Karma of Corruption

Text of Speech delivered at the graduation day of Rajagiri Vidhyapeetham, Kochi on April 21, 2012

A very good afternoon to you all.

My dear students, Mr Veerappa Moily, Father Anthony Kariyl, Members of the faculty, parents and invitees.

I am extremely grateful to the management of Rajagiri Vidyapeetham for giving me the honour of participating in the graduation ceremony, Samavarthana.

Considering that you students will soon walk out of the hallowed portals of this institution, I have decided to dwell on the topic of integrity, which unfortunately is in scarce supply in our country today, as we are rocked by one scandal after another.

When I was told that a politician would be the Chief Guest, for a moment I decided to change the topic. How can you talk about honesty and ethics in the presence of a politician? But when I learnt that the politician would be Mr Veerappa Moily, I heaved a sigh of relief.

Mr Moily is one of the rare politicians with a clean image. When I first met Mr Moily many years ago, I was the education correspondent of the Indian Express and he was the Education Minister of Karnataka. Thereafter, he became the Chief Minister and as far as I can remember there was not even a single corruption charge against him. The management of Rajagiri Vidyapeetham could not have chosen a better chief guest for this occasion.

I have known Fr Anthony Kariyl from his days at Christ College, Bangalore. The credit of turning around the once notorious Christ College, if I may say so,  into one of the most prestigious institutions in Karnataka goes to the revered Father.  I am sure Father Kariyl would have instilled the highest values in all you students.

I would consider moral values more important than the bookish knowledge that has been imparted to you, because what the country needs today is men and women of character.

When we speak of corruption, politicians instantly come to mind because they are the most visible to the common man. After politicians the scanner falls on the executive and the judiciary, but what about corruption in the private sector and even the media?

Many years ago the then Prime Minister Mrs Indira Gandhi described corruption as a universal phenomenon, but today unfortunately corruption has been universalised in India, sparing not even the private sector.

You will be surprised to learn that many corporate too function like the government. Bribes, commission in procurements and cuts are common in private enterprises too. What is saddening is that even journalism one of the noblest professions has not been spared by the malaise of corruption.

As you students walk out of this institution, I would urge you to maintain the highest levels of professional integrity and ethics. No, I am not asking you to become saints. We are ordinary mortals and money is no doubt important to all of us, but what is even more important is the means through which this money comes to us.

Bad money invariably leads to disastrous consequences and suffering.  You will never be able to enjoy your ill-gotten wealth. I have seen politicians who have amassed wealth through illegal means spending the entire amount on their health or other personal problems. Bad money can never bring you happiness. You will never be able to enjoy such wealth.

I call this the Karma of Corruption.  Your Karma will catch up with you if not today, tomorrow, but definitely within this lifetime.

I read somewhere that honesty is the single most important factor having a direct bearing on the final success of an individual, corporation, or product.

I would request each one of you to maintain the highest degree of integrity in whatever you choose do to. You might be a small number, but do not worry, please set an example to those around you and it will have a cascading effect.  And let me assure you, many years hence when you look back you will have the satisfaction of having lived a happy and content life.

I wish you all great success in your future endeavours. I am sure each one of your will bring credit not only to yourselves, but to this institution, your parents and the country.  May you all have a great future ahead.

Thank you very much.

Sex tourism: Is Tashkent going the Thailand way?

M. Gautham Machaiah

“Sir, do you want a girl?” This is what the cab driver is most likely to ask you in Tashkent, rather than, “Where do you want to go?”

Welcome to the Thailand of Central Asia.

Though it might be difficult to replace Thailand as the sex capital of the world, Tashkent with its booming underground prostitution industry, is set to give Pattaya and Bangkok a run for their money.

Tashkent, which is now the capital of Uzbekistan after the disintegration of Soviet Union, is one of the most beautiful cities in the world with its immaculate tree lined streets, wide walkways, large parks, historic monuments, imposing buildings, 8-D theatres, ballet shows, snow capped mountains, excellent public transport system, pristine rivers and  pollution free environment. But these hold no interest to the average sex-hungry traveller.

The stage was set the moment we landed at the Tashkent airport, with prying eyes virtually stripping every passing woman. This being the first day, we were treated to a gala dinner and belly dance, where our Indian group mates were at their obnoxious best. After some failed attempts to grope the girls, the guys wanted some ‘action’ which the tour operators readily organised elsewhere.

