<p>“Do they belong to someone?” is one of the most common questions asked by a foreigner when he sees a cow on Indian roads for the first time. Not too sure whether it is acceptable to be exasperated at this live traffic snarl or to be respectfully accommodating of the bovines presence, one can sense a cautious restraint in the question because, after all, he has heard that in exotic India a cow represents divinity herself! <br /><br />“Who exactly is a VIP?” is another such commonly asked question. A foreign guest asked me this as we were stuck in a hopeless traffic jam and he noticed an absolutely empty adjoining lane marked ‘VIP lane.’ Once again, I could sense a similar sense of guardedness; was it acceptable to be exasperated at the invisible VIP or was it politically incorrect social conduct to ask?<br /><br />Now, it is quite commonplace to find an abundance of VIP cows and buffaloes in India that we seldom even spare a thought for them. Perhaps that is the reason we find simple questions such as these amusing and are jolted into thinking deeply about them. In my case the one concerning VIPs made a particular impression.<br /><br />On some contemplation I concluded that broadly there are four types of ‘persons’ in our country. First, there is the ‘Not (so) Important Person’ or NIP, constituting the toiling masses grateful to be classified as persons at all. Second, the adjective less ‘Person’ or P, who harbours a false sense of importance only to satisfy his tax paying middle class ego, but who in reality, is just another NIP. Next is the ‘Important Person’ or IP, at the pinnacle in his chosen field and or in possession of enormous financial muscle. And finally the ‘Very Important Person’ or VIP who has a real or perceived ability to wield influence, positive or negative, over others.<br /><br />Barring rare exceptions, a VIP is not born. Like nirvana, VIP is an achieved state. In modern times, the process of becoming a VIP has become simple compared to the classical when it was a slow process of metamorphosis. Today there are multiple routes. The aspirant can achieve that exalted VIP status through Interpol notice, criminal investigation, corporate fraud, media cultivation, marriage, sports betting, film financing, usurped real estate and other such avenues. Of course the conventional routes through legislature, executive and judiciary are also available.<br /><br />Merely becoming a VIP is not enough. Others have to know and acknowledge the VIP status. After all, what is the use of becoming a VIP if no one knows you are a VIP? Hence it is incumbent upon every VIP to learn the fine art of propagating his VIP status.<br /><br />Heralding arrival<br /><br />As a first step in this direction the VIP has to become conspicuous. For this, he adopts the generally accepted class uniform; a red light on the vehicle, siren, posse of armed guards proclaiming him to be an enemy of many, dark glasses, chunky and precious personal embellishments and spartan white clothes. This is the reason why a VIP in spite of being convinced that everyone is out to get him, to an extent that he requires armed protection, not scared of announcing his presence with red lights and sirens instead of discreetly scurrying along to his destination in disguise.<br /><br />Next, he has to learn to be a nuisance to others. For this he borrows liberally form that un-published bestseller, ‘Zen and the art of being a nuisance.’ He uses his VIP power to make systemic alterations to ensure others never forget him. He blocks traffic during chaotic rush hour, corners already in short supply railway tickets, skews in his favour the already hopeless bed to patient ratio, walks past airport security with disdain, acquires prime property at unimaginably subsidised rates and grabs the best seats at a cricket match or the republic day parade. Not only this, I am told, he even makes petty criminals in places of incarceration go green with envy by reserving a section with modern amenities for his privileged use from time to time!<br /><br />Alas, a VIP’s life is not bereft of its problems. His club is overcrowded and losing its sheen. Proliferation has resulted in diminished value and it is no longer aspirational to become a VIP. Not only that, unlike good old days, those who are supposed to be satisfied in their entomological existence have begun asking fundamental questions about the relevance of a VIP in a putatively egalitarian society.<br /><br />This has to stop. A few VIPs have taken it upon themselves to address this and restore the club to its former glory. Conventional wisdom suggests creating a superset by adding another ‘V’ and raising the bar for membership. But that would not be ingenious. Perhaps there is a need for the VIP to study his bovine counterpart. They seem to effortlessly retain their position of respect in society despite their proliferating numbers. The answer may lie in the difference between a cow or a buffalo and a VIP. The former continues to remain useful by providing milk or pulling weight and avoids excessive parasitic existence.</p>
