By Dolorem Ipsum
After our failed attempt at launching Rioters Anonymous in the city, my alter ego and I settled down to a life of quiet desperation. He realized that his constant negativity has started to have less of an effect on me, and I realized that I am forever “married” to the pills my shrink prescribes for me. He alleviated his hopeless ennui by counting imaginary stars, and I, quite content with his current mental state, kept as far away as possible from him. I went about with my life, and he went about his. We seldom crossed paths, that is until a few days ago when he went ballistic again. Again, like always, it was an article in your esteemed newspaper that triggered his outburst and, holy- molly, was it a violent one?
We can all agree that, weather wise, it has been a beautiful summer, thus far, this year. Of course, we have had our share of rains, thunderstorms and squalls, but, overall, it has been sunny and pleasant. My alter ego and I have enjoyed our morning walks, short drives, incidents of road rage, parking violations, debates with the clueless traffic police, staring contest with the out-of-control cab drivers, short jabs with the Evel Knievels on two wheelers, and, being a man of refined tastes, our evening “oh be joyfuls”. Yes, my secret is out, as a man of high stature, and who is a legend in his own mind, I enjoy my poisons—raw or diluted. No, I am not a “wino”, but an aficionado of fine “time travel juice”. Frankly speaking, in this time and age, almost everybody has jousted with the “lunatic soup”, one time or the other. If you hobnob with the nose-in-the-air elites, the stay-under-our-thumbs politicians, our sweet-self-conceited-and-arrogant bureaucrats, and the I-want-my-free-stuffs plebes, you have to partake in the festivities of enjoying the “giggle water”, else you will be considered an outsider, a puritan or a rigorist.
And believe me my alter ego hates being any of that or being relegated to the bench; he has to be the center of attraction, the cynosure of all eyes. He loves to attend parties and get-togethers, where our all-knowing Masters indulge in esoteric discussions about “Erwin Schrodinger’s thought experiment showcasing the problem of Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics,” the influence of late Tupac Shakur on the hip hop music culture in the post cold war era United States, the minutiae of Bob Dylan’s best work, or the effects of Delta, Vega and Theta on Options trading. Yes, we love to talk about those topics ad nauseam. It makes us feel intellectually superior, part of the sanctum sanctorum and, simply put, cool!
Of late, there has been a lot of hullaballoo about closure of liquor stores in the city based on an amended rule promulgated by the Meghalaya excise department. While my alter ego and I don’t want to get into a debate on the merits or demerits of this dictate—we think it will end up being a big nothingburger—we do want to have, for the sake of my sanity, a better understanding of the rationale for this amended rule. I am sure our brilliant bureaucrats have done the due diligence, evaluated the pros and cons of the changes being implemented and considered the law of unintended consequences, to reach the decision they have.
According to press release No. 663/15, “…Cabinet has approved the proposal by the Excise department for amendment of the Sub rule 2 of Rule 183 for regulating the location of various IMFL and beer retail off license or retail on licenses. Under this amendment, no IMFL or beer retail off licenses or retail on licenses would be issued in areas within a distance of 200 metres from any place of public worship or educational institution or hospitals and also no license would be granted for retail sale of liquor or any other intoxicants at any site situated within 100 metres from the midpoint of any national highway or state highway.
For the purpose of this rule, such part of national highway or state highway situated within the limits of any city, town or municipality or town committee the distance from the midpoint of any national highway or state highway shall be 50 metres and shall not cover the retail on license, he said. A time of six months have been given for all the existing liquor shops that fall within these distances to comply in as far as shifting their shops are concerned…”
Now, and I don’t know why, maybe my shrink has the answer, my alter ego has lost his mind after perusing the amended rules. He has harangued me for the last couple of months about this issue. I have tried everything humanly possible to shut his voice down, even increasing the dosage of my pills, but to no avail. Yesterday evening was especially brutal; I had a particularly vicious verbal duel with my alter ego, that has left me mentally drained, emotionally exhausted and physically weakened.
I arrived home late from work, the traffic madness already had me on the edge. From the outside, the house looked serene. On stepping in, I immediately felt something amiss. It felt like standing in the eye of the storm—everything looked calm and quiet at the center, whereas it was absolute madness at the periphery. He allowed me a few moments to settle down my frayed nerves, before he made his presence felt. He was very direct in his request to me, “This cannot wait any longer; you have been ignoring me for the last couple of months. Now, I’ll not take ‘No’ for an answer. You have to discuss this issue about the amended excise rules with me.”