The second day was a shocker. After a hurried sightseeing trip of the City, our tour operator pompously took over the guide’s microphone in the coach and announced two interesting options for the evening. One was the Villa, the other being lap dance.

Now, what’s a Villa? Listen to what our illustrious operator had to say: “A Villa is like a farm house on the outskirts of Tashkent. It has a massage parlour and sauna, a dance floor and two-three bedrooms. You can have a massage, dance with the girls, have some Vodka and then take the girl of your choice to the bedroom. That is not all. After you have had your share of fun, you can even swap your girl with others.”

And then, what about lap dance? “It is a strip tease where the girls will dance completely naked. They will grind on your lap and you are free to fondle them to your heart’s content,” the operator volunteered.

Exciting options indeed!

We then adjourned for lunch so that a considered view could be taken on which of these options to choose from. But even one hour after the lunch, there was no sign of the operators. A little bit of probing revealed that they were busy collecting the advance from those who had chosen their options. After some heckling by me, everybody was herded into the coach to continue the tour in which most were not interested.

“We have come here to see the place, not to drink, dance and womanise,” I protested, but the tour operator shamelessly responded, “That is what people come to Tashkent for. There is nothing to see here.” That was when I realised Tashkent was being sold as a sex destination and the operators were doubling up as touts and pimps. Obviously, a cut from the Villa and strip tease goes to them.

The operator then went on to proudly announce that in the next few days he would fly in a 180- strong contingent from India on an exclusive sex package. “We have factored in all costs ranging from Villas, lap dance and night clubs. There will be no sightseeing, only fun.” While a trip to Tashkent costs less than Rs 50,000, the Gujarati team had shelled out over Rs 1 lakh each,” the operator boasted.

The second half of the City tour ended sooner than it began. While we decided to call it a day, most others made their way to the Villas.

The next day on, we decided to break away from the group and explore the City on our own, but that too did not really solve our problem. Every taxi driver we hired was only interested in making a fast buck by selling to us what seemed to be the most easily available ware – young women. 

One night when we were returning to the hotel after dinner, the only question the Hindi speaking cabbie asked us was, “Do you want girls?” We politely declined first and then firmly when he persisted. Instead, we asked him to take us to a pharmacy as my friend was suffering from a headache. The driver was so upset by our refusal that he drove straight to the hotel and declared, “There are no pharmacies in the City.”

That this driver could speak chaste Hindi only shows his large clientele from India. As our guide, a post-graduate in Finance from London, explained, “We would like to promote Tashkent as a family destination, but most Indians are interested only in sex. In fact, I have been propositioned by some tourists. On one occasion, I had to threaten an Indian with police action after he offered me 100 dollars to spend the night with him!”

Well, the Indian cannot perhaps be blamed for that is the reputation Tashkent has built for itself in the recent past.  Today, people from across the world, not just India, throng Tashkent to satisfy their baser instincts.

The City is also known for its various dance forms, particularly belly dance. There is nothing vulgar about them and the dancers are the epitome of grace and poise. But that does not prevent our disgraceful Indian tourist from doing his best to paw them, despite a clear sign board that the dais is only for the dance troupe.

Most restaurants boast of a dance floor and a visit to Tashkent is not complete without a visit to its famous night clubs. A taxi driver, who was referred to us as an honest man by a friend who had visited the City earlier, promised to take us to a club which showcased the best of dances.

This was one of the top clubs in the City, we were told, and as such we were to pay an entry fee of 15 dollars and a table charge of 50 dollars for two. Mind you, the table fee does not refer to the cover charge...it is a kind of rent to use the table!

We decided to order a beer, but the bearer declared that drinks would be sold only as a package comprising two pints, a bottle of water and soft drinks. That set us back by another 75 dollars.

As we waited, there was no sign of any dance. There was a huge floor where anyone could shake a leg. We soon realised that our ‘honest’ cabbie had conned us by bring us to a pick-up joint where you could choose any girl from the dance floor and take her home. We beat a hasty retreat, having ended up paying over Rs 6,200 for two pints of beer which back home would cost no more than Rs 600 in an upscale restaurant.

