
Not long ago, there was a certain daredevil chief minister of a certain state (not Laloo of Disneyland) who called his director of public relations (DPR) and asked him to appoint a certain fellow as district public relations officer (DPRO) in a certain district.
The DPR submitted to him respectfully that there was already a DPRO in position there. “Transfer him to some other district,” commanded the CM. The DPR bowed his head like a darbari in Mughal darbar and whispered gently to the CM, “I would be happy to do that, sir, but I would suggest that first you may like to talk to the home minister.” The CM wanted to know why that was necessary. “That is,”’ submitted the DPR, “because the present DPRO happens to be the son-in-law of the home minister’s brother and he is the one who looks after his farmlands.”
“What about my farmlands?” the CM almost said, but he didn’t. For he knew that the DPR knew that his own farmlands, too, lay in the same district. “All right,” said the CM, “let the home minister’s brother’s son-in-law continue to work there as DPRO. Let the man I am talking about also taken there as DPRO.”
How could that be? There could be only one DPRO in a district just as there could only be one CM (Bihar excluded, again) in a state. “Under the rules, Sir,” ventured the DPR, “there can be only one DPRO in a district.”
The CM could not brook that kind of advice from his DPR. “Who makes rules?” he put it to him a bit sternly. “You, sir,” submitted the DPR meekly. “In that case,” said the CM, “the rule from today is that in the district I am talking about, there will be two DPROs till further orders.”
The second DPRO was appointed and everything proceeded according to plan. Just as everything is proceeding according to plan in today’s India where every second member of the ruling alliance at the Centre is either a minister or chairman of some corporation or committee holding the rank of a minister. Just as in Mayawati’s kingdom in UP, there are ministers hopelessly struggling to find out what they are expected to do. Just as in Shinde’s poultry farm in Maharashtra, strict control is exercised to see that the chickens don’t go astray.
We are told that rules are in the making to restrict the size of cabinets to ten per cent of the legislators. “We know,” said good old Ghalib, a long time ago, “that paradise does not exist. But the idea is good. Let it remain as one of Ghalib’s favourite fantasies.”