My head was already hurting, and I thought to myself, “Let him vent it out, and you can ignore him.” Hence, I replied, “Ok, go on.”
“The amended rule states, ‘…no IMFL or beer retail off licenses or retail on licenses would be issued in areas within a distance of 200 metres from any place of public worship or educational institution or hospitals…‘.”
“Ok. So?” I said.
“So? So? Really? Can you help me understand, if a person will be allowed to sell liquor, after getting the license, of course, at 200.01 meters? If so, what changes when a shop is moved from 200 meters to say 200.01 meters? What is so sacrosanct about 200 meters? Will the places of worship, the educational institutions or the hospitals be less affected by the ruckus created by the drunks at 200.01 meters, than at 200 meters? Are places of worship the holiest at less than or equal to 200 meters and are measurably “less holy” at 200.01 meters; therefore, buying and selling of liquors will be allowed at that distance? Will an institution of learning remain an institution of learning at and up to 200 meters and be something else at greater than 200 meters? What about the hospitals, will doctors be more attentive to their patients, if hospitals are located at > 200 meters from a liquor store, but will the same hospital be less of a hospital and become a butcher shop, if the hospital is <= 200 meters from a liquor store? So, are the ills of liquor addiction acceptable at 200.01 meters, but they aren’t at 200 meters? Will alcoholics give up drinking if a shop is located at 200.01 meters, or will the number of drunk driving incidents decrease at 200.01 meters? I am sure, there must be a good reason behind 200 meters being the magic number? If so, why? Was there a study conducted, which proved that 200 meters is the number to target? Why not another arbitrary number, say, 196250.35 millimeters, or 214.6219925634 yards, or 643.8659776903 feet or 7726.3917322835 inches?”
“Uh huh” is all I could muster, but the alter ego did not like the response. So, I continued, “You know what, I don’t have answers to your questions, go ask the excise department. And, frankly, I don’t care. In India, there is something called a ‘jugaad’. Have you heard of that term? In India, when and if people want to drink, they will find a way to get that drink, even if prohibition is in effect. Do you think that “lunatic soup” is not available Nagaland, which happens to be dry state; do you think the alcoholics in Bihar aren’t drinking, or do you think the “giggle water” is not available in Gujarat? Do I have to spell out the answer for you?”
“So, you agree with me that this change of rule is eventually going to be a fruitless endeavour?” replied the alter ego.
“No, I didn’t say that. I said, I don’t care, and people have their ‘jugaad’. Our Masters have their ‘jugaad’, our bureaucrats have their ‘jugaad’, our elites have their ‘jugaad’. They don’t care about this amendment to the excise rules. Laws are only meant for the plebes, the upwardly mobile and the elites are above the law.”
“Ah, beating around the bush and ignoring my questions again, I see” said the alter ego. “Ok, never mind, let me continue. The amended rules also state, ‘… no license would be granted for retail sale of liquor or any other intoxicants at any site situated within 100 meters from the midpoint of any national highway or state highway…‘ Sorry, but did anybody clarify what the excise department means by “from the midpoint of any national highway or state highway”? Do they mean the middle of the road or the median? Again, what is so sacred about 100 meters? Will the truck drivers have second thoughts about parking their trucks in the middle of the road and buying the “giggle water”, if the store is at 100.01 meters? Maybe they will reason with themselves, “You know what, 100.01 meters is too long of a distance to travel for buying hooch. If only the store were at 100 meters, then I could have hopped, skipped and jumped to it for a quick shot.” Yep, I can so see them making that argument and changing their behavior. Can you not? What if they buy their poison from a legitimate liquor store and drink while driving? Who will prevent that from happening?”
“Whatever! I don’t know, and I don’t care.” I responded.
“Keep on ignoring my questions, but you are not getting away so easily, this time. Do you know how the distance is measured?” he continued. “Is it walkable distance, drivable distance or the shortest distance?”
“It doesn’t matter… remember ‘jugaad’… people with the right connections will find a way to figure out a loophole with the new rules.”
