by Ruskin Bond
'Except some trains like Rajdhani Express, and a couple of other express trains to and from Delhi which have very few stops,' Harjinder said.
'Except for a very few trains. That's right,' Virendra agreed.
'The trains ran right on time during the Emergency,' Harjinder said.
'Yes. But I am not sure whether that is a good way to ensure punctuality. Rather, I am sure that is not a good way to ensure punctuality. That distaste for totalitarianism is one of the good things that we have in this country. There is nothing to say in favour of corruption, but even some corruption is better than any kind of authoritarian rule,' Virendra's assertion was unambiguous.
'But unless the corruption is ruthlessly removed, this country has no future,' Harjinder replied.
'Yes, but how are you going to remove this corruption? You have heard the proverb that says that the ghost is sitting inside that very mustard seed that would be used to chase it away,' Virendra said.
Khanna was enjoying the conversation. He never felt enthusiastic or got excited in these kinds of discussions. He was conscious of social maladies, but somehow he did not let them bother him too much. There was an innate passivity in him. He interjected lightly, 'In that case, the right thing to do would be to take a handful of seeds and not be limited to a few.'
'Yes, that is a good idea. But then some seeds might not have the ghost in them, but it is equally likely that there would be some with two, or worse, even multiple ghosts in them. Then? How would you know ahead of time which has how many?' Virendra mischievously said.
'Then we are sunk,' Khanna said. All three laughed.
But it was Khanna who changed the topic again. 'Really Virendra, do you think there is any chance of getting your machine fixed today?' he was serious and concerned, and looked straight at Virendra's eyes.
'Very little,' Virendra answered quite gravely while gazing at the surface of the table.
'Then what can be done?'
'Probably nothing. There is a general pattern involving all the equipment that have been procured from abroad. There is almost always an Indian agent involved as an intermediary. He brings technical specifications from glossy booklets and negotiates the order, and takes a cut of ten percent or twenty percent from the supplier. Sometimes he has little technical know-how of the field and does not understand what he is selling, for example in our case.'
'How does the manufacturer give such a high cut?'
'That's simple. By raising the price by that amount.'
'That would be a fairly large sum.'
'Yes, for a hundred-thousand-dollar equipment, it would be ten thousand dollars straight. And often, these days, major scientific equipments cost more. If one can sell five such instruments in a year, he has got it made. It is good business. And this is not very difficult because the government spends a lot of money on science.'
'But wouldn't they have quite a job to see that the machines they supply run all right for the warranty period?'
'Not quite. That depends on how smoothly the agent can operate. In a country where letters do not reach on time, telephones do not work, you have an in-built challenge to communicate your problems to the agent promptly. Then he may not reply, or he may reply late; he may say that somebody would come and actually not send anybody – a year of warranty would pass in no time! If you are unlucky then the machine does not offer you much of service.'
'Can't you write to the original manufacturer?'
'It is mostly a useless exercise. Forget about our special case where the manufacturer did not even ship a properly designed and working machine; even when a working machine arrives and later starts malfunctioning, to keep it functioning properly with local support is nearly impossible. The agent's engineer—usually he is not even a proper engineer but some kind of polytechnic graduate with a euphemistic title—has only a vague knowledge of what's happening. In the best case he may locate the fault and find that he does not have the spare parts. Then he would ask you to import those parts. In that case you can forget it for the next several months. Dr Srinivasan had a microdensitometer, manufactured by a European company; that equipment has been sitting as junk for the past five years.'
'Why would it take months to import spare parts? These days in twenty hours you can reach any part of the globe.'
'Do you know what NMI is?' Virendra asked.
'No,' Khanna timidly replied.
'Not manufactured in India. DE?'
'No.'
'Duty exemption. RBI?' Virendra asked with a smile.
'Yes. That one is simple.'
'To import spare parts without paying duty—because your university would not allow you to pay duty to import parts if the government has a clause by which educational institutions could be spared such payment—you have to first write to the Reserve Bank giving documents such as Air Way Bill through which the original equipment came to this country, and provide other justifications for importing the parts. When such permission is available, you have to apply for NMI, DE, before you can process the import. And none of these applications can be processed in the city; you have to send your applications elsewhere.'
Virendra continued, 'If you don't know these elaborate rules, most people do not—in fact I learned this recently—you wouldn't have collected and kept a copy of the original Air Way Bill. And the matter could very well end there, because you wouldn't be able to retrieve that from university records anyway; they were long lost in some heap of papers in the accounts section. They would simply tell you that it was irretrievable and would not let you probe any further.'
'Then?'
'Then you are in even deeper soup. Because you have to beg now either the agent or the original supplier so that somehow they find a part and fix it. However, they are usually generous and sweet, they would ask you to be patient for a while—actually what they mean is until they procure some more orders from your institution—then they would do something. Very rarely do they do anything; you go in an endless loop, until you give up. Or find money to buy another one. Nobody is interested in repairs. There is no money in repairs. New machines – that's where the money is.'