We returned to our hotel and another sight greeted us. The lobby was full of hookers and for a moment the place resembled a brothel. Apparently, it is legal in the country for a guest to take a prostitute to the room after paying a fee at the reception. With easy money luring young girls, and the administration turning a blind eye, prostitution seems to have assumed epic proportions.

Tashkent is said to be the one of the biggest exporters of sex workers to Thailand, where ‘Russian girls’ are in great demand. They have now set their eyes on India forcing the government to issue an advisory that abundant caution should be exercised while issuing visas to girls from Central Asian countries.

Uzbekistan is ruled with an iron hand by President Islam Karimov, who commands considerable respect among the youth. “This is a Muslim country and we have a strong President. He will never allow Tashkent to become another Thailand,” says our local guide. But the ground realities belie her claims.

This 20-year-old fledgling country needs to bolster its business and commerce, but flesh trade is definitely not the answer. Sex tourism brings in only limited revenue as people who travel for sex buy only sex, whereas family travellers splurge on shopping thus boosting the local economy.

Tashkent should fashion itself as a family destination rather than a sex hub. It is high time Tashkent realised it has much more to offer to the world, than the nubile bodies of its young daughters.

And a star is born…

M. Gautham Machaiah


When I received a friend request on Facebook from Mohan Unlucky, the unusual suffix caught my eye. Why would a young smart lad call himself unlucky, I wondered as I shot off a cryptic message to him.

His response was instant: “I have always been unlucky in life. I lost my father…I could not complete my engineering course…my relationship failed…I have been looking for a job for one year, but have not succeeded.”

An aspiring film director, this small town boy knocked on several doors seeking an opportunity, but all his efforts were met with humiliation and discouragement. This impacted Mohan’s psyche so much that he came to believe that luck would never favour him.

I forwarded a small note on positive thinking and urged him to watch the ‘Secret’ video. Barely a day later, I received another message from him: “The video and your positive words have changed my outlook towards life. I am now rearing to go.”

Mohan wanted to meet me and I called him over for a brief chat. “What do you want to be in life?” I asked and he appeared a bit lost. I then asked him to go back home, make a list of all his aspirations, and finally shortlist two among them.

The very next day Mohan was at my office. “I want to become a film director and a lyricist,” he confidently declared as he handed over a neatly typed copy of his resume. For a moment, I could not believe myself: “Is this the same Mohan who was a virtual wreck just two days ago?”

That is the power of positive thought!

A day later, I received another friend request. This time from Mohan Goldenstar. He was no longer Mohan Unlucky. “I will never harbour negative thoughts again. From the moment I became positive, I have only been receiving good news. I am confident that I will conquer the world,” he messaged.

And I am sure he will, for with the death of negative thoughts a star is born.

Passion in a pair of shoes

M. Gautham Machaiah


Purchasing a pair of men’s shoes is not the most exciting of shopping experiences. Or so I thought until I walked into Roush, a retail store at Indiranagar, Bangalore.

I had wanted to buy a pair of smart boots for sometime and my search through upscale brands had drawn a blank. That is when the brightly lit Roush showroom caught my eye. Being extremely brand conscious, buying an unknown label was the last thing in mind when I strolled into the store out of plain curiosity.

At the door I was greeted by a young girl not with the standard sales pitch, “What are you looking for sir?, but with a rather unusual request, “Sir, if you have the time can I please tell you about our shoes?”

“Look at her passion,” I murmured to myself. I guess I had spoken a bit too soon. The girl pointed to a panel where the logo of the store was mounted and said, “Our store is called Roush, which in Sanskrit means passion. A lot of passion goes into the making of our shoes.”

As she took me through the store excitedly showing off various designs of shoes as if they were personally hand crafted by her, I smelt the distinct whiff of passion in the air. My unintended attempt to puncture her enthusiasm with my remark, “But I have never heard of this brand…” proved futile when the girl and her colleague put up a spirited defense.

“Roush is a Bangalore based company which supplies shoes to international brands like Tommy Hilfiger and Louis Phillipe. We have now decided to come out with our own chain of retain stores across the country and serve our customers directly,” they echoed as they went into a zealous speech on the company’s background, future plans and orientation to customers.

“Are you the promoters of the company? For how long have you been running this place?” I asked just to add to the conversation and was surprised to learn they were only the sales representatives. How often do we come across such passion and commitment?

