The buck stops here, said a small plaque that stood on President Roosevelt’s table in the Oval Office: though I have pretensions to being to his eminence, after I took office as Dean, I many times scratch my head for the final decisions, even for vexing issues, that have to be taken at my desk – and by me. Today, I had to take one, a fairly unpleasant one at that, yet despite the peeve and grouse it may have caused to one or more, I come back home with a clear conscience and a light heart.

Trivial – petty issues, often require much mind churning and rumination –today’s was one such. You see my management, had in its grace, provided me with a swanky silver hued Ford, with a natty driver – and free gasoline to ferry me around. The ambience of the luxurious vehicle, its plush interiors, its mellow décor – the mechanical hum of engine and air-con – Aaah!!! this is nirvana.

At ten in the morning, the driver gently tiptoes into my office, bends over my teakwood gloss table-top and shoves a sheet of paper. I go over its contents. Hell!!! there is something wrong here, very wrong. My eyebrows move up and forehead furrows deepen. The entries are daily records of work done – and much to my amazement and consternation, I might add, mention that each and every day of April, from the time I assumed office, the car and its driver have done much overtime duty – more than two to three hours per day. I had made it a point to relieve the driver exactly at 4.30 PM, every working day, yet this list records otherwise. A total of 120 hours of extra duty for the Dean’s official business!!!

Drat..... this isn’t right: This is a patently false claim, and the blighter has the gumption to pass it on to me for endorsement. Every extra hour of work entitles him to an allowance – and if my signature approves the claim, the fellow would find himself with a good 20% or more of bonus wages for ‘extra duties’!!!

Seeing me shake my head slowly side to side, the driver sidles up, 
But all drivers do it sir, everyone draws extra pay and allowance, and all claims are usually endorsed and approved….this isn’t unusual, this is norm

Is that so? I say, looking squarely into his face.

Well, it may be norm and usual and common…but I am different – I lay and attach much premium to honesty and transparency in my dealings. The Dean’s office cannot be party to mooching and milking the management. I will pay you this amount from my pocket, but I will not forward this claim for clearance.

So saying, I pushed the paper back. He glares at me, log and hard - and walks off, leaving his submitted claim on my table. I could make out he was upset, very upset.

The problem is deep and far wider in gamut. You see, every driver, numbering, in a pool of twenty or more in the campus – applies the same modus operandi. This is the way they operate. Every one of them claims ludicrous amounts for overtime duty, and as routine, every claim is stamped as genuine and settled. I wrote a line or two on why the claim must be rejected, before forwarding it to the Accounts Section. In my rough assessment, no smaller amount than 25 thousand rupees is being doled out by this institute for 'work' over and above their assigned hours, for which in the first place they already draw a fairly decent salary.

This afternoon, I walked back home. There was no driver, no car. I could discern whole lot of sour expression wearing drivers lounging around watching my every step. My solo walk, was in a way, a statement of a kind. I am prepared and ready to walk alone, but flexing my principles to unscrupulous audit cooking isn’t an option for me.

No doubt my stand over this seemingly trivial level of pilferage may appear out of proportion to level of criminality. Maybe I am a old school caricature of a kind, unable to move with the times and trends. Maybe my tenets reduce me to a minority of one, a laughing stock. My lonely walk home and the stares that greeted the sortie testify to that. What has become of us as a people? Why are we ready to reduce ourselves to be party to organized ‘crime’? Are ethics passé? I don’t know. 

I am confused, as I set out again in a few minutes from now, walking to the campus. There is no car or driver waiting at my gate today: Am I creating much ado over miniscule or obscure non-issues? Obviously, I do not fit into today’s scheme of things. A spoke in the wheel. A fly in the ointment. A spanner in the works.

Ours is a generation of corrupt. We have grown up seeing post-independent India run on wheels greased with slush or sop money. Nothing moves without lubrication. I have seen application for licenses or permits or certificates being filed, along, with an accompanying envelope filled with currency notes as a mandatory appendage. I am sick of it all. How long can I last in this island of isolation? How long can I retain my sanity? 

Yet, I see a glimmer at the end of the tunnel. Honesty pays, in the log run. Cheaters never prosper, is a school level adage I long remember – and truth always triumphs is the legend incorporated as our national slogan – an eternally valid truism that dates back from the days of Ashoka. It essence is eternal.

Note: 
As I wind up this dirge and lament, I see a silver Ford ease in into my drive. Behind the wheel is an old man, a veteran driver. He’s been in service for decades. Hence on, he says, clasping his palms in front of his chest, I will drive you saar. I have heard of him. A driver, recalled from retirement. He drove Justice K. S. Hegde’s car, someone mentioned to me once. 
And who is Justice K. S. Hegde? He was the founder of this institute. He was the Supreme Court judge who resigned on principles, during Indira Gandhi’s time, protesting against politics of convenience in the appointment of the Chief Justice. His resignation, in a way led to the dark era, the Emergency. A few years later, Indira was ousted. Democracy re-asserted its values. The constitution re-established its supremacy – and Justice K.S. Hegde was elected the Speaker of India’s Parliament, the Lok Sabha of the first non-congress government of India. 
His steadfast adherence to conscience and  principles are recalled by jurists and parliamentarians.... with awe and reverance, even today. Though no more, Justice K S Hegde's legacy lives on...one in the form of the aged driver, now steering my vehicle.

Satyamyeva jayathe.