Of Life coming to a full circle at a Govt. Office

Place : The Office of the Registrar of Firms, Societies and Non-trading Corporations at 10th Floor, Todi Mansion, Kolkata.

Time : Bright hot muggy afternoon.

So I finally stepped out of the cramped lift onto the 10th floor of Todi Mansion after having waited for over 20 minutes to get into the said lift in the first place (the queue had spilled onto the street outside). A small doorway to the left blocked by a wall of sweating visitors, queuing up for reasons best known to themselves, seemed to be the entrance to the Office. I waded my way through the barrage of bodies while profusely muttering apologies and calmly digesting the "tsk tsk(s)" and "arre dekhe moshai dekhe(s)" to finally find myself at the first desk of the said Govt. office where a bespectacled bucktooth civil servant sat signing papers while vociferously elaborating on his family's illustrous history to another sitting beside him.

I was here to file a couple of applications under the RTI Act. On inquiring as to who was the appropriate person to receive my application, I was pointed toward 'choto babu' who happened to be another bespectacled civil servant with a more sombre appearance. On repeating my question to the said 'choto babu' I was directed to a 'madam', a middle aged bespectacled (again!!) lady who spared me more time and attention than the two previous officers. However, she had no idea what the RTI was, or atleast she did a damn good job pretending not to know. She directed me to the Registrar's office itself, 'bodo babu', informing me that "uni jaanben.." (he'll know.. what you're talking about...i presume). So I met the Registrar himself who very kindly and calmly directed me to approach the desk just to the left of the entrance and submit my application and also reminded me to keep a receipt stamped photocopy for myself.

So I headed out one last time and lo! It was the bespectacled bucktooth civil servant, whom I'd met first upon entering the said office, that I had to submit my applications to. Only by this time he was going on about how they used to have 35 bigha jomeen (bigha = acre??; jomeen = zameen = plot of land) in Chottogram(Chittagong) that the dirty mullahs snatched from them.

My first real experience with the Indian bureaucracy. In retrospect it was entertaining, if nothing else. I only wish it wasn't soo bloody hot!

(FYI, I did manage to file the said application, though only after I informed our esteemed officer that I was instructed to come to him by 'bodo babu' himself)