Hierarchy of Bastards

When Gora Sahibs were settling in India, they needed the Indian blood to assist. For this purpose, a specific mindset was nurtured. A colonial mindset. Jobs were given. Lands were allotted. Bureaucracy was strengthened.
And within some time, a generation was raised. A generation of bastards. Who rose as nawabs and landlords and pretty much Gods of people who don’t matter. Like Achakzai mattered and the police constable didn’t.
But not only nawabs or landlords. Bureaucrats, clerks and drivers too. Who can mess up things, from your pension files to widow assistance plans to your final submission to misery.
That generation of bastards is now everywhere. In every system. In every public office. In every state institution. Behind every single public desk.
Driver of a Secretary, well, is a Secretary.
Driver of a Nawab is a Nawab.
Doggy of a Sain is Sain.
A dumb-fucked clerk behind a desk has more power and authority than a professor.
A driver has more influence than a PhD scholar’s years of research work.
I usually say that if you are down with your self-centered lusts, go visit a public hospital’s ICU. Roam randomly. You will see wrinkles deepened with existence of mere being. You will see slips and bills which are moving from hand to hand for nothing. You will witness people breathing their last breath of despair.
But if you want to appreciate death, go visit Accountant General’s (AG) Office. Next to Lahore High Court. People, after years of services, are rolling from one table to another to get their pension or funds or due financial support.
A widow will be drifting here and there to get her financial assistance approved. The only source of her income-would-be. After her dead husband. Mind you, she came all the way from Rahim Yar Khan. But – foolish of her – she doesn’t know she’s missing the integral step. Greasing of palms.
A 60-year-old ex-government-employee who is now in need to get his paper work done. To be eligible for his monthly pension. But first, he has to give a lump-sum amount to the clerk.
This way, money moves upwards. From junior clerk to senior clerk to stenographer to private assistant to staff officer to director to additional secretory to secretary.
This is hierarchy of bastards.
And on the top are Napoleans.
The pigs from Orwell’s Animal Farm.
Apart from snatching money from the public, there are other ways too. Formal ways. Where money is taken from development and non-development heads.
If a genuine TA / DA claim is for Rs.20 thousand, it will emerge as Rs.40 thousand. And all will get their share. Cumulative effect will be in millions in a month. This is precisely why bastards in SO(G) offices are the strongest one in any public department.
Similarly, funds are taken out from development scheme. A room that you construct at home, which costs around Rs.5 lacs, will cost around Rs.15 lacs in public work. It will be approved in PC-I with all the costs, estimates and drawings. Everyone, from contractor to SDO to XEN to SE to the Pig on top will get their due share.
Other ways are getting funds for office furniture or repair and maintenance. In the end, third-party auditors get their share (which is clearly defined in %ages) and will clear all the loopholes and flaws. Even funds for public mosques are not spared.
The bastards of Budget, Account, and Audit are all for such works. Other than accounting and finance, they mostly render pimping services with funds to the masters above them. With their mouths fixed to the masters’ arse, they get their ‘due’ share of whatever the masters’ excrete.
And the system is running. It’s working. The one who will try to be a whistle-blower, will be taken to the cleaners. With allegations and fake charges. A woman can even face character assassination if need be.
This generation of bastards with pigs on the top is evidently running the republic. From secretariat to public departments to district offices to session courts. Everyone is part of it yet no one is corrupt.
Words. Just words.
Words cannot burn a system. But I wish. I wish I can burn the entire system one day. But right now, it’s only blood that burns and is wasted.

Author: SakiNama

His Highness

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