No offence against our distinguished Babus and Collector Aiyyas, but somehow Civil Servants remind me of the Vogon race from The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. And man, are they grumpy!
Few other images that come to my mind w.r.t. Civil Servants: An old fashioned wooden desk, filled with papers gathering dust. A white shirt and pant (Safari suit if possible). And finally, a white Ambassador Nova with all the extra-fittings to make it look all the more bureaucratic. (Have I missed something else out here?)
Back to our 10 Million civil servants--thats almost as big as Hungary (or 0.15% of world's population). Wow!
I wonder what would happen if we were to conquer an island (hypothetically) and then drop our distinguished Babus on it (again, hypothetically and figuratively). First of all, we would need to name this island.
Here are a few of my suggestions:
(1) Babuland ( I really love that 4 letter word, don't I?!) ;o)
(3) Safari (Suit) Island
(4) Democratic Republic of Bureaucrats
Just imagine, an island full of Ambassador cars with flashing lights and sirens blaring. Sounds chaotic already!
I wonder what would happen if Civil Servants themselves faced problems similar to the ones faced by the general public. Who would they pressurise/please/bribe to get the job done??? The hunter would become the hunted.
Well, lets get back to setting up of our hypothetical island. The major industries would be Textile (for making nice safari suits), Automobiles (only Hindustan Motors--for manufacturing Ambassadors only), Furniture industry (the more antique-ish furniture you manufacture, the better), and finally the marriage industry.
Apparently, according to another Economist article: "Male (IAS) recruits are among India's most marriageable: more suitable, it is said, than the elite geeks of the country's booming computer-services industry."
Elite Geeks??? Ok, now I am an Economist-Certified Elite Geek. My marital future seems doomed, thanks to these highly-eligible bachelor IAS Babus.
Now, I feel like blowing up this island and calling it a day. How convenient, don't you think? Well, I don't think it's worth all the dynamite.
I find solace in this quote from author Sanjoy Bagchi: “Overwhelmed by the constant feed of adulatory ambrosia, the maturing entrant tends to lose his head and balance. The diffident youngster of early idealistic years, in course of time, is transformed into an arrogant senior fond of throwing his weight around; he becomes a conceited prig.”
Although, I feel, he should've said "Conceited Pig".... Pig's look more like Vogons