Hassles of Owning a car in Kerala

We were to get a new Tata Nano which we’d booked right after the launch ceremony. Since we weren’t included in the first list of ‘allotees’, we had to wait for more than a year to get our car. Having initially booked a ‘Champagne Gold BSIII’ model, we later changed it to Yellow color after my brother said he preferred that color. There were hassles in getting the color changed, but after a couple of complaints with the Corporate Head of Tata Motors and the Head of Tata Nano, we got the color reallocated. Then followed problems with getting the car delivered from Kulathunkal Motors after registration.

For registration, we had to submit a proof of address and identity. I’d initially submitted my mother’s passport, since the car was supposed to be for her. The application for registration was rejected on the basis that the passport had expired a year ago. Logic doesn't work with the Motor Vehicles Department. Does expiry of a passport mean change of address? A passport’s validity is for a period of 10 years. What if we’d moved right after renewal of a passport?
I phoned up the Motor Vehicles Department (hereafter known as MVD). They told me that they could accept only the Electoral Card, Passport or the address proof issued by the Village Officer. The electoral card was issued more than 10 years ago when our house was still in a ‘village’ (technically a village. Come on, if the heart of Trivandrum city is a village, what do you call a real village?), and hence the address read as “Vettathu, 351, Ulloor” while our ‘real’ address should also include our lane’s name and locality (Pongummood). Anticipating problems with the MVD, I set out to the village office to get a certificate from them. They wanted the tax receipt issued by the Corporation before they issued the certificate.
My father had last paid tax for the house three years ago. He didn't pay after that because when he approached the Village Office for payment of tax, they told him to get the new revenue number from another office, Government Offices which employ staff who either sleep throughout the day at their desks or are vacant from their desks (for tea, lunch, games, or picking up their wards from schools amongst other family matters) seem to fail to understand the fact that the general public are also busy with their own personal affairs. Since I didn't have the tax receipt, I told the Village Officer that I hadn't brought it with me. He told me to come with the receipt on another day. I told him that I was a Doctor working in Health Services and that I’d have to waste another day of leave if I had to come again. That seemed to do the trick.
Note: If you want to have something done at a government office, you need to do one of the following:

1. Try to do it in the normal way-waiting long queues
2. Approach a clerk or officer, and explain your official title and position (if you’re employed in one of the State or Central Government departments). As for myself I failed to mention a subtle nuance that though I’m employed (temporarily) as a State Medical Officer, I’m working on Compulsory Rural Service. Why should I? He doesn’t need to know what he doesn't have to know! :)
3. Make one of your top government contacts call up the officer at the desk. These contacts may range from a retired officer of the same department to a senior officer at the Secretariat, to a Minister.
4. Discreetly talk to one of the guards or peons at the department and ask them who to bribe. Note: I have never and refuse to ever try this method.
5. If you have time to spare (30 plus days), submit your application, get the file number, and file a Right to Information application the same day asking for information on the status of the file. Technically they may still refuse the file, in which case you may have to resubmit the application with the information sought for. But in case you’re sure that your application is correct in all details, this will work.

I got the required certificate and visited the Tata Motors dealership at Kulathunkal Motors. There, I talked to Azad Harry Pothen, one of the Managing Partners (owners), who called up the RTO (big private firms often are on first name basis with big government officials. The reason must be obvious to you). The RTO told him that the certificate I’d submitted was not enough. Following Mr Pothen’s persistence, he agreed to accept the certificate.
Next day, the application was again rejected! They were now asking for the Election ID or Passport. The Passport had expired and the Election ID technically did not have the address recorded as we’d submitted in the form. 90% of the Indian population doesn’t have a passport. Does that mean they can’t buy a car if their Election ID details have issues? There are other identification documents accepted by the Government for other purposes, like Ration card, Driving License, PAN Card. Apparently the MVD does not accept any of these. Maybe they think the departments which issued these are as corrupt as them!
As of now, the car registration is still pending before the MVD. Since I’ve paid the registration fees to Tata Motors, I refused to pursue the matter personally and told Kulathunkal they had to do it. Even after Sixty three years of Independence, government departments are still as corrupt and inept as ever. The situation demands a radical solution. But forums like the Right to Information Act, and the Consumer Protection Forum are shod in legal technicalities. The State Information Commission recently posted a politician Sony.B.Thengamam as State Information Commissioner in blatant violation of the RTI Act. If there is no constitutional provision to see that even a Ministry violates the law, the fact that the situation at the MVD isn’t different isn’t strange.
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To cast away prosperity for silent honor?

When we finish school, there are a lot of career options. Many would have decided on a career choice in lower classes itself. There is the ubiquitous choice of trying to be a doctor or engineer, there are lesser trodden paths of lawyers, journalists, and various others. But what is the thought that runs through our minds when we choose a career. Needless to say, for most of us, it is a desire to earn money, a good social standing and have social security, a.k.a get ‘settled’ in life. But who chooses one of the finest professions, and decides to change lives and save the lives of people  hitherto uncared for, even at the cost of social isolation and no monetary remuneration? Some people do. We know people do because we know them by revered names or call them saints.

