- 2 -
I reached the Police station in the afternoon. It was a big government building with 2 stories and a look which made me age it between 100 to 150 years old. I entered and met a wide hallway from which I could see four offices at the end and a staircase. A lone man began staring at me as soon as I got in but did not speak a word. I went into the room which held the words “OFFICE” on its gate. Another big moustached man and an equally moustached lady were sitting in front of different tables. I went to the lady and told her my plea. She said that the work could not be done there. Before I could speak anything the man broke in telling me the entire procedure of getting the certificate in perfectly bongified English. What I didn’t understand was the fact that he was looking at the lady while he spoke while telling me the procedure. Maybe he too was mesmerised by her moustache. Apparently I first had to go to the Police headquarters in a nearby town, submit an application there, the application would need to be forwarded to the police station who in turn would forward it to the Faadi inside my college I’d been to I the morning. The whole process would take 2 months at the fastest. My problem was that my internship was to begin in 3 weeks. I quietly left the room sensing my being there was a source of irritation to the man. Perhaps he resented humans. I went to another room and met a similar though this time without any moustaches. I came out of the building contemplating what to do and swore to myself never to apply again in a government company where such insane demands would be asked for. Don’t criminals have a right to work in an intern? Apparently they seem to have all the qualifications it takes to run a country but they can’t be trusted with a few papers which would teach them how to make a civil aircraft. I was lost in my thoughts when the loner from the hallway came to me.
‘What’s the matter?’
I didn’t know what to say. From his looks he didn’t seem like a man who could be trusted but also seemed like someone who could be the last painkiller for someone ailing with cancer. I took a chance.
‘Follow me.’ He said after I told him my story.
He took me outside the police station and showed me a man who could easily be mistaken for a globe. Thankfully he had no moustache but had absurdly long ears. I couldn’t stop staring at those ears and thought of him to be Lord Ganesh without his trunk. Later I’d come to believe it would be Ganesh without the ethics too.
I told Ganesh my story and he told me the job could be done. It would need some judicial papers and Mahatma Gandhi’s blessings and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what he meant. I asked how much. He didn’t quote a number and me, being a beginner in the business didn’t know how big a number to quote. After 10 minutes he finally said “400.” I was taken aback. Not that I didn’t have the “blessings” but it was a bigger number than I’d spent in a long time thanks to the rural location of my esteemed institute. It was decision time and I told Ganesh that I’d come with the money in the evening. I took his phone number and before he could ask me mine I quickly called a rickshaw and went.
- 3 -
I sat there in my room thinking. If I didn’t get this certificate I was not going to get my unpaid internship at the company where I’d later find out that India was not going anywhere in the aviation industry. I did have other options which didn’t require such insane demands but I thought spending time in this company would add the most to my experience. I called my dad and he said that this it’s how the world works. Even if I go by the normal 2 month procedure I’d have to bribe the police at every desk my file went. I ultimately decided on paying the bribe, mainly because my dad would be calling and asking me in the night if I’d gotten the certificate or not. I waited for 4:30 PM and went to the police station.
