Officers with a penny-pinching attitude

Maninder Singh

Among the multi-splendoured charms of those making it into the ranks of the storied services, there is one distinctive streak that is almost impossible to miss. The eclectic lot selected by the Union Public Service Commission features the occasional Scrooge-like figure, who, not unlike other Dickensian archetypes, remains recognisable in post-colonial India.

This parsimonious, penny-pinching, tight-fisted attitude of thrift is wondrous when employed in regulating expenditure from the exchequer and sometimes disastrous in matters of personal expenses.

An officer from the IAS, living alone, as many officers do for extended periods, due to various happy and unhappy reasons, had begun to develop the feeling that potatoes and onions from the kitchen had begun to disappear mysteriously. He, therefore, began to count these on a diurnal basis.

Returning from a tour once, imagine the nasty surprise of the simple-hearted officer, when the realisation began to dawn that although the number was accurate, the onions, potatoes and tomatoes seemed to have been replaced by meaner-looking and decidedly smaller specimens.

Adroitly suppressing the fury that arose in his niggardly heart, he forthwith bought a marker pen, which was used to great effect in signing the vegetables, with the officer’s splendidly corkscrewed signatures, which allowed no hope of any forgery. Furthermore, this habit came in very handy after superannuation, when officers typically begin to miss the Picasso-like flourish of their daily ritual of affixing myriads of signatures.

Watchful eyes

Officers are strict accountants of resources and assets so as to ensure that nothing worthwhile may escape their watchful eyes. Gian Singh Kahlon of the Indian Civil Service batch of 1937 was Chief Secretary of undivided Punjab. After his retirement, acquaintances and passersby often saw him at his lands and orchards in Simla, having the peaches and the apple crop counted and tabulated under his unwavering gaze. One wonders if he ever reached the stage recounted by Robert Frost in After Apple-Picking. Did the ICS officer arrive at the magical threshold where he felt, “For I have had too much/of apple-picking: I am overtired/of the great harvest I myself desired.”

Another officer from the state of Punjab was, somehow, obsessively fond of the organic produce of the garden in their sprawling official residence. Whenever this senior officer visited the Punjab Bhawan in Delhi, the head cook would be summoned and handed over unsigned pieces of ladyfingers, some potatoes, tomatoes and onions, a bowl of yellow pulses, wrapped off with some fresh wheat flour and, with luck, one or two other items. Thereafter, for the entire stay, it was left to the ingenuity of the cook to improvise all manner of toothsome meals, out of the rich store of provisions provided by the thoughtful officer. The rations having been magnanimously contributed, there was no consideration at all of the need for payment, or any acknowledgment of the cook’s time and labour.

Uncharacteristic pursuit

An officer, who was not very athletic or known for any pursuits of a physical nature, was once seen atop a majestic guava tree, plucking the unripe fruit, and merrily throwing the fruit to an admiring attendant on the ground. A neighbour and a colleague, who witnessed this individual engaged in this uncharacteristic pursuit, shouted, “Why are you plucking unripe fruit?” To which he said, “If I wait for the fruit to ripen, will the birds have the generosity to leave it for me?”

An officer who was rather fond of his single malt and soda was present at all the Bacchanalian get-togethers. Never the one to be deterred by any medical report on the damaging consequences of too strong an indulgence in strong waters, this officer was the resounding party animal, who carried on well up to dawn, as long as the liquor and the company lasted. If any of the carousing friends ever landed up at the officer’s residence, they were never served even a thimbleful of any liberating spirit of brew. The officer chose to attribute all stinginess at home to his spouse’s disposition.

Many a heaven-made marriage has foundered on the shoals of parsimony. There have been instances where officers have developed such strong faith in small savings that their spouses have been left with very little resources to run the house or indulge in other pursuits. Indeed, in some rare instances, wives of overly frugal civil servants have been known to even file for divorce.

Although the immortal powers that dictate the lives of humankind may always bless those who are generous towards their fellow beings, the little piggy-banks of officers continue to exercise an ineffable charm, for who knows what misfortunes these blessed stores of value may help avert.