No, this was not just another sales spiel, but an important management lesson worthy of emulation by large corporations usually filled with soulless employees.

This experience transported me back to a book I had read sometime ago, ‘The Art of the Start’ by Guy Kawasaki, which speaks of creating a mantra for the organisation. A mantra is a guideline for the employees as against a tagline which is aimed at the customers.

For instance, Nike’s mantra is “Authentic Athletic Performance,” while its tagline is “Just do it.” Thus, every employee in Nike from the receptionist to the CEO is aware that the purpose of his existence in the company is to create “Authentic Athletic Performance”.

Now, contrast this with the mission statement of Coca-Cola: “The Coco-Cola Company exists to benefit and refresh everyone it touches.” Would this not have been more powerful had the company adopted a simple mantra like “Refresh the world”?

The author gives another example of March of Dimes, whose mission statement is: “March of Dimes researchers, volunteers, educators, outreach workers and advocates work together to give all babies a fighting chance against the threats to their health, prematurity, birth defects and low birth weight.” Compare this with the hypothetical mantra Guy Kawasaki has evolved: “Save babies.” Which of these have a greater impact?

This is exactly what Roush did. Knowingly or unknowingly it created a mantra called passion, which then got ingrained in every employee from the topmost to the lowest level. This is why their shoes are not a mere product, but as a work of passion.

In the end of the day, I bought their shoes because I loved them. But I loved their passion more.

Are you a thief of time?

M. Gautham Machaiah

Many years ago, a well known philosopher was invited by one of India’s most revered spiritual leaders, the late Sri Sathya Sai Baba to lecture the students at Brindavan, his abode at Whitefield on the outskirts of Bangalore. The speaker had not arrived and Baba was already looking alarmed though it was just two minutes past the scheduled time.

Seeing Sai Baba anxiously waiting for him at the door, the perplexed philosopher profusely apologised: “Kindly excuse me Swami; I am late by two minutes.” But the god man responded with a straight face: “You are 80 minutes late.”

The speaker protested, “I am only two minutes late Swami. My lecture was at 11 am and I have arrived at 11.02 am.” To which, Sai Baba replied: “There are 40 students in the class. You have taken away two minutes of each of them and that means you have wasted 80 minutes.” What a profound statement!

Sometime ago, I was at dinner with an Australian Chairman of a multi-national company, who drew my attention to the “two minute syndrome.” The words “two minutes” have become a figure of speech in India. When somebody says: “I will be there in two minutes”, it could range from anywhere between two minutes and 20 minutes, if not more. For some reason, we have come to believe that time is the most expendable resource.

Two minutes is quite a lot of time, as I realised at Sri Ramakrishna Vidyashala, Mysore, where I studied. We could never afford to be even a second late, forget two minutes: 8 am meant 8 am, not even 8.01 am. Not being punctual was regarded as the biggest crime.

As students, we were told the story of the then Prime Minister who arrived late for the inauguration of the swimming pool. The school authorities garlanded his photograph and went ahead with the ceremony without waiting for him. That was the importance the school gave to time.

Punctuality was ingrained in me right from my childhood, as I hail from Coorg, the picturesque hill district of Karnataka which has contributed some of the finest soldiers to the country. One of them was Field Marshal K.M. Cariappa, the first and only commander-in-chief of free India, whose penchant for punctuality was legendary.

When Cariappa became the Field Marshal, a civic reception was organised in his honour at Mercara. Cariappa arrived half-an-hour in advance and patiently waited in his car outside the venue. And at the appointed time, he got off his car and walked into the venue. As William Shakespeare would say: “Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.”

There was an occasion when a Chief Minister arrived at Cariappa’s residence 30 minutes late. The Field Marshal, had by then closed the doors and taken his seat at a window overlooking the foyer. Standing on the other side of the window, the Chief Minister virtually begged that he be let in, but Cariappa remained unfazed. It was only after half-an-hour of pleading that the Chief Minister was finally let in, but not without a reprimand.

As children, we learnt our first lessons in punctuality at home. One of our earliest teachers was my father’s driver who unfailingly arrived on the dot at 9.15 am day after day; something modern day chief executives should be envious of. And my father would make it a point to be ready by then so that the driver did not have to wait even for a minute. This mutual respect for each other’s time was truly admirable.