The story of the doctor couple Regi George and Lalitha has been acclaimed in many newspapers and magazines in India. I came to read of the story in a recent edition of the India Today and was moved. The story is that the couple sought out one of the poorest and backward tribal areas of Tamil Nadu searching for the place with the worst health statistics and transformed the population and healthcare over the years. They looked after the isolated and forsaken tribal people who had no access to modern healthcare and were at the mercy of ritualism, black magic and quacks, and cared for them by practicing Modern Medicine there.

They had to establish a hospital, and live with minimal resources. Initially they had to deal with the mistrust the tribal people had towards outsiders too. But as they saved lives, word spread and now their hospital has a heavy OP and attends to most of the labor cases. Infant mortality scales have been radically changed, and today Healthcare in the tribal village of Sittilingi, in Dharmapuri district of Tamil Nadu is on par with the rest of the developed world.

It is not often that one can take such a big decision in life, forego a prosperous life in favor of a life wrought with hardships just for the sake of caring for people. What makes them different? What makes them decide to sacrifice their lives for others? What makes these normal people from ordinary circumstances godly? One decision to live a life of humility and service? How many have the courage and nobility to take that decision?

You can read about some of the stories reported about Regi and Lalitha here (Courtesy: Ashok’s Blog) :

• The Outlook (“The Druids Of A Lost Tribe”)
• Open Magazine (“Doctors on Call”)
• Livemint.com (“Providing low-cost healthcare to villages”)

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Two Off days

Though I had two days off from work, I couldn’t really read up as much as I wanted. Time seems too short nowadays. There was a time when I could just sit and read as much as I wanted. But now, with daily work, there seems to be a lot of distractions. Even days without work seem to flash past like those momentary scenes from a moving train.

I had a terrible experience with Kulathunkal Motors in Trivandrum, one of the two dealers of Tata Nano in Trivandrum. They had initially promised to give us the vehicle of our chosen color. But following full payment, they tried to cheat us into accepting the car they had in stock. It took a complaint to the Head of Nano Group and the Corporate Head of Tata Motors to solve the issue. Sales representatives over there seem to be of the opinion that the customer is supposed to be trodden upon. When talks with the rep failed, I asked to talk to the Manager. He wouldn’t give me the number.In addition, he tried to persuade me to accept that I was being difficult. Unfortunately for him, I record all transactional phone calls. One of the advantages of a smartphone is that one can record every phone call received without any hint of tracing.

This also saved me a lot of money and a possible swindle by Speed Medical Institute in Chennai (Refer my previous post). Before joining their residential course we’d enquired about every detail of their institute. What they’d told us were blatant lies. On reaching there, we were accommodated into a partially renovated godown of a Cotton mill! They wouldn’t refunded the money until I showed them the recording of their previous promises and the photos of their present accommodation.

Of course you could argue that I was being paranoid. And I may contest the argument by saying that I’ve got a great intuition, and did definitely have an inkling that something of this sort might happen. Anyway a stitch in time saves nine. Not a very apt proverb, yet I can’t think of any other! ;)

