This has been a particularly bad year for Himachal and its embattled Chief Minister, Mr. Sukhu. He has certainly grabbed the TRPs but they are of the negative, Arnab Goswami and Navika Kumar type. Actually, the year began well, in pure eye-ball terms, with our own raging torrent, Kangana Ranaut, occupying the headlines with her sensational win in the Mandi Parliamentary seat. But the torrent soon became a rafting rapids which the BJP kayaks and jan-nayaks found impossible to navigate; she was told to shut up and the snowy peaks of the state have since been deprived of her yodelling rendition of history and politics, more's the pity.
This TRP vacuum was quickly filled, however, with what has now come to be known as the Samosa Kand, not to be confused with Mr. Amit Shah's earlier Pakora theory. It appears that the Chief Minister was presiding over an official function at the Police HQ, and some samosas (at Rs.150 per piece!) were ordered for his refreshment, but they were mistakenly delivered to his security staff: the CM didn't even get a whiff of them. An inquiry was ordered into this "anti-government" activity and some cops even suspended. The mountains are still reverberating with the peals of laughter this episode engendered, quite unfairly, in my view. Because this was a matter of serious portent. For one, the price of the samosa goes a long way to explain why the state has gone belly-up, financially. Ex Finance Secretaries who, in their times were allowed only two Parle-G biscuits, fumed that at the very least an open tender should have been placed in at least ten newspapers for the said delicacies, never mind if that cost five times what the samosa did; rules, after all, are rules! Secondly, and even more seriously, this was a security lapse- if today the CM's samosas can find their way to some hungry cops, tomorrow it may be secret files intended for "his eyes only" or even party funds for "your pockets only". How long, one may ask, can democracy survive if such things are allowed to happen?
Barely had the fragrance of the samosas dispersed when another stench enveloped the state- a Toilet Tax- confirming that the Chief Minister's advisors had really gone potty, as it were. A tax was imposed on every toilet seat, in order to flush out some more revenue from the sewer lines. As could be expected, there was an immediate uproar, with citizens pointing to the inequity of life: Mrs. Sitharaman's GST taxed everything that went in and now Mr. Sukhu was taxing everything that went out; legal experts opined that this was double taxation and therefore illegal. The government, I learn, is reconsidering the matter, but in the interim no one is holding his or her breath or, for that matter, anything else. After all, when you gotta go you gotta go.
The state had not yet plumbed the bottom, however (to continue with the toilet imagery). News emerged in September that Himachal had gone practically bankrupt when salaries and pensions were not disbursed on schedule. With an annual budget of Rs. 56000 crore and a population of only 7 million, you'd expect that the state was rolling in the gravy. After all, this translates to Rs. 80000 per Himachali, man, female and transgender-enough, surely, to keep them warm in winter and drunk throughout the year? But never put anything beyond a politician's skills-within two years the state has gone bankrupt, what with unnecessary expenditure on four lane highways, ambitious airports, a platoon of Advisors and superannuated deadwood, free (or subsidised) water, electricity, bus rides, an MSP for cow dung, and what have you. So now the state's debt has crossed Rs. 80000 crore, and there's only one solution to this crisis, in my view.
Hand it over to Mr. Adani (who is already there, making a killing out of buying apples cheaply and selling them at the price of your family jewels). The state should be declared bankrupt and brought before the NCLT under the Bankruptcy Code, with some Adani acolyte like Mahesh Jethmalani or Madhavi Buch appointed as Resolution Professional. Mr. Adani could then buy the state (when he is released on bail by the USA, that is) at the going rate of 10% of the outstanding debt, or about Rs. 8000 crore. It would be a (Monal) feather in his cap. He owns everything except a state government (de jure, I mean, not just de facto); as CEO of a state government he would acquire sovereign immunity from the charges in the USA and could cock a snook at the FBI and its Justice Department. He will, of course, have to contest elections in due course but that is easily taken care of- when the CEC, Rajeev Kumar's tenure expires in the Election Commission, Mr. Adani could reemploy him as CFO (Chief Fiddling Officer): his vast experience in such matters would ensure that Mr. Adani would win by twice the number of votes cast.
So what does this say about the Chief Minister's myriad Advisors? That is best answered by a joke which was related to me by an attractive World Bank Advisor many years ago at a dinner in Washington DC: An architect, an engineer and a UN advisor (so the joke goes) were having a drink in a bar, discussing which profession should get the credit for creating the Universe. The architect insisted that it was architects who conceived the plan, positioned the planets, stars and suns in a composite whole to ensure that they rotated around each other: they in effect brought order into the primordial Chaos. The engineer disagreed, saying that the basic structure, gravity and atmospheres of the planets were designed by engineers, which made life possible in some of them; it was engineers who gave life and meaning to this Chaos. Throughout the heated arguments, the UN advisor sat quietly, legs crossed and with a bemused smile on her lips. Finally, the other two asked her what the contribution of Advisors was. She uncrossed her legs, leaned forward slightly, and replied softly : "Who do you think created the Chaos?"
That, dear friends, may go a long way to explain why Himachal refuses to go out of the news these days, and why Mr. Sukhu could do with fewer advisors.