<p>“Do they belong to someone?” is one of the most common questions asked by a foreigner when he sees a cow on Indian roads for the first time. Not too sure whether it is acceptable to be exasperated at this live traffic snarl or to be respectfully accommodating of the bovines presence, one can sense a cautious restraint in the question because, after all, he has heard that in exotic India a cow represents divinity herself! <br /><br />“Who exactly is a VIP?” is another such commonly asked question. A foreign guest asked me this as we were stuck in a hopeless traffic jam and he noticed an absolutely empty adjoining lane marked ‘VIP lane.’ Once again, I could sense a similar sense of guardedness; was it acceptable to be exasperated at the invisible VIP or was it politically incorrect social conduct to ask?<br /><br />Now, it is quite commonplace to find an abundance of VIP cows and buffaloes in India that we seldom even spare a thought for them. Perhaps that is the reason we find simple questions such as these amusing and are jolted into thinking deeply about them. In my case the one concerning VIPs made a particular impression.<br /><br />On some contemplation I concluded that broadly there are four types of ‘persons’ in our country. First, there is the ‘Not (so) Important Person’ or NIP, constituting the toiling masses grateful to be classified as persons at all. Second, the adjective less ‘Person’ or P, who harbours a false sense of importance only to satisfy his tax paying middle class ego, but who in reality, is just another NIP. Next is the ‘Important Person’ or IP, at the pinnacle in his chosen field and or in possession of enormous financial muscle. And finally the ‘Very Important Person’ or VIP who has a real or perceived ability to wield influence, positive or negative, over others.<br /><br />Barring rare exceptions, a VIP is not born. Like nirvana, VIP is an achieved state. In modern times, the process of becoming a VIP has become simple compared to the classical when it was a slow process of metamorphosis. Today there are multiple routes. The aspirant can achieve that exalted VIP status through Interpol notice, criminal investigation, corporate fraud, media cultivation, marriage, sports betting, film financing, usurped real estate and other such avenues. Of course the conventional routes through legislature, executive and judiciary are also available.<br /><br />Merely becoming a VIP is not enough. Others have to know and acknowledge the VIP status. After all, what is the use of becoming a VIP if no one knows you are a VIP? Hence it is incumbent upon every VIP to learn the fine art of propagating his VIP status.<br /><br />Heralding arrival<br /><br />As a first step in this direction the VIP has to become conspicuous. For this, he adopts the generally accepted class uniform; a red light on the vehicle, siren, posse of armed guards proclaiming him to be an enemy of many, dark glasses, chunky and precious personal embellishments and spartan white clothes. This is the reason why a VIP in spite of being convinced that everyone is out to get him, to an extent that he requires armed protection, not scared of announcing his presence with red lights and sirens instead of discreetly scurrying along to his destination in disguise.<br /><br />Next, he has to learn to be a nuisance to others. For this he borrows liberally form that un-published bestseller, ‘Zen and the art of being a nuisance.’ He uses his VIP power to make systemic alterations to ensure others never forget him. He blocks traffic during chaotic rush hour, corners already in short supply railway tickets, skews in his favour the already hopeless bed to patient ratio, walks past airport security with disdain, acquires prime property at unimaginably subsidised rates and grabs the best seats at a cricket match or the republic day parade. Not only this, I am told, he even makes petty criminals in places of incarceration go green with envy by reserving a section with modern amenities for his privileged use from time to time!<br /><br />Alas, a VIP’s life is not bereft of its problems. His club is overcrowded and losing its sheen. Proliferation has resulted in diminished value and it is no longer aspirational to become a VIP. Not only that, unlike good old days, those who are supposed to be satisfied in their entomological existence have begun asking fundamental questions about the relevance of a VIP in a putatively egalitarian society.<br /><br />This has to stop. A few VIPs have taken it upon themselves to address this and restore the club to its former glory. Conventional wisdom suggests creating a superset by adding another ‘V’ and raising the bar for membership. But that would not be ingenious. Perhaps there is a need for the VIP to study his bovine counterpart. They seem to effortlessly retain their position of respect in society despite their proliferating numbers. The answer may lie in the difference between a cow or a buffalo and a VIP. The former continues to remain useful by providing milk or pulling weight and avoids excessive parasitic existence.</p>