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The Memory lost forever

Remember my older posts when whatever I wrote seemed to be speculative? Oh well, speculation happens when I’m moved by something. And since I’ve generally been busy living the life dictated by the odd turn of turns which saw me become a doctor (Sometimes I really wonder when I really decided I wanted to be one), I have had only few such events which have made me record such events for posterity. No, don’t get me wrong. I’ve had detailed diary entries for each year since my second standard, when my Father bought me my first diary. Ah I remember it so well. At those times, money had so much value. The diary itself cost Rs 25 (a huge amount in my memory, my father having taught me the value of money from my early childhood days itself) and was printed by Malayala Manorama. The early entries of course went like, “Today I woke up at 5 a.m. Amma made me coffee..”.. lol..
But as years passed, I began to spend time pouring my mind and soul into it. Diaries are excellent for introspection. And whatever you think, blogs don’t even come close. You don’t share secrets through blogs. Whatever you may feel while reading them, blogs are exactly what the author wants you to read. Just like novels. So, of course blogs are fake, and feigned. Anyway, my diaries have dealt with everything from Birthday presents, imagined breakups, death of pets to favorite books, school assembly speeches to farewell parties, entrance exams and failures.
Sometimes one must re-read diaries. There may be people who do that often. I don’t. I don’t know why, but once I archive a diary, the next time I see it is in years! But re-reading diaries broadens ones perspective. It is interesting how over the years ones likes and cravings change. The one thing you wished for years ago seems so small now. And the colors and sounds which you seemed to wallow in seems lost to you now. People speak of a child’s innocence. What’s it? A lack of knowledge about the world? Nope. It’s ones imagination. Remember the time when the world was huge. When from the time one walked to the school bus stop, got onto it, chatted with friends, fought with each other, played on the ground or park (the park itself seemed so huge). I remember each tree in my school, and the hollows in some filled with mud. I remember playing with tents made with friends. I remember…
This is my turn at nostalgia. I don’t feel nostalgia for my school. Not the school per se. I’m nostalgic about those memories, melancholic about not being able to see those friends as much as I want. Indeed I’m nostalgic of my childhood! Ever wonder how much imagination one had then? Ever remember how one would believe anything? How ghosts and demons were real? And how worldly cravings seemed so huge then but seems so limited now?
I remember living through Enid Blyton and Fairy Tales. I remember all those wonderful creatures that existed ‘then’. I remember of learning of chivalry and honor through those childhood authors.
Life goes on. One day those people who seemed to be constantly around you, being the source of inspiration, and who you took so much for granted, will be no more. You will grieve, yet the moment will pass. Memories which seemed etched on diamond will fade. And yet, there will come a day when you are alone, when you lie in bed alone and your mind flutters to those distant memories. Then, right then, you will wonder how you ever you took those people for granted, how you failed to appreciate them, and failed to make them happy. Of course that day will come, and you can do nothing more then, at least no more than you can now.
For me, introspection comes uninvited. During those brief flashes of clear consciousness, you will resolve to make those people around you happy. But life is tough. And whatever you decide, until the moment of grieving, until that forlorn moment of separation, until that moment when you realize that whatever that has happened is irreversible, that the person you grieve is not going to come back, you wouldn’t have done anything for them. At least not something really worthwhile. You are so twisted into your role of living life, of building a future for yourself that you fail to see those people who mattered and still do.
But probably for some of you who are reading this, that moment probably has not yet come. There still are people who long for your care and love. They may be friends, family, partner, teacher or other acquaintances. Have you really given them what they really deserve? I’m not talking about charity.. I’m asking you if you’ve really cared..and even if you have in your heart, have you shown them that you care? While they are still around to be made happy?

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An Ounce of Respect

Some people visit hospitals just for making trouble. There are days of rural service when one actually feels like one is doing a service. Of course, most of us Compulsory Rural Service docs feel like CRS is a necessary evil, there are those who stop it midway to pursue PG entrance preparations (I was in the set last year), but on most of the days, going to work gives me a sense of satisfaction. The Art of Healing (no pun intended) is one of the noblest, and though recent happenings and newspaper reports along with the acts of certain doctors might have reduced the respect of general public towards doctors, people still do appreciate and respect you when you cure them. More so, in the rural areas. Mine is a semi-rural (or semi-urban) area. Having worked in Nemom, an urban area, I can appreciate the sharp difference in attitude of people towards us.

Still there are people and episodes which sting, which makes you wonder why you bother to put in the extra effort to be nice. I’ve seen all sorts of doctors. I believe a majority of doctors in Government service have a languid spirit towards patients. The aim in most cases is to disperse the queue in front of the OP before the duty hours are over. I don’t claim to be special or different. I too like to be on my way when duty hours are over, still I spend time with patients and try to relieve their problems as much as possible (the aim of medicine, one comes to realize is to control symptoms and provide comfort. Cure comes second. Diagnosis a third. You think diagnosis comes before cure? Experience taught me otherwise. But that is another story!). So I felt rather affronted when a patient started speaking rudely with no provocation. He said something was wrong with his eyes. I couldn’t quite understand what he was saying. He repeated something.

In many cases, one can’t quite understand local slangs. I asked him to repeat again as I couldn’t quite follow him. He seemed to take offence at that and started verbally abusing me saying if I was incompetent to examine him, he could see another doctor. Without raising my voice, I told him that I couldn’t examine him if he couldn’t be well-mannered. I told him that as primary care physicians, I wasn’t really expected to undertake a close examination of his eyes, and could very well ‘just refer’ him to an ophthalmologist. He said he could just visit an ophthalmologist if he wanted. He wanted to know if I could treat him or not.

I don’t work well under ultimatums, and I told him that Compulsory service or not, a doctor whether a government doctor or private practitioner was entitled to refuse to see a patient if he wanted, and that he was welcome to see an Ophthalmologist. I handed him his O.P. ticket back.

Even though we’re employed in Government service compulsorily, we don’t have to condone threats from anyone. The guy was obviously the leader of some non-existent party, judging from his demeanor, and by the way he wanted to pick a fight. Doctors aren’t scum, and deserve to be treated with respect. One doesn’t walk into any other government office and misbehave with the official there. If he does, it’s bound to happen that the issue would be stretched in time, and take ages to get completed. In most government offices, you don’t see half of the staff at their desks either. We start OP punctually at 9 a.m and don’t even take a tea-break, though we’re entitled to one. So when one does his job properly, the least that is expected is to be respected for his job.

Of course this guy was an exception. Still as an old Malayalam proverb goes, “even a bite of a non-poisonous snake is enough to make one miss one’s dinner”!

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Posted via email from Joel G Mathew's Posterous Page