Files come & go, babudom stays on

I decided one November day to visit the SDM’s office. It was a simple matter of making a correction in my car’s RC — from petrol to diesel. The sight of the burly babu at the counter wasn’t very elevating. Sitting smug, the arrogance of power exuding out of him, was ominous. Yet, having fortified my defences well, I remained unruffled. There was a disorderly queue of people holding yellow/grey files cringing for his ‘kind’ attention for licence-related issues. After braving some pushing and shoving, when I managed to engage his attention, his curt reply was: ‘This is a busy time meant for licence cases. Come tomorrow.’

The next afternoon, the crowd was less but the babu was busy with files and the PC monitor. ‘Mine is a case of RC correction. You asked me to come in the afternoon,’ I hurriedly muscled in when he raised his head. The answer came from his hefty colleague leaning over behind him. ‘You will need to pay a fee…for the correction process to start…but it is collected at forenoon. Come tomorrow.’ So saying, the big fellow switched off his attention.

Anticipating rush, I came to the office early next morning, at 9.45 am, and waited outside the locked door. Gradually, people started pouring in. The babu came in at 10.15 am, unlocked the door and bolted it from inside. Some ‘tallying’ work, we were given to understand. When later the door opened, the crowd milled in. Pushing and shoving again. Yet being the first, I held my ground and stood before him. ‘My RC correction case…’ I reminded him.

‘Have to deal with the licence cases first. Wait,’ he cut me short.

And I waited. An hour later, I got his ear. He retrieved the RC stapled to the application and began working on it. But after tapping a few keys expressed helplessness. ‘Sorry, some problem with your case. Come in the afternoon.’

After another long wait and urgent pleas, he took up my case again. The same glitch again. He summoned his colleague and restarted the process. The glitch persisted. I was told to get the original RC file from the room across. I approached the babu concerned and asked for the file. He said he had heaps of files to clear and could do the needful tomorrow only. But when I persisted with humble pleas, he relented. Together, we went to a room upstairs crammed with old records. We could retrieve the file in good time. He gave me a photocopy of the document. Happy, I dashed off to the licence babu. Another wait. ‘I have to tally accounts. Come tomorrow.’ Came another tomorrow, forenoon, and then afternoon. He fiddled with the keys again. ‘I will have to send your case to the DC’s office. Come after a week,’ he said.

Now, I had run out of patience. ‘You made me come and go for 10 days. Is this how you dispense cases?’ But he had already turned deaf to my verbal assault and got busy with files.

Days later, I sent an office-hardened acquaintance to collect the ‘corrected’ RC. After a week, to my shock, he returned the old RC saying, ‘Sorry, even I couldn’t beat babudom!’