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Chai-pani dress code

AFTER a remunerative UN tenure, it was natural for me to join the dream of every North Indian of owning a flat in the NCR.

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Lt Gen KJ Singh (Retd)

AFTER a remunerative UN tenure, it was natural for me to join the dream of every North Indian of owning a flat in the NCR. I was lucky to get an allotment for a flat at an AWHO colony in NOIDA. The biggest challenge was to get away from my busy job in the Army HQ and chase the paperwork. Even a bigger challenge was to convince my boss, who believed that all such work should be done on weekends. It was impossible to convince him that offices also follow weekend norms. My saviour to guide me through the maze of paper work was a broker called Sharmaji. The very last challenge was to get the electric connection. I had been briefed by the broker to come in civvies and bring Rs 2,000 in an open envelope. Post de-monetisation, there is likely to be a demand for the pink one, as they say pink is the new black. Despite my reasoning that I was an Army officer and it was an AWHO flat, he maintained that these were the cover charges and had to be paid.

I opted to use my uniform and overruling the broker, decided to meet the officer concerned. On seeing me, he remarked that he respected the uniform. Sensing an opportunity, I requested him to approve my connection. He heard me and looking at Sharmaji enquired if I had been briefed about the cover charges. He explained that these were for chai-pani and cater to the entire staff, including his seniors. He added that he was a mere cog in the entire system and the charges were ‘concessional’ for uniformed personnel.

Acceptingthe inevitability of the situation, I fished out the magical envelope and offered it. He surprised me by stating that he cannot accept it from a person in uniform. This was indeed a catch-22 moment and I dreaded the very thought of another long drive and devising a new dodging tactics for my boss. Sharmaji was unruffled. Taking charge of the situation, he guided me to his office in the vicinity, where he had four freshly washed and ironed bush shirts. He asked me to shed my shirt, turban badge, belt and don a bush shirt — a chai-pani compliant dress. 

The official, while appreciating my flexibility and understanding, very gingerly pushed the envelope with a rolled newspaper into his drawer. He offered me a chair and also the magical chai while the paperwork was being done. On my long drive back, I could not help reflecting on the valuable lesson — there are no free lunches, there is no free chai either, and for chai-pani, there is a dress code. Those likely to be in a similar situation are advised to update themselves on the latest rates and modalities.

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