Hi Friends,
The world is a marketplace….
This is my thought for the day. You must be wondering what has gotten into me. Am I drunk, or in a mood to talk nonsense? Well, no is the answer to all these. I am fully in my senses, and I haven’t hit my head at the bed post…Having clarified on my part, let me explain why this thought crossed my mind. Every day I walk out my door, go to the vegetable market and see vendors lined up with their goods arranged in attractive ways, that being a typical market; then I go to the building where I attend a class. The building is a commercial one, where education is sold at various prices. Outside the tea vendors, owners of small stalls compete for customers. At the offices it is we who sell to our clients. At homes money determines the market, sale and authority…..All these tiny observations inspire me to compare our surroundings with that of a marketplace.
The world market has various subdivisions, yesterday I paid a visit to the Black and White Market. A place where judicial services are sold. Advocates in black and white are the salesmen here. It is set in a huge building which is also the court. Ground floor is fully occupied by advocates, notaries and typists….
Walls painted with names, designations and contact numbers, Small desks, benches, tables with lockers underneath. The whole scene resembles the stalls from Arabian nights. Even before you fully get acquainted to the scenario, you stumble at the first desk. An advocate adorns almost every bench, on the left outs there is a typewriter, or a locked table chained to the floor.
Every now and then a guy in black and white, or a lady in white walked by. It was as if huge Bats were flying around….I earnestly searched for an honest looking face, a bit of kindness. It was rush hour so I stumbled among the people who walked by, to save myself I found a corner from where I could scan the crowd in ease. As I stood observing, a group of policemen walked in with a guy in handcuffs, that is when I realized that this court building is for criminal cases. The building that stands right next to it is where the non-criminal offences are discussed. Anyways in all this chaos I found a lady lawyer smiling at me and so I walked confidently to her desk.
I explained to her the situation and asked her to explain the procedures for obtaining the affidavit I needed. The deal had been stuck, she said “I will get it done, all you have to do is give me the details”. I couldn’t be happier, the whole way I had worried thinking about the documents to be submitted, the questions that would be asked, about the number of people I would have to approach and here sat a lady who was telling me that she would get it done…..I was ecstatic.
Then started the procedures….
Stage 1: Exchange of details.
All the requirements and details were jotted down on the back of a bill that my advocate procured from her handbag. Additional details added as starred inputs.
Stage 2: Stamp Paper
The advocate I had bagged led me through a maze of parked vehicles, and buildings to a place that resembled a temple courtyard with the only difference that the whole area was occupied by people wearing black and white uniform instead of the saffron wearing pandits. The makeshift desks sat on the floors and the advocates on carpets. It was a rare sight I must say, to see all those qualified people waiting in the scorching heat for clients to approach them. Observing as much as my vision would support I followed ….
The first stop was at that of a lady who sold Stamp papers, but unfortunately she did not have the one that I needed. So we moved on to the next, only to find a huge red register. The person who handled it was apparently out. Waiting was our only option…and so we waited…..
We had waited for around 10 minutes when another advocate came. A short exchange between my advocate and him made it clear that both were looking for the same person. Call it Chivalry or show off the guy decided to take the situation in his hands and boldly called the person we were waiting for. The call ended with a plea of urgency at the caller’s end. The call did work miracles because in a couple of minutes a thin old man with a smile on his face walked to the desk, opened it with the keys and brought out the 100 Rs Stamp our gentleman needed and the 50Rs stamp that we needed. I paid, provided a few details and signed on a register and the work was done.
Stage 3: Typing
This stage hardly needed any involvement on my side. The advocate had all the details and the typist sat next to her desk so we walked back the maze to the spot of our introduction. The typist was busy and so we had to wait for almost 45minutes before our turn…The time I utilized for some innocent queries as on how the whole circle worked…Its interesting The whole procedure has been divided among people at different levels, each person gets their cut and the work is done smoothly. On the other hand if one would tend to ignore those mediators the process will cost you days and a lots of documents.
As I enhanced my knowledge, our turn came and my advocate sat besides the typist giving the details. The typist, an expert in such procedures typed at least 45 words per minute and in no time the document was ready.
Stage 4: Official Seal
Armed with the newly typed document we walked again towards the adjacent building, again came the maze of people and vehicles, but this time we walked into a room with a really small entrance. The building itself was in a really bad shape, it seemed to be really old, maybe of the British era. In this small room was a man armed with different official seals. Without any introduction the content of the affidavit was explained, after 2 nods the seals dipped in blue were now on both the faces of the document.
Stage 5: Signature
The document is incomplete without the signature of the concerned official and so the now sealed document had to be signed. Again we walked to another wing of the same building, climbed a couple of Victorian
stairs and reached the office, but to our dismay the official was sitting elsewhere so we walked back and found the room. I stood outside waiting and in a few minutes my advocate handed me the signed document.
My work was done and so was her’s so I discreetly made my payment and walked out of the huge scary building with the newly acquired affidavit. A couple of hours and some money was the total cost for this legal document.
It pains me to the core to see how easy it is to make any legal document, all you need is money and patience. All of us including me always opt for the easier path. We all have our reasons lack of time, lack of some specific papers etc etc. But what we lack the most is patience to walk the right way and the presence of an alternative adds to our laziness. A syndicate is in work here.There’s a huge market for stamp papers and it is a different business on its own. It is a place where all blacks and whites are legal.
Who is to be blamed? ‘We the people’ who want everything to be easily available or ‘the officials’ who tend to bend a few rules to get things done? I consider myself at fault, and so I have pledged to myself that this is the last time I walk the easier path. It is a time for change my friends and the change rests within us….
This is what Robert Frost wrote in the year 1915…..
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I shall be telling this with a sigh
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Somewhere ages and ages hence:
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Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
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I took the one less traveled by,
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And that has made all the difference.
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Robert Frost (1874–1963). Mountain Interval. 1920.–The Road Not Taken
With this thought, this is Satrangee Parachute flying off with the winds of Change….