'What about technicians at the university? Can't these people be trained for some specific instruments?'
Virendra looked now at Harjinder Singh. 'Tell me what shall we do with this naive teacher? So innocent!'
'Impart some wordly knowledge to him. About the birds and the bees. And university technicians. It is good for him. It will make him respect us. Or hold, I will tell him,' Harjinder responded.
'Well,' Harjinder addressed Khanna, 'that breed does not exist any more who could be trained for such purposes. Yes, there are still a few, but very few. There is neither the basic ability nor the motivation. There are technical officers on the mechanical side, some of them earn more than a newly appointed lecturer, but who have not touched a machine for the past twenty years – they have done mostly managerial jobs for some bosses. On the electronics side, I know people who are basically good, but they find managerial jobs like purchase of personal computers or electronic components more attractive. They do no technical job. And since one cannot get a thing purchased in months through the bureaucracy and inefficiency of the central purchase section, these people thrive, because their departmental administration find them a useful tool.'
'You two are intimidating me. Tell me something nice,' Khanna said.
'Well, your forthcoming visit to Kilimanjaro will be a good one,' Virendra said with a smile.
'Hey, how do you know something that is secret? However, let me tell you it is not mountain K, but some other hilltop. I will tell you all about it when I return,' Khanna said. Then he added, 'Seriously Virendra, why did you buy this damned incompetently, inadequately designed machine in the first place? I thought that you were a smarter lad than that.'
'I had no money to buy anything better.'
'What do you mean? Who gave you whatever you had in the first place?'
'Science Research Counc
il.'
'Oh! Gupta's empire! I am surprised that they gave you something after all. It is quite understandable that they would not give you anything with which you could do some work and publish results. Tell me, the details must be interesting.'
'But the first wrench was given by someone from our neighbouring university.'
'I bet I know who that was. Shashikant. Right?'
'Right. But it does not take much to guess that; so not much credit. It was interesting that he did not know I had a proposal pending. The day before the meeting at the Science Research Council we had a meeting at the city university which we both attended; I knew that he would be in Delhi the next day as a member of the advisory committee, but he did not know that I would be there too, with a proposal. So he was furious to see me at the meeting next day in Delhi because I did not give him the time to prepare a case against my proposal.'
'You rascal! But I wonder Chauhan, why do you have adversaries. I know you are a decent person,' Khanna asked.
Virendra did not answer, he just looked at Khanna pleasantly and remained quiet.
'Because he is immature. He keeps telling politically incorrect truths,' Harjinder volunteered.
There was silence. After a pause Khanna asked, 'Then, then what happened?'
'So we made our presentations. I could see him fume all the time, but he could say little. He tried some insinuations while I spoke, with some suggestions that we should build such a machine rather than buy, but he went nowhere. Technically he understood little, he was a specialist neither in dynamics of gas-metal interactions nor electron microscopy. Ours was among several proposals that found general approval from the members of the committee. We worked out a rough budget. Gupta, no friend, seemed to support the general consensus, and we dispersed with a commitment to submit the final proposal in a certain prescribed format. Which we did.'
'Were the minutes circulated?' Harjinder asked.
'No. Not to my knowledge. That is not the Council's style.' 'Then what happened?'
'Well, I did not hear anything for months; but in the meantime we came to know that almost every other person whose proposal was considered, received their grants; practically whatever they asked. Equipment worth three million rupees each. We wrote to SRC; there was no reply. We wrote again. Then I was asked to attend another meeting. Gupta was there, so was Shashikant, and a few others of the court.'
'Kangaroo court!' Harjinder exclaimed.
'Then? Go on!' Khanna urged.
'The top boss was there. By then he had received a briefing. He made some watery inquiries, the type that are used as excuses. We had sharp exchanges. Shashikant once interjected and asked whether our proposal would suit the SRC chemistry programme more – because if it did, then the problem of a disgruntled scientist was solved. It would be out of the materials science committee.'
'What did Gupta do?' Harjinder asked.
'Well, Gupta is cleverer. He wanted to appear as the good man; he wanted it thrown out by somebody else. And he succeeded.'
Khanna and Harjinder were both listening intently. Virendra continued, 'A few weeks later I received a letter informing me that we were to receive a grant. One-fourth of what was needed for the programme. In the meantime the prices had increased; we had no money to buy the equipment from the manufacturer that we wanted – they had a tested equipment for the purpose. So I was in a dilemma about what to do.'
'In a way that was what they wanted. Actually I was trapped. If I said no, then we would have no funds. It was then totally indefinite and up to them when they would consider again a fresh proposal from us if we submitted one. And if I said yes, then true we had some money, but with that money we would not be able to do anything. It was already two years delayed. So I discussed the matter with my students and decided to risk the second alternative.'
