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The incident dates back to pre-independence period. My father must have been in his early 20s, when as a fresh graduate, he was selected in the Defence Accounts Department of the government of India. For joining the job he required a medical certificate. After his medical examination he had to get the final stamp of approval from the chief medical officer who happened to be a British. As my father’s name was called out, he entered the room of the medical officer. While the C.M.O. kept shuffling the papers with one hand, he kept gesturing with his left hand from beneath the table as if he was asking for something. Repeatedly the officer asked my father, “What shall I write?” My father could not comprehend anything. Ultimately the medical officer signed the paper  and my father came out with the medical certificate in his hand. The other candidates, who had to part with what ever money they had in their pocket, were curious to know how much my father had to shell out. My father did not pay a penny. He was too naïve to understand that the officer was asking for a bribe. Continue reading “The Indiagate scam”

During my teens I was an ardent reader of now defunct, ‘The Illustrated Weekly of India’. Deeply entrenched in my memory is a cover story published in the magazine decades ago Continue reading “Not so civic”