Having been brought up in such an atmosphere, I find it very strange that even well educated people in high positions have scant respect for other’s time. How many times have we not heard the excuse: “Sorry, I am running late…Sorry, I am stuck in a traffic jam…Sorry, I did not find a place to park”?

To them, I would like to quote Richard Cecil: “If I have made an appointment with you, I owe you punctuality. I have no right to throw away your time, if I do my own.” American theologian, Nathaniel Emmons went a step further when he said: “I could never think well of a man’s intellectual or moral character, if he was habitually unfaithful to his appointment.”

To me, my time is precious and I expect others to value that. I am never late for my meetings, nor does anybody who has an appointment with me have to wait for even five minutes. As the French proverb goes: “The while we keep a man waiting, he reflects on our shortcomings.” Punctuality is the soul of business.

Every time I have to attend a meeting or a social gathering, I keep a buffer of 15 minutes and for good measure set my watch at least five minutes fast. That way I am never late.

I have come across many people in life for whom punctuality is God. The Publisher of the Indian Express, which was my first port of call, was so particular about being punctual, that even when he has to attend a private dinner, he would send his car on a recce the previous day to measure the time between the office and his friend’s house.

Another person who swore by his watch was former Chief Minister of Karnataka, R. Gundu Rao. As a journalist, I was invited to cover a function where Gundu Rao was the chief guest. Gundu Rao had arrived on time and when he saw no sign of the function starting, he walked straight to the microphone, delivered the welcome address, his own speech, the vote of thanks and simply walked out of the venue, leaving the organisers gaping!

I strongly believe in Lord Nelson’s words: “I owe all my success in life to having been always a quarter of an hour before my time.” Despite my hectic work schedule, I have the time for books, movies, drives, pubs, shopping and travel. I have all the time in the world and my work has never taken over my life, because I believe in the power of punctuality.

Punctuality adds grace to our personality and years to our life. As Louis XVIII of France said: “Punctuality is the politeness of the kings.”

COMMENTS

Inspiring!
- Vachana Shetty, Bangalore

Will Ayyappa come to Jayamala's rescue?

M. Gautham Machaiah

The storm over Kannada actress Jayamala allegedly desecrating the Lord Ayyappa temple at Sabarimala refuses to die down with the Kerala police now chargesheeting her for hurting religious sentiments by making false claims.

The actress had raised the hackles of staunch Ayyappa followers in 2006, when she claimed she had entered the sanctum sanctorum of the temple at the prime of her youth in 1987 and touched the feet of the celibate deity, thus violating an age old custom which bars women in their reproductive age from entering the hill shrine.

The controversy has all the ingredients of a potboiler. The first question that crosses the mind is why did it take nearly two decades for Jayamala to make her confession? Therein lies a story.

In June 2006, a well known astrologer, P. Unnikrishna Panikker, performed the ‘Deva Prashnam’, a tantric ritual which revealed that the temple had been defiled by a woman. The very next day, the temple authorities received a facsimile message from Jayamala that the woman that the astrologer was referring to was indeed her. The actress detailed the sequence of events on that fateful day and expressed a desire to perform penance to overcome her sin.

High drama began to unfold with the letter being ‘leaked’ and Jayamala herself narrating the story with great relish to the media. But the actress had bitten more than she could chew. Distressed by this “sacrilege”, the devout, who too maintain a period of celibacy before visiting the temple, bayed for her blood, forcing the Kerala government to order an inquiry by the crime branch of the police.

In the midst of this brouhaha the chief priest of the Sabarimala temple, Kantararu Maheshwararu debunked Jayamala’s claim saying it was impossible for a lady to enter the innermost precincts of the shrine slipping through several rungs of security. And even if she did, touching the Lord’s feet was out of question because the sanctum sanctorum is on an elevated platform with a flight of steps leading to it. But the actress continued to narrate her story with even greater flourish, basking in the glory of all the publicity it got her.

But the actress has now received a rude jolt with the police filing a charge sheet against her for making “false claims”, thereby vindicating the chief priest’s stand. According to the police, Jayamala was part of a conspiracy hatched by astrologer Unnikrishna Panikker and his assistant who had an axe to grind with the temple authorities.