“Exactly,” the alter ego replied. “Initially, it seemed that the de-facto measurement standard was ‘the shortest distant’. And the shortest distant between two points, on a flat plane, is a straight line. According to many residents of Rynjah, a liquor store has been operating in their area by flouting the excise rules openly and no action has been taken by the authorities. It seems, based on the shortest distance calculation, this store should have been shut down by now. However, it is still operating and is turning the residential area into a “drunkards’ alley”. Now, after repeated complaints, somebody from the excise department visited the spot to ascertain facts. According to that person, walkable/drivable distance is used as the unit of measure, and the shop is more than 200 walkable/drivable meters away from the nearest Church. When asked if the excise department will allow a liquor store to operate, if the store abuts a religious institution, but the walkable/drivable distance between the two are greater than 200 meters, the person answered, wait-for-it, ‘Yes’.”
“So what? Their rules, their decisions. We anyway have no say in it.” I responded.
“You are quite dense, aren’t you?” was his terse reply. He continued, “So according to you, the liquor store that is operating < 200 meters away from B. K. Bajoria school is just fine?”
“As I said, their rules, their decisions. You have to live with it. You weren’t asked to vote on this measure, so you don’t have a say on this. Tomorrow, if they reverse their decision, because the politicians realize their folly, then, again, it will be ‘their rules, their decisions’. The quicker you understand that you are just a tax donkey to them, the easier will it be for you to get back to your normal self.”
“What about the madness that ensues in the road towards Polo, every Friday and Saturday, when people park their cars willy-nilly just to buy their weekend fix. You are okay with that too?” he retorted.
“Who is complaining about that problem?” I asked. “Are the people who are stuck in the jam complaining? No. They are just blaring their horns and smoking inside their cars? Are the traffic police issuing traffic tickets to the violators? No. They are busy mis-managing traffic? Are the politicians complaining? No? Are the bureaucrats complaining” No. Matter of fact, some of them are breaking the same rules they have legislated. So, who is complaining? Nobody. Stop trying to save people. Stop trying to be a Savior. You cannot save anybody if they are determined to destroy themselves. Only you can save yourself.” I pretty much screamed in disgust.
“So, isn’t there a better way to implement this rule without using arbitrary numbers and capricious decisions.” he deadpanned.
“Of course, there is,” I replied, “but who is going to listen to our proposals. The bureaucrats and the politicians are our Masters, and what they decide cannot be questioned by the plebes. For e.g., instead of using an arbitrary number, they could have used zones—a residential zone, a school zone and a hospital zone cannot have a liquor store, only a commercial zone can. Now, what qualifies as a residential zone—a zone where residential houses abound; a school zone—where schools dominate; a hospital zone—where hospitals predominate; a commercial zone—a zone that is considered downtown, where malls, shopping centers, etc., predominate. Now, what do we do if there is small school in a commercial area? In that case, err on the side of caution and don’t issue a liquor license. Think people first, businesses next. If that doesn’t work, then evaluate the possibility of allowing online purchase of liquor and remove all brick-and-mortar liquor stores. If all these ideas don’t work, then ask the citizens to decide. Allow some form of direct democracy. After all, aren’t we told that the will of the people matters? So, allow the people to decide. Residents of certain localities in Shillong have decided to not allow liquor stores in their area, then why can’t people in Rynjah decide that, too. But, therein lies the rub. If peoples’ will reign, then, the elites lose control. They cannot flout the rules, right, and they become powerless. So, how do you stymie peoples’ will, you act as their Master and be arbitrary and capricious.”
Slowly, very slowly, my alter ego was beginning to realize the futility of losing his mind over all this, and he nodded his head in silent acquiescence and said, “I guess that’s why Cloud 9 at Hotel Centre Point now has a liquor license, even though they were shut down initially.”
“Bingo, see… tell me what exactly has changed between when they were shut down and now? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. They are still in the same location, still next to a school and a religious institution. So, how did they get their license back? Greasing the palms? Maybe? Maybe, behind closed doors, the rules have silently been revised by the excise department, without anybody being even aware of it. Or, maybe, they got a special exemption. There are always exemptions from the rules and policies for the well-connected, you know.”
The reality of being a “nobody” finally dawned on my alter ego, and, it seemed, the epiphany crushed him mentally, emotionally and physically.
As I slowly walked away towards my room, I could hear my alter ego mumble to himself—“we are just puppets, dancing to the tunes of the puppet Masters.”
“Ain’t that the truth, my friend, ain’t that the truth,” I mumbled to myself, as I slowly closed the door behind me.