Conscience Keeper. Ha!

I have many friends. Some of them are journalists (like me,) professionals, businessmen, artists, writers, filmmakers, activists, fashion designers, doctors, engineers, bankers….and then there are politicians. I mention them separately, as they are a breed apart and some of my “normal” friends think they are just my professional friends (read ‘no friends’.) While I agree a few of these infamous politicians are strictly sources, there are also those who are truly those that have thought of me as a family.

One such person is Aatif (name changed for obvious reasons.) He is a corporator from a Mumbai suburb and I unashamedly announce that he is an extremely close friend of mine. I give his example because he is well that’s where the problem began.

A little backgrounder. I’ve known Aatif ever since I started my journalistic career. He is a politician and a corrupt one at that. Yes, that’s hardly a revelation. So I’ve seen him sitting with builders and making deals. He has discussed how many illegal structures he has constructed, how he was scheduled to make pots of money from the Slum rehabilitation project and how many BMC officials he has paid to fill up that nullah in his constituency. How much money he will make from those who have illegal bungalows around his area and how the new pot bellied hotel owner will pay him money to illegally extend his porch.

Aatif is a filthy corrupt politician and the term ‘corrupt politician’ is now so glamourised, that he doesn’t even feel the sting of it. So he even goes around announcing his corrupt status.

Aatif is also a nice man. Oh yes that difficult to believe after reading the above para. Before I met him, I didn’t think that niceness and corruption could co-exist. Either you are right or your are wrong. But when I sit with Aatif in office, I feel otherwise. While I see him finalise talks with corrupt builder, I also see him give away money to the woman whose husband has blown away all his salary in alcohol. While he talks to BMC officials about his illegal constructions, I also watch him order them to repair the damaged pipeline in the nearby slum. While he signs papers on slum rehabilitation I also see him send municipal doctors to the old man who is suffering from …well just old age. Aatif never stops his hands from digging into his pocket and taking out money to give to his poor voters (or non-voters.) And No….this is not a part of his job.

I say it all in contrast because I’m trying to weigh them. Aatif has never extracted money from a poor slumdweller to repair his municipal water line. It’s a strange Robin Hood phenomenon. Taking money from the rich and also helping the poor.

There is no disputing the fact that all his actions have certain negative bearings and even he knows it. But that’s how he has been brought up and that’s how he will always be. But I have also seen him daddying his young son and telling him not to lie (something that he has no right to do.) And above all this, he has been such a great friend to me. From trying to flirt with me in the beginning, to actually respecting me. I’ve found nothing but reverence from this corrupt man.

So if this friend of mine (and not just a professional friend) is in danger…..am I really so wrong in wanting to protect him?

I don’t even have words to pen down what I feel, but writing nevertheless, since it’s known to be cathartic. Conscience has been a sensitive issue for me, as I thought I guarded mine with utmost sincerity. I may have even gone a little further and tried guarding someone else’s conscience. I’ve never accepted even the smallest of gifts (whether a pen or a perfume) in return for my journalistic abilities and will continue to do so.

But what do I do if my friend, my corrupt friend is in danger of being arrested? Do tell him or keep shut and watch him go behind bars? It’s a dilemma I had never thought about, until yesterday. So in a spurt I blurted out to the boyrfriend that I would be a tell tale if I knew of anything bad that were to happen to Aatif. He now thinks I’m not worthy of being told any of his secrets or his office talks. I don’t blame him either. He is right in what he thinks.

But on second thoughts, and now that I have really thought about it….maybe and just maybe (it's hypothetical) I may not have been the tell tale in this story. I would have burned myself out, but may not have told him. But my instant reaction has caused the friction that may never ever render me worthy of absolute trust- and rightly so.

It's strange that just yesterday, I announced to all my colleagues at work that I have to do something landmark so I always remember my dream age of 25 years (That how old I’ve always wanted to be.) Little did I know that the same i.e March 21 would indeed be a landmark day in the 25th year of my life- The day I questioned my conscience and returned terribly disturbed.