Redefining VIP status
MANY of us have faced inconvenience due to the preferential treatment that VIPs, actual or self-proclaimed, consider to be their entitlement. But it is laudable that corrective measures are taken at times, such as the curbs on the use of the red beacon on cars.
I recall spotting a car that not only had a red beacon but also prominently displayed an equally vivid red board on its front, declaring the owner’s credentials. It read: Additional Deputy Chief Treasurer (ad hoc), sports wing of so-and-so political party of so-and-so Nagar (urban) branch, Delhi. This bold proclamation, in shining brass letters, was intended to exert influence. I marvelled at the sheer audacity and enterprise of this ‘VIP’, who was desperately trying to exhibit his imaginary superiority.
No matter whether you tolerate such behaviour or not, you simply cannot ignore these persons. They often assert their right of way on highways, refuse to pay toll tax and parking fee and flout rules with impunity. If you dare to overtake their convoy, you may consider yourself fortunate if you escape without physical harm or a barrage of verbal abuse. All in all, one is wary of their presence, which is symptomatic of a decadent society.
I was in Mumbai several years ago for a conference. I decided to make the most of the trip and pay a quick visit to the famous Siddhivinayak temple. I got up in the wee hours and reached the temple, but found a very long queue of devotees. I also joined the slow-moving line and patiently waited, all the while glancing at my watch because I had a lecture to deliver during the morning session of the conference. A few volunteers were regulating the movement of the devotees. I observed that a middle-aged usher pulled a young woman out of the queue and led her to a spot near the altar. While nobody else objected, I decided to question the volunteer for this indiscretion. I stepped out of the line and approached the facilitator, asking her why the woman had been given preferential treatment.
The volunteer responded calmly, ‘She is a VIP.’ It became even more difficult for me to accept this apparent intransigence. I asked her, ‘How on earth is she a VIP when the others in the queue are not?’ In a composed tone, she replied, ‘She is a young expectant mother, which makes her a VIP.’
Left speechless, I calmly stepped back and went towards the rear of the line, waiting for my turn. The definition of a VIP had assumed an entirely new connotation. I humbly bowed in front of the deity when my turn came and also saluted the sagacity of that usher.