So everyone who knows me, knows that I can be very vocal about issues in India. Especially those related to bureaucracy and attitudes towards women. But something amazing happened on my trip to India that I forgot to share.
I bought two TVs on my trip to Singapore. (side note: Indians buying TVs in Singapore and taking it back to India is a thing! There was a separate aisle on the airport to stack the TVs. ). So, according to the website, the two TVs were within the allowed custom limit and I wouldn't have to pay the fees. But sooooo many people told me that if you have two TVs, the custom officers will make you pay a fee and there is no way to get around it. The logic being that someone who is buying two LCD TVs is rich enough to pay a hefty bribe.
My dad told me that the standard norm was to roll two Rs. 1000 notes in my hand and smoothly give it to the security guard and just walk out confidently. He warned me repeatedly not to get any funny ideas in my head about ideals. I think his parting words were pretty much, "don't fuck this up". I reach the airport and convert my last $40 into 2000 Indian rupees (at the worst exchange rate ever). As I am walking confidently into the "green channel", I realized that my dad completely missed the biggest loophole in the plan; I don't know how to give a bribe!!
So I am walking by the all these custom officials and within seconds they are like, "Ma'am two TVs? Please go through the red channel". I am frantically looking for the supposed security guard (the one who I had to bribe) who was supposed to come rescue me. I didn't know who the heck I was supposed to give the money to! I then see him, and it was unmistakable. The sleazy sly grin. I am pushed towards the red channel by the other custom officer and I quickly circle around and come back determined to finish the task assigned to me. I approach the bribe-guard directly and he sees the money in my hand. So he knows it, and I know it. Now here is the problem, I am scared to cross the one foot distance between our hands to give it to him. The guard says in Hindi, " Poor little girl like you with two big TVs. Surely you need help and I can give it to you". The custom officer comes back, "Is there a reason this lady is wandering around lost? Ma'am, please go to the red channel". The guard goes, "Sir, let me help her. It seems like she needs help." The security guard comes and stand right next to me again and all I had to do was barely extend my hand and my ordeal would be over. I couldn't.
I trudge back indignantly to the red channel hoping I can pay with my credit card and my dad will never have to know that I failed. The custom officer at the red channel was nothing like I expected. He was very polite, spoke crisp English, asked about my trip and promptly gave me the permission slip to pass by without paying anything. I couldn't believe it! Here I was "the weaker sex" flashing two LCD TVs in his face and he actually treated me with complete respect. He then asks me, "You're clearly within the allowed limit, then why did you keep going back and forth?" The honest answer was that in this situation, my country hadn't failed me, I had failed my country.
I remember once being super stressed about shit and bitching to my friend. He simply texted back.. "Chill.. good things are happening too." That line really struck a chord. Stayed with me. I feel like this is something I haven't been acknowledging when it comes to my country. So many things are changing for the better. Homosexuality was decriminalized just a few years ago. The people are making a stand against corruption. Just yesterday, a normal guy from Mizoram wrote in his blog about how he felt bad that a Mumbai cop called him "Nepali", and within the day, the Mumbai police sent him a letter apologizing and invited him to join the investigation to find the offending cop. It's giving me a warm fuzzy feeling inside :)... kinda like when I marched triumphantly out of the airport, gave the crumpled money to my dad and said proudly, "Trust the system, dad. Good things are happening too".
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