You bet there is ‘too much democracy’ in India and don’t we love it?

In the late 1980s, while on a padyatra from Nagasaki to Hiroshima with the then Congress MP Sunil Dutt, I discovered that we were not allowed to hold an ordinary dharna anywhere in that country.

As is the wont of Gandhians, Sunil Dutt wanted to spend the better part of the days he was not walking, to sit out in parks on a maun vrat rather than lolling about in his hotel room. But permissions were not forthcoming because the Japanese did not allow any kind of activity apart from the routine and even sitting peacefully in a park would be considered as a disturbing activity.

It came as news to all the Indians in his entourage that we were seen as some kind of anarchists simply for sitting silently or for three people to walk together on the pavements – only two at a time were allowed. That is the time I first realised that India had too much democracy because, what ho, here you can squat anywhere you like, holding a placard or two, march as many together as you wish and no one will be bothered, least of all any government or authority - unless you specifically drew attention to your protest with some or the other act of violence.

But my Japan experience was not unique. A few years later while in France, my Pakistani and Nepali colleagues and I were rounded up by cops as we returned home from workplace in Paris singing Bollywood songs at the top of our voices in an impromptu Antakshari. Not allowed, said the cops after they had ascertained that the lyrics were truly harmless romantic ditties and not some coded message to incendiary terrorists.

“Why, what harm does it do to anyone if we have some fun while returning home?” we protested. It disturbs the peace, we were told and warned if we repeat that kind of act again, they might not be so understanding and slam us behind bars. That’s another time I thought India had too much democracy, because here you can sing or shout anything out on the streets, even abuse to your top leaders, and no one will give you a second thought.

My next encounter with democracy was in Germany when the interpreter driving me to my meeting with a government official sought to rush past a signal because we were running late and was flagged down by the German police. We spent the next couple of hours at some police station and while I didn't understand the rapid German they spoke, I was later told by a cop that my interpreter was being let off sooner because she had me to transport and I would be lost without her services.

There had never been any question of bribing the cops to look the other way and that is when again I thought India had too much democracy because here a hundred Rupee note would have done the trick beautifully and every one would have been happy - me, my interpreter and the cop. But Germany is quite a different place altogether and my interpreter was scared when I voiced the thought of a bribe, lest the cops hear it and slam us both behind bars. That would never have happened in India for we are universally very democratic.

Then, again, there was the time when my Sri Lankan colleague was buying cherries from a street vendor in Portugal and picked just one to taste. The next thing he knew he was sitting at a police station explaining to the local cops why he had felt the need to so openly “steal" a cherry from a poor farmer. No amount of explanation about the need to sample before buying convinced the cops and he ended up paying for the entire consignment of cherries and returning with only as much as he could carry – which was not beyond a kilo or two.

While we had a great time with the cherries, I could not help thinking I had too much democracy in my country because, of course, in India, the cherry vendor would never have objected to the sampling and indeed, would have himself offered not just one but a bunch or two as free to taste.

Soon after, however, I had to see one of my Irish friends handcuffed and taken away somewhere because he failed to have a valid ticket for travel from point to point. He had bought a ticket at the starting destination and decided to extend his journey to the termination station rather than break his journey half way as he had originally wanted to. He fully intended to pay the remainder fare at the stop but the ticket checker inside the train gave him no chance. He had committed a crime – cheating the rail authorities - he would have to undergo the prescribed punishment, they said. He was taken off the train and returned three days later after a harrowing experience.

That is when I realised India truly had too much democracy because, what the heck, a TC here would have understood and let him go with perhaps just a fine and not violated his freedom for three days.

But my most memorable experience of too much democracy in my own country was one evening in Paris when I wandered into the Bois de Boulogne which by night turned into the biggest centre of transvestite prostitution of the world. The moment those wonderful, really beautiful, specimens of men-turned-women realised I was a born woman, they screamed, shouted, harangued, scratched and drove me out of the area for violating their space.

When I complained to a cop about their violence – some of it had been physical, though not very devastating - he was unsympathetic. I had previously seen one such specimen being hauled up by a cop at a metro station and asked if they were not committing a crime. He informed me loftily, they had been violating other peoples’ space at the metro station, I was violating theirs at the Bois de Boulogne during their happy hours. So it was better I returned the next morning when they would all have gone home, if I was only interested in seeing the woods.

Reminded me of the time I travelled with five eunuchs in a six-berth Ladies compartment from Bombay to Calcutta a few years earlier. Despite my fright and complaint, the TC was unsympathetic – to me. They have paid for their tickets equally, he told me. And they have described themselves as “Shrimatis”. ‘’I cannot hurt their sentiment by shifting them out. I can find you another berth, however.” In the general compartment. With men. I chose the eunuchs for company.

But my country's eunuchs did not drive me from that compartment. They were not jealous of my gender. They sort of adopted me, ran my errands (like fetching water or food), protected me from unsavoury men in the train and safely saw me off it when we reached half way to Nagpur, my destination. They treated me like an equal and by the end of my journey, I learnt to treat them as equal citizens, too.

Yes. There is too much democracy in India.

And, you know what? I much prefer India to any other democracy in the world!