ET Bureau'Finally,' said Asim, 'I had no choice. I could no longer live with dignity in Pakistan. So, I left.' My interlocutor, a calm, wiry man in his 40s, had emigrated to the US when his brother agreed to sponsor his green card. Starting off in California, the erstwhile bank manager relocated to Houston, procuring a car rental franchise.
It was the South Asian smile of welcome that made me join the queue that led to his counter. After formalities were completed, he escorted me to my vehicle, the unkempt appearance of which made him request an employee to have it washed again.
'If you'd like me to assign you another car...' he began.
'Not at all,' I assured him, 'I can wait for a few minutes.'
'In that case,' he responded in Hindustani, 'I shall be glad to enjoy your company.'
And so began a conversation that traversed, in defiance of the border war, the length of our disparate journeys and the breadth of common regrets.
'Many Indians would echo that sentiment,' I said, when he explained why he had chosen to leave Pakistan. 'Corruption is as much the bane of existence in India as it is elsewhere.'
'Yes,' he admitted, 'But in different ways. In India, corruption is widespread, but a matter of choice. Pakistan is less tolerant of personal preference.' In Pakistan, he explained, there were, relative to India, far greater numbers below, and above, the poverty line that suffered every form of privation, including mercilessly rationed access to the most basic public utilities, when these were not made more painfully conspicuous by their absence.
And yet, he continued, there was, proportionately, far less petty crime than in India. This was not from fear of punishment, or force of scruple. Rather, it was because corruption had reached such economic significance that it had become the exclusive preserve of an elite, for whom any broad-based financial inclusion and resource-sharing would mean self-deprivation.
'You can't even steal rotting food,' he concluded, 'unless you have been permitted to do so by the army, politicians, police, or judiciary. And even then, you will need to pay for it.'
If this was true, people were certainly better off in India, where corruption is, at least, as inclusive as it was pervasive. Thus, while many personal and dynastic fortunes had been made through questionable means during both command and liberalised economy eras, storied captains of industry and driven entrepreneurs - to say nothing of the three pillars of government - continue to show a profligate magnanimity to the less fortunate in matters as diverse as business, public administration, and the elections.
Burgeoning corruption in India, I reasoned, lubricates India's development objectives, which are open to all but the most stubborn and sanctimonious. So, when qualified resources quit India for fairer climes, they do so from a wilful and unreasonable unwillingness to conform. By comparison, Pakistanis enjoyed no such privilege.
I had just begun to nod with a sense of gratitude when another renter, of older American lineage, walked by. He was looking at his device and uttering copulatory epithets of a maternal nature. Asim hurried over. 'May I be of assistance?'
The suggestion was dismissed with a smile. 'Not unless you can help us to deal with this...' he continued, referring to the premier of the land by way of anal synecdoche - because that worthy's latest misdemeanour had been to move his office, and the attorney-general's, to accept a luxury aeroplane from Qatar as a gift on his behalf.
Here, then, was the third degree of corruption, neither exclusive nor inclusive. Only shamelessly brazen and uselessly accretive.
But the rest of America, residents and visitors alike, can still enjoy - two billboards reminded me as I exited the airport - entry to a gentleman's club for $10, and 15 minutes with a machine gun at a shooting range for $30.
It was the South Asian smile of welcome that made me join the queue that led to his counter. After formalities were completed, he escorted me to my vehicle, the unkempt appearance of which made him request an employee to have it washed again.
'If you'd like me to assign you another car...' he began.
'Not at all,' I assured him, 'I can wait for a few minutes.'
'In that case,' he responded in Hindustani, 'I shall be glad to enjoy your company.'
And so began a conversation that traversed, in defiance of the border war, the length of our disparate journeys and the breadth of common regrets.
'Many Indians would echo that sentiment,' I said, when he explained why he had chosen to leave Pakistan. 'Corruption is as much the bane of existence in India as it is elsewhere.'
'Yes,' he admitted, 'But in different ways. In India, corruption is widespread, but a matter of choice. Pakistan is less tolerant of personal preference.' In Pakistan, he explained, there were, relative to India, far greater numbers below, and above, the poverty line that suffered every form of privation, including mercilessly rationed access to the most basic public utilities, when these were not made more painfully conspicuous by their absence.
And yet, he continued, there was, proportionately, far less petty crime than in India. This was not from fear of punishment, or force of scruple. Rather, it was because corruption had reached such economic significance that it had become the exclusive preserve of an elite, for whom any broad-based financial inclusion and resource-sharing would mean self-deprivation.
'You can't even steal rotting food,' he concluded, 'unless you have been permitted to do so by the army, politicians, police, or judiciary. And even then, you will need to pay for it.'
If this was true, people were certainly better off in India, where corruption is, at least, as inclusive as it was pervasive. Thus, while many personal and dynastic fortunes had been made through questionable means during both command and liberalised economy eras, storied captains of industry and driven entrepreneurs - to say nothing of the three pillars of government - continue to show a profligate magnanimity to the less fortunate in matters as diverse as business, public administration, and the elections.
Burgeoning corruption in India, I reasoned, lubricates India's development objectives, which are open to all but the most stubborn and sanctimonious. So, when qualified resources quit India for fairer climes, they do so from a wilful and unreasonable unwillingness to conform. By comparison, Pakistanis enjoyed no such privilege.
I had just begun to nod with a sense of gratitude when another renter, of older American lineage, walked by. He was looking at his device and uttering copulatory epithets of a maternal nature. Asim hurried over. 'May I be of assistance?'
The suggestion was dismissed with a smile. 'Not unless you can help us to deal with this...' he continued, referring to the premier of the land by way of anal synecdoche - because that worthy's latest misdemeanour had been to move his office, and the attorney-general's, to accept a luxury aeroplane from Qatar as a gift on his behalf.
Here, then, was the third degree of corruption, neither exclusive nor inclusive. Only shamelessly brazen and uselessly accretive.
But the rest of America, residents and visitors alike, can still enjoy - two billboards reminded me as I exited the airport - entry to a gentleman's club for $10, and 15 minutes with a machine gun at a shooting range for $30.
