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Journalism of Courage
Last month, for the first time in fifteen years, the residents of the building in which I live decided they needed a watchman. There was reason for their sudden concern which went beyond the recent spate of murders in the city. There had been a minor burglary on the ground floor and a woman’s handbag had been snatched in broad daylight. Circumstances that seemed to require urgent attention. Accordingly, a decision was taken and I went off to check out a local security agency.The agency was a small two-room affair in a narrow crowded bazar lane. A few staffers in off-duty clothes hung around outside. The owner was out but I was ushered in to meet his associate, a stiff-backed, mustachioed ex army man. He was pleased to welcome me and immediately reeled off the names of a few clients. “You don’t know? Famous society in Chembur? Vacant plot in Goregaon? Big construction site in Bandra?” I didn’t. And ours was a small order but he was happy to oblige.
I sat and talked to him for a while. He told me businesswas booming. I didn’t doubt that. The business of security agencies started in a minor way about twenty years ago, but just over the last twelve months there has been a profusion of uniformed men hanging around housing and office complexes, shops and banks. With their beige and brown, blue and black combinations, their braids and whistles, it is easy to mistake them for some sort of official cadre. They are not of course, though retired army men, cops and detective agencies are prominent in the business.
Well. Couldn’t say that I was pleased about the need for security arising at all. But given how things are I guess the emergence of a professional security service is a necessary evil. It certainly is a major improvement on the lone gurkha who invariably went to sleep in the night. Most agencies follow elaborate procedures including registering visitors, providing identity cards to domestic servants and so on. They even undertake surprise checks to ensure nobody sleeps on the job (one warning and then the offender gets sacked). And they keep a record of their men with addresses and photographs – all of which would come in use in case a crime was committed. I don’t know how effective all this has been. Or can be. For the fact remains that the guards are for the most part, just untrained men in smart, cheap uniforms. Moreover, crimes have been committed in housing colonies both in Mumbai and Delhi despite the presence of security guards. All told, the phenomenon is still too recent to reallyjudge.
What bothered me a great deal was the idea of hundreds of unskilled youths from small towns and villages flooding the city. God knows how many are already employed in the security business. But given the reigning paranoia more, many more are likely to come. In a way they have come to constitute a parallel police force, employed by us but with no codified standards. For example, many agencies hire out gunmen for something like Rs 8,000 a month with licenses from places like Uttar Pradesh where the rules are far more lax than they are in Maharashtra. The potential for disorder is enormous.What is even scarier is that thee young men are protecting us from people who are essentially very much like them. How will they cope – on the one hand, with their power and on the other, with the pressures and temptations of big city life? Perhaps it’s time some thought was given to this.