The astrologer had claimed then that the poojas and rituals of the shrine had not been performed with due sanctity and dedication by priests and that there were even signs of the idol having been touched by a woman. The whole episode, the investigation says, is a conspiracy to buttress the claim of the astrologer about the poor state of temple affairs, and Jayamala apparently was a willing accomplice. The accused have been arraigned for being involved in “a deliberate and malicious act intended to outrage religious feelings”.

The last word has not yet been said on the episode, but ever since the actress made her claim, a debate has been raging across the country on practices like barring women from entering the temple, with the Supreme Court too being seized of the matter. Soon, Jayamala will be relegated to the background with secularists, conformists and pseudo-secularists splitting hair over the “larger issue” of women’s entry into Ayyappa’s abode.

Gender discrimination is no doubt a cause for concern, but emotive questions with religious connotations is better left untouched for the time being, especially when the country is battling other series issues development, literacy, health and corruption. It is best to allow such issues of faith to resolve on their own in due course as the society evolves. Several such practices which were in vogue for centuries in the country have slowly disappeared with the spread of literacy and awareness. This too will pass.

Any attempt to find a legal resolution could backfire as similar questions could be raised with regard to mosques. Will the Supreme Court or the government then intervene and make it mandatory for mosques to permit women?

Sometimes, the best course of action is inaction.

COMMENTS

Gautham, Anyway Lord Ayyappa will not come Jayamala’s rescue. Your detailed report is so good. Through your blog, many people can understand the issue much better. Thank you.
-Machaiah B.U., Wayanad

As usual, just the 'write' stuff!
-Ananthakrishnan M, Bangalore

Has resignation saga dented Lok Ayukta image?

M. Gautham Machaiah

Now that the brouhaha over the resignation of Karnataka Lok Ayukta Justice Santosh Hegde and its subsequent withdrawal has died down, it is time for some introspection.

Justice Hegde announced his resignation at a press conference over the government’s failure to empower the Lok Ayukta, and then withdrew it under equally dramatic circumstances in full media glare.

During the entire drama, Justice Hegde washed dirty linen in public, spewing fire and brimstone at the government, even levelling serious allegations against the Chief Minister and his ministers. The Lok Ayukta’s disgust at the state of affairs is understandable, but those holding public offices, especially judges, are expected to act with a certain degree of restraint.

Even as of lakhs of people of the State led by none other than Governor Hans Raj Bharadwaj made an impassionate plea to Justice Hegde to withdraw his resignation and continue the crusade against corruption, he refused to budge.

Then one fine day, BJP president Nitin Gadkari and Chief Minister B.S. Yediyurappa come calling at the Lok Ayukta’s residence preceded by a phone call by party boss L.K. Advani, and Justice Hegde withdraws his resignation in deference to their wishes!

Judges are expected to strictly adhere to a code of conduct, and propriety demands that they do not entertain politicians, particularly at their residence. And now that Justice Hegde has openly professed his respect for “father figure” Advani, all his decisions will naturally be viewed with jaundiced eyes. Caesar’s wife should be above suspicion.

No doubt, the government has announced certain steps to strengthen the Lok Ayukta, but it is no secret that this is merely eyewash aimed at appeasing Justice Hegde and buying temporary truce with him. One fails to understand how a seasoned and distinguished judge like Justice Hegde had bitten the bait. Had the judge stood his ground, he would have emerged taller.

Unfortunately, the propensity to play to the gallery seems to have become the biggest bane of the justice delivery system today. While sitting judges mostly live behind the iron curtain, retired judges discharging judicial responsibilities seem to enjoy basking in media glory.

Justice Hegde’s crusader predecessor Justice N. Venkatachala, now a forgotten hero, always had the media in tow during his so-called raids on corrupt officers, but the same enthusiasm was not seen in the prosecution of the accused. In fact, many of these cases fell through.

More recently, the Andhra Pradesh State Human Rights Commission and the National Commission for Protection of Child Rights banned the telecast of two reality shows on television, clearly exceeding their jurisdiction. These decisions received huge media publicity, but both the orders were stayed by courts, thereby severely denting the image of these institutions.

The Karnataka Lok Ayukta should resist falling into this trap. One wishes that lions like Justice Santosh Hegde do not end up as paper tigers.

(Picture sourced from www.flickr.com)