WHAT is known as the ‘VIP culture’ is perhaps an integral part of Indian culture.
Anybody whom somebody considers to be ‘somebody important’ can be treated as a VIP though for others that ‘somebody’ may be a ‘nobody’!
Nowhere is this peculiar phenomenon more evident than at the numerous places of worship spread across our country.
Some prominent ones have become lucrative enough to be ‘managed’ by charitable trusts controlled by nominees of those enjoying political power at any given time.
Such places are notorious for their custodians trading a glimpse of some deity in return for a glimpse of some money.
Blatant discrimination between devotees is now institutionalised by ‘special darshan’ and ‘VIP darshan’ queues and passes.
While poor devotees stand for hours in serpentine queues, those who purchase ‘special passes’ whiz in and out of such places of worship after making sure that the god inside has noticed them!
We do not know if the idols burdened by gold, silver and jewels notice such VIPs or bless them, but we do know that the thousands who have waited for long hours for their turn curse those who break the queue and steal a march ahead of them.
In addition to the paying variety of queue-jumpers, there is another variety of frequenters of shrines who simply throw their weight around due to the posts they happen to occupy.
These are the minions of officialdom politely known as ‘babu-log’ or impolitely as ‘fokatiyas’ (free-loaders).
The shrine managements oblige such people by conferring the benefits of special short-cut darshans on them without them having to purchase their preferential treatment via tickets, coupons or passes.
You may wonder why I am narrating all this.
Well, it is a necessary preamble to the story I am about to narrate.
***
Once it so happened that a desk officer and a deputy registrar of the Bombay High Court decided to go with their families for an early morning ‘darshan’ at the famous Siddhi Vinayak Ganpati at Prabhadevi in Mumbai.
It is a much sought after place of worship and a big money-spinner. Naturally, it is controlled by a government-appointed body.
These high court officials made a few phone calls and managed the freebie of short-cut ‘special darshan’ passes. As it was the auspicious day of Sankashti Chaturthi, long queues of devotees were lined up outside the temple gates even before daybreak.
But for the weight-throwers, all this did not matter. They came, bypassed everyone, were chaperoned into the temple like royalty and given gifts and prasad at the time of send-off.
This entire exercise took just around 30 minutes while the not-so-privileged devotees continued to wait patiently for their turn.
When such a turn finally comes, ordinary mortals are treated like second-class citizens and shoved around thereby barely getting a glimpse of the presiding deity ensconced in the sanctum sanctorum.
As these two high court ‘VIPs’ were exiting the temple, they noticed an old man in the long queue. His face seemed very familiar.
The deputy registrar said to the desk officer: “Look at that tall, thin and bald man with spectacles. Doesn’t he seem familiar?”
Desk officer (laughing): “He could easily pass off as a twin brother of our Chief saheb.”
The deputy registrar nodded in agreement. They walked on, crossed the road and were looking for cabs when they spotted a familiar figure.
It was the Chief Justice’s driver in plain clothes.
“What are you doing here?” they enquired.
“I am waiting for this queue to move ahead,” he replied.
“But you are not even in the queue… do you need a special fast-tracked darshan? We can arrange it by calling up a trustee. We just did that, took VIP darshan and came out.”
The driver replied: “It’s not me. Chief saheb and his wife have been in that long queue since 4 a.m., awaiting their turn for darshan.”
The two high court officials were shocked to the core by this information. They ran back inside the temple and reached the trustees’ room.
They were panting as they blurted out: “Come fast! Chief Justice saheb of the Bombay High Court is waiting outside in the common queue.”
Now it was the trustee’s turn to be surprised, “We had no intimation from protocol about a VVIP visit today.”
He grabbed one of the huge garlands meant for the idol and sprinted out with the two high court officials and some temple assistants in tow.
The thin old bespectacled man was still in the queue with his wife when this motley group surrounded him and began touching his feet.
They tried to garland him but he looked most embarrassed.
He refused to be garlanded and he refused to leave his place in the common man’s queue.
“Sir, you are the Chief Justice,” pleaded the trustee and the officials.
Chief: “Here I have come just as a humble devotee.”
Trustee: “Sir, you are a VVIP. You can walk in straight to the sanctum sanctorum. It is your right as per protocol.”
Chief: “Please go away. Don’t worry about me. I will take darshan as an ordinary devotee. I believe that all people are equal in the eyes of God as they are in the eyes of the law. No one is special.”
The officials of the high court and the temple management had no option but to go away.
But after that, the entire line of common people suddenly started moving fast. In about 45 minutes the Chief Justice and his wife were able to take darshan, make their offering and leave.
The reason I have narrated this incident is because this was a very rare instance. In my long years of practice, I haven’t heard of anything like this about any other Chief Justice of the Bombay High Court.
This particular Chief Justice was a very erudite, upright, God-fearing man loved and respected by all. He had come from a neighbouring high court.
Though he strove to give justice in accordance with the law, justice was not always done to him during his career as a judge. He had to witness his junior colleagues being elevated to the Supreme Court ahead of him but soldiered on like a stoic.
The experience of jumping queues had affected him even in service. But the light at the end of the tunnel finally reached him and he did get his rightful, well-deserved elevation to the Supreme Court.
Post-retirement, he continues to author and edit law books and is a much sought-after arbitrator.
Chief justices have continued to lecture on ‘equality‘ at every opportunity. And ‘short-cut darshans‘ where the rich bypass the poor, have proliferated everywhere.
