Today, I ventured to the local BBMP (Bruhat Bengaluru Mahanagara Palike) office to obtain my property tax receipt, which I had diligently paid back in June. Little did I know the bureaucratic odyssey that awaited me. The moment I set foot in the office, I was informed that this office was on the brink of closure. It’s a mystery only known to the gods why the government builds an office, operates it for a few years, and then decides to relocate.
Undeterred, I made my way to the next office in the hope of securing my receipt.
The gentleman behind the counter glanced at me without much interest and uttered, “Come Monday.”
I replied, “Sir, Monday is a holiday due to the Ganesha Festival.”
He swallowed his initial response and begrudgingly suggested, “Okay, come Tuesday.”
I persisted, “Sir, I need it today.”
Now, he finally looked up from his paperwork and conceded, “Come back in the afternoon.”
I pointed out, “Sir, it’s already afternoon; it’s 12:20 PM.”
He seemed a bit flustered and instructed me, “Okay, bring your bank statement to prove that the money has been credited, as you paid by cheque.”
I was growing a bit annoyed and retorted, “It’s been three months, and I assure you it has been debited from my account.”
With that, he took the acknowledgement slip, disappeared into a room for a mere five seconds, and then reemerged.
Not one to be kept waiting, I ventured into the same room after a brief 30-second interlude. I approached the lady at the computer and requested my receipt.
To my surprise (and relief), she promptly handed me the printouts. It turns out this process, which seemed so laborious, took no more than a minute.
I then asked for the official seal, and she gestured towards the first gentleman.
I returned with the printouts, and he obligingly signed them and affixed the round seal.
I thanked him politely and made my escape from the bureaucratic labyrinth.
In the end, the entire ordeal took no more than 10 to 15 minutes, and I counted myself fortunate that my mission was accomplished. Interestingly, the official conducted the entire conversation in Kannada, while I responded in English. It’s an undeniable truth that, no matter how much we embrace global influences with our MTV and McDonald’s, a visit to a government office in India can still be a nightmarish experience. It’s something we often postpone and procrastinate, knowing that the attitudes of those officers and clerks within remain unchanging.