But a very famous dentist of Bombay, when invited by the Nizam of Hyderabad to his capital city of Hyderabad to check the "royal" teeth fared better. The Nizam gave the dentist his own railway saloon to come to Hyderabad, so that all the intricate equipment could be brought and on the appointed day met him in the palace. One look at the Nizam’s mouth and the dentist told him that at least three of the teeth would have to come out. "Will it hurt?" queried the royal patient. "No.. With local anaesthetics I would ensure that your Highness would not suffer", answered the doctor.

The Nizam looked hesitantly at him and called one young courtier to come near and told the dentist, "Well I want to make sure, that it does not hurt.. Pull out one tooth of this fellow!". Lest he be suspected of disloyalty, the courtier also added his request to that of his master and entreated the dentist to go ahead. But the dentist, true to his professional ethics, was shocked. He bowed before the Nizam and told him "Your Highness, this is not the way I want to make money. Let me go back to Bombay", and left the place.

A 150 years ago, the traditional Prime Minister of Nepal, known as Maharaja Jang Bahadur Rana (1817-1877) wielded power in Nepal and in 1850 visited Britain. As he was a greatly respected ally, the British gave him a red-carpet treatment and the Maharaja travelled the length and breadth of Albion. Hearing of his fame as an Oriental potentate, many merchants and jewellers tried to trick him by overcharging him. But one of them met his match in the potentate, when he brought his valuables to sell to him. When he quoted the price, even the Maharaja winced and told him that it was too high. Nevertheless the trader struck to his prices. Finally, the visitor told him that with each rise in price he would lower it. Then the game went on like this. The tradesman would quote one thousand pounds for a bauble and the Maharaja would say one hundred. At the end of the bargaining session the buyer had offered just 10 per cent of the prices quoted and the seller told him in a huff. "Your Highness! I do not think I can sell anything to you and a make a profit". The Maharaja looked at him darkly and told him, "Then leave my presence and do not come back!". The shocked merchandiser pleaded with the Maharaja and sold some of his items for a much lower price.

Another Indian ruler, some say the Nizam Mahboob Ali Khan of Hyderabad (1869-1911), was inspecting some drought-stricken districts of his state, when the people appealed to him to waive the taxes, as they had no money to pay. The potentate called the district executives and asked them to tell him, before the end of the tour, the Abkari tax (alcoholic beverage tax) receipts till date for that district that year and the corresponding income the previous year. The officials checked and told him that the income from liquor sales was more for the current year. The Nizam turned around to the supplicant and sternly told them, "If you can afford to drink more liquor this year, you can afford to pay the taxes also".

The Maharaja of Patiala, on a visit to Calcutta in early 1900s, went window shopping to Whiteaway Laidlaws, the most famous British department store in India, wearing simple Indian clothes. It was natural that he was not recognised and was treated with scant respect by the British shop assistants. Going into the chandelier section, His Highness was struck by the beauty of a particular item and asked its price. The Britisher looked at the not-so-well-clad Indian and just did not answer. Two more requests by the Maharaja produced the same result. Thus offended, the Maharaja of Patiala went to the general manager of Whiteaway Laidlaws and revealed his identity. Once satisfied that this was the real Maharaja, the Englishman was all respectful and asked His Highness as to what he wanted. "I want to buy your complete chandelier collection", said the Indian ruler and offered a price that would have made it worthwhile for the firm. The manager agreed. "But then there is one condition", added the Maharaja, "before I pay the money you will have to sack the shop assistant who insulted me. Otherwise the deal is off". Reluctantly, the official did just that and the shocked shop assistant left his job before the Maharaja paid the price for all the chandeliers in the shop.

Perhaps the best example of despotism being exercised for common good was given by the Maharaja of Gwalior H.H. Madhav Rao Scindia (1879-1925). Even today, the Government of India is not able to prevent the occurrence of dacoity in Madhya Pradesh. In late 1890s Scindia found that his border districts with Madhya Pradesh were full of dacoits. He summoned all the headmen of the villages in the affected districts and told them, "If you have to fear anybody, it has to be me and not the criminals! Even today, if any village in Gwalior state harbours, welcomes or allows any dacoit to stay there, the entire village will be razed to the ground, the inhabitants driven out and the village agricultural lands sprinkled with chemicals and ploughed, so that for at least seven years nothing will grow on it". He had this warning given to every border village by tandoras (tom-toms). A few weeks later, Scindia received the information that a certain village had allowed dacoits to stay in it. He carried out the punishment in full measure. Next time the dacoits tried to enter another Gwalior village, all the villagers rushed out, and told them "You have to kill all of us before you enter. For, if we do not fight you, our Maharaja would lay waste all our land and destroy our houses. We prefer dying, fighting you". The shocked dacoits stayed away and it is stated that no criminal gang entered Gwailor territories as long H.H. Madhav Rao Scindia ruled it.