Chankya's Chant (55 page)
‘And the other dictation?’ asked Menon, looking up from his shorthand notes.
‘Fellow Worker. The INWF has worked diligently to negotiate an increased wage settlement with the management of R&S. The obstacle in this effort has been the president of your union, Vikram Singh Tyagi of CPUK, who has done everything possible to derail the negotiations. His secret pact with Mr Somany entitles him to a large personal payoff for preventing the new salary agreement from being implemented. The time has come for CPUK members to ditch their betraying and corrupt union and join an organisation that speaks up for you first. Join the INWF. I look forward to meeting you at our weekly meeting on Tuesday. Yours sincerely. Lalji Garg, President, INWF.’
‘To whom do I have to send these?’
‘Tell the president of the ABNKU—Upendra Kashyap—to have letterheads of both the CPUK and INWF printed privately. Send him these two drafts and ask him to have them cyclostyled in huge numbers. The CPUK letter should be sent to INWF members and the INWF letter to CPUK members.’
‘But we’re letting the two unions meddle in the affairs of the two partners. Is that wise?’ asked Menon.
‘The partners wanted to put up a façade of battle, where none exists. They used the façade to pull down governments, resurrect new ones, clear contracts, and now they want to use their devious methods to pull down Chandini and the ABNS. If they want a fight, by God, I shall give them one!’ thundered Gangasagar.
‘But this could lead to inter-union rivalry! It could get violent,’ exclaimed Menon.
‘When two elephants fight, the grass will suffer, Menon.’
Riot control police, wearing protective helmets and carrying shields and gas masks, cordoned off the thin dividing line between the two warring unions. The line had been declared off-limits to both sides and armoured police vehicles and mobile storage tanks that supplied pressurised water to the cannons had been placed along it. The policemen were equipped for all eventualities— carrying shotguns, tear gas canisters, pepper sprays, lathis and tasers. On either side of the divider demarcated by the police stood thousands of union workers, waving red and black flags and carrying banners in support of their respective organisations. Both sides’ vociferous leaders used megaphones to exhort their members to vanquish and destroy the other side, besides destroying the management—the capitalist pigs! The scene was repeated at virtually all locations of the R&S empire— R&S Steel, R&S Agro, R&S Cement, R&S Telecom, R&S Petroleum, R&S Infrastructure, R&S Textiles, R&S Pharma and R&S Aviation.
The former finance minister—he had been forced to resign owing to Gangasagar’s machinations—was being interviewed on television. He was saying, ‘The situation is fairly serious. I think it’s very unfortunate. When you look at the R&S conglomerate, the workers there are the most highly paid! Some elements from outside are creating this problem. I am all for protection of workers’ rights. In no way should workers’ rights be compromised, but there has to be a fair process by which problems between management and workers are sorted out. My fear is that if it isn’t controlled, the situation may get worse.’
‘He’s taken the bait, the foolish man. It’s time to use my straight flush not only to destroy him but also anyone who thinks that they can take me out of the game,’ thought Gangasagar as he watched the interview.
‘Sir, land for Special Economic Zones—SEZs—was allotted by the commerce ministry without considering the intrinsic value of it. Thousands of acres of land were given away to a single company, R&S Realty,’ said the news anchor, ‘would you care to comment?’
‘No comment,’ said the irritated prime minister, ‘I was defence minister then, you should ask that of the then minister for commerce.’
‘Sir, telecom licences were issued in an arbitrary fashion at fees that were low, even going by ten-year-old benchmarks. Subsequently, the company that obtained the new spectrum allocations sold its stake to outside investors for huge profit. The company that was allocated the licence was R&S Telecom,’ said the anchor. ‘Can you shed some light on the issue?’
‘No comment,’ said the angry prime minister, ‘I was defence minister at the time, you should ask the then minister for telecommunications.’
‘Sir, oil exploration rights were handed out to R&S Petroleum even though oil had already been discovered,’ said the news anchor. ‘Can you tell us why you did not step in?’
‘No comment,’ said the flustered prime minister. ‘I was only defence minister, you should ask the then minister for petroleum.’
‘Sir, large quantities of fodder and fertiliser were procured from R&S Agro for farmers and cattle that did not exist,’ said the anchor. ‘How could you allow such deals to pass muster?’
‘No comment,’ said the helpless prime minister. ‘I was only defence minister, you should ask the then minister for agriculture.’
‘The former finance minister ensured that he took the prime minister down with him. The grapevine is abuzz with news that the PM has resigned,’ said Agrawalji.
‘If he hadn’t resigned, the entire government would have come crashing down—we would have had to withdraw the support of our MPs, and all at once, the comfortable majority would have disappeared,’ laughed Gangasagar.
‘Now what?’ asked Menon.
‘Well, we knocked out the finance minister so that the minister for external affairs could take his place, thus leaving the external affairs portfolio to Chandini. We’ve now knocked out the prime minister—in all probability the home minister will take his place. He’s the only one who has broad support from all quarters,’ said Gangasagar.
‘So the home minister’s slot will now fall vacant?’ asked Agrawalji.
‘Absolutely. And you know what, it needs a thug at the helm of affairs to control things,’ said Gangasagar.
‘Ikram? Are you mad, Ganga? We don’t even know whether the plot to sabotage Chandini’s chopper had his blessings or not. And you want him as home minister?’ said Agrawalji.
‘Yes. One should keep one’s friends close and enemies even closer,’ replied Gangasagar and burst out laughing.
‘What’s so funny?’ asked Agrawalji.
‘Ikram’s always been responsible for a large chunk of the crime in Kanpur. He now gets to be responsible for nationwide crime!’
‘How many people were murdered last year?’
‘32,481.’
‘And, say, fifty years ago?’
‘9,802.’
‘How many people were kidnapped last year?’
‘23,991.’
‘And fifty years ago?’
‘5,261.’
‘How many burglaries last year?’
‘91,666.’
‘And fifty years ago?’
‘147,379.’
‘We need more murders and kidnappings!’
‘Why?’
‘Don’t you see? Your burglars have graduated to bigger crimes such as murder and kidnapping. And as they’ve moved on, burglaries have actually dropped. Congratulations!’ said Ikram in a tone of irony to his home secretary.
‘What is the length of the border between India and Bangladesh?’
‘4,096 kilometres.’
‘India and China?’
‘3,488 kilometres.’
‘India and Pakistan?’
‘3,323 kilometres.’
‘India and Nepal?’
‘1,751 kilometres.’
‘India and Myanmar?’
‘1,643 kilometres.’
‘Including Bhutan and Afghanistan, a total of over fifteen thousand kilometres, right?’
‘That’s right.’
‘And how do you prevent infiltration of terrorists through these borders?’
‘Barbed wire fences and patrolling wherever possible.’
‘Bollocks! There’s no way you can police fifteen thousand kilometres of border areas. Do you know who knows these borders better than your police?’
‘Who?’
‘The smugglers. Help them smuggle their stuff. They’ll help you catch the terrorists.’
Ikram was visiting the National Crime Records Bureau— the NCRB. He noticed tens of high-speed printers spewing out reams of paper. ‘What’s that?’ he asked.
‘Daily reports, crime statistics, national briefings— they are required at various levels of the home ministry. The data is processed here and passed on to hundreds of functionaries within the departments,’ replied the home secretary.
‘Shut down the reports for a week,’ said Ikram.
‘What?’ asked the worried home secretary. ‘It will result in paralysis. How will senior officers manage without the information?’