Parliamentary Attachment

The Parliament of India. A building I am sure fascinates most Indians. After all this is wherefrom this country is run. This is the place that symbolizes our democratic polity. Even otherwise, the fights on the floor, the cash-for-question and other such scams, power politics, horse trading etc all fascinate the masses.

Last week, I got a privileged entry into this very paarliament. It seems, as IRS officers we need to be appraised about how our parliament works. After all, there is no taxation without representation -and the tax policy of India is made in the corridors of power that this parliament consists of. But frankly speaking, I wasn't enthusiastic about visiting the parliament. And I sure was surprised that I wasn't! After all, who gets a chance to! The only thing I was excited about was the break: break from the training at Nagpur and the prospects of being back to Delhi.



We started off on the 21st of february in Garib Rath Express (how austere the life of a taxman is!). Of a batch of 160, we were roughly 80 in Garib Rath. The rest had made their own travel plans, mostly travelling by plane. I guess they missed out on the fun of travelling together with 80 other friends on train. Train journeys are always fun, especially when a whole bogie is occupied by your group. You can drink beer, play taas (cards), shout, and do a host of other activities. Most of all, a vibrant train journey energizes your brain. It stimulates you to observe things closely, and deeply.

We reached Delhi the other day at noon, a whole 6 hours late. Now you know another reason why people prefer to travel by air. As the world becomes busier, time becomes shorter, and 24 hours too less for the day, evidently planes are more preferred. The huge batch of IRS probationers of 62nd batch was lodged in five different hotels in Karol Bagh and Ajmeri Gate region. Since Dora, Vaibhav and myself were lodged in the same hotel, we dived into a pool of beer as soon as we checked in.

After sometime, someone told me that possibly we will have photo sessions with the finance minister (Pranab Mukherjee temporarily), the president, and her vice. We had a session with Pranab Mukherjee just the next day. So I decided to have a hair cut. I went down to a "men's beauty parlour" and pompously (also a little foolishly, and in a silly way) introduced myself as an Assistant Commissioner of Income Tax about to meet Pranab Mukherjee the next day. I made it sound as if a one-to-one meeting between the minister and myself had been arranged. The barber didn't anyway seem to be convinced by my exaggeration. Rather, he introduced himself in English as the 'hair stylist' of the shop. I felt piqued.



The barber made me sit and look at the sorry state of affairs that i am. Thinning hair, a melancholic face (which people claim makes them laugh), two protruding ears, and not in the least looking like an Assistant Commissioner. Even though I realized that myself, the barber repeated that I am ugly. And if I am serious about meeting the FM, I must go for a facial package of 900 bucks. I looked at him. He looked at me. Our eyes met, and I conveyed to him that even my face isn't worth that much. He read my eyes and brought down the price to 350... said it was a cheaper alternative but will nevertheless shine my face. Done, I said.



He took an eternity applying all sorts of juices and pastes on my face. At the end of it, he asked me to look at the mirror. I looked at the mirror and the same ugly guy looked back at me. I look the same, I objected. The barber, who it seems had great convincing skills, showed me that I had turned into a handsome guy that s won't be able to resist. Buoyed by his praises and appreciation, I marched into Old Rajinder nagar market, where months before beautiful punjabi s used to greet me with indifference. And this time around their attitude was no different.



23rd of February. Monday. The herd of 160 officer trainees, all in black Jodhpuri suits (men) and a single design white sarees (women) are seated in a huge, impressive hall in the parliament library building. Our faculty members, who seemed to be full of self-importance back in the academy, had the mannerisms and attitude of obedient school students. A German shepherd may be one in front of its sheeps, but in a tiger's den it is but a servile and sycophant creature. Pranab Mukherjee arrives, but seems to be in a hurry. He is stressed out, and wouldn't make a speech if given a choice. It is clear that he would stay here just for 40 minutes or so. Still, the DG reads a prepared and lengthy speech. The FM gives a short speech, the head and tail of which I couldn't make out because of reasons I will mention shortly. Then a fellow probationer comes up with another lengthy vote-of-thanks. FM leaves without a photo session. I think, so much ado just for a pic to post in Orkut!

The FM's session is followed by few lectures by some MPs, secretaries and directors. I am sorry I can't delve into the exact content of these lectures, since I was sleeping all through. What exactly happened was that in the morning I woke up with a cough. Dora was carrying a bottle of corex cough syrup. I intended to take a few drops of it, but once I raised the bottle to my lips, about half the bottle emptied and went down my throat. By the time I reached the parliament, I was feeling damn sleepy. The first session was our honourable FM's speech, and if the CD ma'am had caught me napping she would have eaten me raw. So I put on my sunglasses, in the seminar hall, and took a light nap. After the FM's session, I freely slept and enjoyed the sleep. Little did I know then that in rest of the days of parliamentary attachment, I would be sleeping away without the help of corex! After five days of the attachment, I in fact wondered why we had to come all the way to the parliament to sleep when we could do the same in the classes in the academy!

Another interesting thing I noted on this day was that in the jodhpuri suits, all of us looked like butlers, or waiters of Taj Hotel. In fact a few of my lady colleagues saw me and a couple of others from a distance in one of the rooms and mistook us for security personnel. Now, not that the lady OTs looked any special. In white sarees with similar design all of them looked like airhostesses of erstwhile Indian Airlines. But the real worth of the uniform we got to know when we were made to do some training sessions with officer trainees of Indian Audit and Accounts Service (IAAS). There were 16 IAAS trainees who had arrived in a variety of clothes. When made to mingle with us, they distinctively stood out as fancy dress competitors. I wonder why it took 16 trainees of a different service to make me realize how disciplined and cool we 160 look in our uniforms!

The attachment was of five days: 23rd to 27th of february. Monday to friday. Few details of the rest of the attachment I will share with you in a sequel post.