'So the present supplier is the one who had no know-how on electron microscopes,' Harjinder inquired.
'Not quite so. They are quite good in electron microscopes, but they had no experience of building specialised equipment that we needed,' Virendra replied.
'How did you get hold of them?' Harjinder asked.
'Well, I sent an inquiry to the company overseas, and soon their Delhi-based agent was after my tail. He followed me nearly everywhere I went, worked day and night getting answers to my queries from their principals, and then finally requisitioned his big brother from Madras for help. Both of them came, agreed to whatever specifications I sought – they wanted the order! In the meantime I was checking with the original company whether they would reduce their price, but they refused to come down. For the price we could pay, we would get only half of their instrument; and there was no way I could bridge the other half. So finally, and reluctantly, I opted for the present company. And as a result, you know what state I am in!'
'But it is very silly to remain quiet about it all,' Khanna said.
'That's what I keep telling Virendra. But he would not listen,' Harjinder said.
'What can one do?' Virendra asked.
'Well, you can make life miserable for those fellows. Publicising the truth, letting people know what is going on nationally in the name of science,' Harjinder said agitatedly.
'Then I would not be doing even what little work we manage to do. And then they will succeed even further in what they wish me to get dissipated in. Further, I am a humble worker. I am not a reformer,' Virendra said.
'But you cannot give away the world to whom you despise,' Harjinder said forcefully.
'There you are quoting someone,' Virendra said.
'Right. But a quotable quote. It is because we let these people practise their rackets without protest and without public criticism that this situation is perpetuated,' Harjinder said.
'But isn't there any firm in this country which can take up the job where you can expect full-time involvement?' Khanna again wanted to change the subject.
'None,' Harjinder answered this time. 'They are in their infancy. Rather, they are yet to be born.'
'Well, there must be some instrumentation people in the country. One can take their help. Actually, it seems to me that this should be an area where an intense activity and much support from SRC should be,' Khanna made a suggestive inquiry.
'That's hitting the nail on the head!' Harjinder said. 'If that's done then bosses in SRC cannot any longer arbitrarily allocate to themselves all that money to buy foreign equipment for their research. Crores of rupees! Instead of building an infrastructure to build equipment, so that some day we become self-sufficient or independent in making instruments, we are buying the final finished goods, and when one machine is gone, another one, because the kitty is under their control. The plea is that if we get that imported equipment then we can show the world our scientific prowess. But the summary is that no prowess, nothing, is seen. And this perverse priority will keep us dependent, as it did in colonial times, forever on import,' Harjinder paused after uttering these sentences non-stop.
'What about SRC support in building equipment?' Khanna inquired.
'Negligible,' Virendra said, 'there are a few instances of some small support, too meagre to expect a complete instrument. And it is common sense that it takes much more to build a prototype than in repeat commercial production of the same instrument.'
'Dr Y. M. Rao of your Department was telling me the other day,' Harjinder said looking at Khanna, 'that there is one Dr Abraham in Calicut Institute, who is a good physicist and at the same time good in instruments. He knew the business of Mossbauer spectroscopy inside out. He submitted several times research proposals to SRC for building an indigenous and yet sophisticated Mossbauer spectrometer; practically every time he was turned down. His fault was that he was an outspoken man. Once he was given some money, he showed results, but to no avail. They would not give him funds to buy a major equipment, with the clever ploy that he was competent in instrumentation, so he should build one. But they would not give him the money necessary to build either. Finally he gave up total
ly frustrated.'
'But how do they manage to grant themselves funds to buy expensive equipment, when in the country's interest they should pay major attention to obtaining self-sufficiency in scientific instruments?' Khanna asked.
'That's not difficult,' Virendra said. 'The bogey employed, as Harjinder said, is that something must be done so that the country's image in the international scientific field is enhanced. And that cannot be done either by building indigenous instruments or by spreading the money too thin by giving research grants to too many. A few groups are to be chosen and they must be supported adequately. They must have the funds to buy the latest equipment in the field for their research.'
'From the surface, it would mean,' Harjinder interjected, 'that there is merit in it. Because there is little point in distributing the money as general charity. But the deeper truth is that money is distributed among a chosen few in an inner group; the public does not even know the details of this distribution. The other truth is that despite this approach, the country's science has made absolutely no impact on the international scene.'
'All right,' Khanna said, 'there is nothing to disagree with your statement that this country's scientific contribution is insignificant. In fact, I don't know whether you have seen them or not, but in two issues of Progress in Science there has been editorial evaluation of present-day science in this country, and this exactly is their conclusion. It is a pity how incompatible this is with the fact that the country has the world's third largest scientific manpower.'
The waiter appeared at the table with Virendra's lunch. He had also brought coffee for Khanna and Harjinder. Khanna noticed him coming first. He said, 'Here, Dr Chauhan, for you a change from food for thought to food for physical existence. Your favourite dish!'