In the nationwide trend of “liberating” the country from various evils, the new mission was to make India corruption-free. As cities and towns began announcing the formation of people’s Anti-Corruption Foundations, the corrupt-yet-aware citizens of our own neighborhood also decided—why not form a proper Anti-Neighborhood Corruption Cell and contribute positively to the growth of corruption?
Friends! The thrill of breaking the law under legal supervision is the same as committing corruption under the eyes of Anti-Corruption officials. To bring this positive idea to life, preparations began to form our Neighborhood Anti-Corruption Cell. Soon, every corrupt individual in the area jumped into action. Pre-election lobbying started for every position in the cell.
Inspired by the flowing wave of elections, I too decided to dive in. My clever mind started dreaming of becoming the President of the Anti-Corruption Cell.
As soon as my family found out about my corrupt intentions, they grew anxious. My son, a proud ten-time failure, tried hard to convince me:
“Dad! You can’t handle increasing corruption in the neighborhood. Take my advice—withdraw your name from the race for president. Why do you want to chop off your own feet—and ours too—with an axe?”
But even his legal warning didn’t shake my resolve. When the strongest candidate for the position, the highly respected Mr. Corrupt, heard about my candidacy, he first tried to convince me through his mediators to support him and campaign in his favor.
When I refused, he showed up one night at my house under the cover of darkness. Smiling, he said, “Sir! What’s this I’m hearing?”
“You’re hearing right, Mr. Corrupt! I’m running for the President of the Neighborhood Anti-Corruption Cell,” I said proudly, chest puffed with democratic courage.
Patting my chest gently, he said, “Be normal, sir. Whether the election is local or national, decent people aren’t cut out for this. In democracy, decent folks don’t run in elections—they fight within their own homes. Elections aren’t won by honesty, but by money. You’ve got to spend like water. In today’s system, it’s money that buys votes, not people. Understand, sir—every presidency begins with my blessing.”
“So?”
“So let’s get to the point, sir! How much will it take for you to withdraw from this election? Fifty thousand? A lakh? Fine, I’ll give you five lakhs! And I promise—any of your corrupt work will be done first and corruption-free. Deal?”
Then, patting me on the back, he left the same way he came—in the dark, confident I’d agree.