Fully grown Zygotes: Karnataka Land Allottment scam

I am amazed by how I continue to be shocked by instances of corruption in India: starting from 1987, there hasn't been a year where a scam hasn't rocked the nation. The numbers have gotten bigger, and now have reached a point that my brain no longer comprehend them: how much is 1.76 lakh crores worth ?

And yet, as a scam-battered citizen of the modern India founded by the likes of A Raja, Madhu Koda and Suresh Kalmadi, I find the latest revelations in the Karnataka land scam deeply disgusting. Consider, for instance, the list of people to whom Chief Ministers of Karnataka alloted 1300 acres of land at throwaway prices. The CMs are, under a provision that bestows a discretionary quota, entitled to give away land for 'public persons'. As one would expect, most of these people are politicians or sons/daughters of politicians.

There's something profoundly disturbing here: what are the achievements of some of these people? The only one I see is that they were hatched from an egg that was fertilized by a politician's sperm. This biological lottery makes these fully-grown zygotes entitled to everything: prime land worth crores of rupees, seats in the legislature, live targets to practice their shooting skills, etc. If there's nothing, then there's at least chairmanship of Khadi Gramodyog or Fisheries commission. Then fully-grown zygotes in turn will fertilize even more eggs - the evolutionary cycle continues.

No wonder the scam numbers continue to astound - the next generation is much smarter, fitter and better in adapting to the environment modern India provides.

Guest Post: Would we know if the Idea of India is Dead?

Are social institutions like faraway dead stars? Looking at a star, light-years from earth, we are not sure that the star is still alive, we are still seeing it from the past - it might have been dead thousands of years ago, but its death wouldn’t yet register on us.

Similarly, cities (like Mumbai) might have died years ago, but still continue to live (though the decline is visible.) Charles Correa, noted architect, says:

“Cities grow—and die—much faster than we think. Visiting Calcutta today, it is difficult to understand how turn-of-the-century travellers could have deemed it as one of the great metropolises of the world—the finest east of Suez, a jewel in the crown and so forth. Could they not see the grave (perhaps terminal) illness that was already tightening its grip on that marvellously humane city? No, obviously there is a time lag during which calamity is not overt. So that late into the 1940s and 1950s, we still couldn’t see the fatal symptoms—the writing on the wall.

Obviously this is true of Bombay. As it is getting better and better as a city, and disintegrating (very rapidly and quite unnecessarily) as environment. Perhaps what the people of Bombay are experiencing is the last burst of energy—the spastic twitches before the end. Living in this city one wouldn’t notice it oneself.”

Many of the companies (earning mostly maintenance/legacy revenues) might have died years ago, but have sustained as the revenues are still flowing. It’s been years since Microsoft turned out a decent innovation (some would say it never did), but is one of the most valued companies in the World today (Apple’s market capitalization overtook Microsoft’s only recently).

Has the idea of India died? The muck we live in today is much different than the India envisaged by its founding fathers. A Raja, Madhu Koda and Suresh Kalmadi have replaced Gandhi, Ambedkar and Nehru as the founders of the Modern Indian Nation. Today we inhabit the nation these gentlemen have built – a nation where every pillar of the systems has crumbled: we elect Mafioso to the parliament, where chief ministers swindle land, army generals own tracts of land in cities, influential media-people morph into deal fixers, and the retired Chief Justices don’t even bother to refute corruption accusations by senior counsel.

The idea of India died long ago- we are living through its funeral.

osted by Bhushan Y. Nigale