Where All The Deeds Are Done

My dear wife and I have been to quite a few of these offices in various cities. So, it is not as if we get surprised by what we find.  For government offices, these are pretty clean without any sign of ageing files and musty, dusty documents piled up to the rafters; and they are efficient in their own way.  With well-kept floors and decent, if not five-star working areas.That is thanks to the digitization that has prevailed for a decade or more, despite strident efforts by vested interests.  The old bandicoots would have preferred to stay with loads of paper which were shoved into bottomless, black holes, never to be retrieved in future, even when needed. That was yet another convenient avenue, the ubiquitous missing document, to make some more money on the side from the suckers that the suffering public has become!!

Notwithstanding prior visits, my dear wife nose is instinctively screwed askew, as if it is a defence mechanism against some anticipated offensive odour, even though there isn't any.  She says that it is something to do with the unctuous ambience of the place.  She is on the coin, with that adjective, 'unctuous' it is.  One feels the lurking presence of some unseen grease and oil and the consequent imaginary, accompanying smell that seems to be pervasive.  But these are all just palpable manifestations of the way transactions are put through in that slippery place -- the Registrar's or Sub-Registrar's office where all deeds are registered.

Recently a friend narrated the story of his tribulations at the aforementioned venerable office, where he had gone to register his newly established charitable trust.  This low grade transaction, simply because the stamp duty was pittance and the revenue potential was not significant enough to merit attention, took much longer than a property registration transaction, which involved crores and hefty stamp duty.  Obviously, higher the value of the deal, greater the grease money that oiled the process!!  On top of that, this `do-it-yourself ' specialist of a friend, intent to avoid paying any grease money, went without an agent bravely to negotiate the murky corridors of that office.  That was a double whammy and he had an excruciating time, jumping through umpteen hoops before a seemingly innocuous deviation in one document put paid to his heroic efforts.  Such `unprofitable' transactions are assigned the lowest priority and get queued for the last hour of the day despite the friend vehemently protesting while standing on his hind-legs. Only to be brutally rejected for the flimsiest of excuses in the climax. That he returned another day, with the same documents and an agent spearheading the deal and got the job done in half an hour is a testimony as well as tribute to the power of the grease money that flowed through the intermediary and made all the difference.  

If one goes agent-less for a registration, the first contact person in the office earnestly does all the counselling and hand-holding until one is handed over to one of the `recognized' agents in-house.  This facilitator of an agent not only examines your paper-work and fixes a comma here and a date there but also acts as a faithful conduit to the 'authorized' collector for the speed money you shell out.  This collector invariably happens to be the trustworthy henchman of the office chief and is strategically located off-site, just in case there is a raid in the office to check corruption!! He is never in the same location for more than two hours at a time and follows a strict Standard Operating Procedure.  He does not entertain anyone except known and `authorized' agents, to avoid any likely trap sadistically set by unknown individuals.  This agent-collector-office staff nexus is so powerful and efficient that it could be a Harvard case study for Super Efficient Government Offices.  If you hallucinate about the prospects of getting the job done without speed money and an agent, you should be resigned to suffering the same fate as the previously referenced friend.  Once you are identified as an agent-less orphan, while the entire staff politely smiles at you and nicely tells you to just wait, you clearly realise you are getting the short shrift.  The results generally indicate this.

The agent is very useful because he has the magic key which gives him access to all the rooms and staff members, which/who are so out of reach for you as an individual.  He is helpful in moving the papers from one stage to the next as quickly as possible and there are about eight such stages to go through. Some desks require your presence along with the agent, for showing your mug or affixing your signature; but some stages are entirely managed by the agent, without you being any wiser for what is transpiring.  Actually, your file may just be lying on one of the desks, to give you the impression that the process is that much more convoluted than you think.  This serves two purposes - ensures that you never again venture into such an exercise without an agent; it also gives you full satisfaction and value for the cash stripped off you.  In between the agent will hustle in and out few times, waving some paper vaguely in your face and this induces in your mind a illusory feeling of progress -- it may not be your file at all, for all you know. 

The real test for you begins only when you reach the penultimate stage when you are asked to sign a few hundred times and if you do not have an agent as an accomplice, you are, ab initio, presumed to be an impersonator. Until you prove them wrong with your signature absolutely matching the evidentiary document you carry.  If there is a discrepancy, you are bluntly told the deal is a no-go, you should scoot and get the signature right. But as in all matters bureaucratic, there is always an exit route -- you should just get an agent and pay the grease money. The same signature is good as gold and works like a charm. The staff actually admire you for signing so like the original, so consistently hundreds of times!! We actually saw someone whose right hand was in a sling and he was condescendingly asked to sign with the left hand and the same got accepted with appreciative nods and a bland explanation `we are seeing you in person, so this is okay'.

You start feverishly signing wherever the agent puts his index finger, sometimes on it if he does not nimbly withdraw in time.  Obviously the signature varies a lot by the time you reach the last page of the deed because you have been labouring for some time. The agent and the assigned staff member look at each other and then at you, as if you are on a ventilator struggling to breath and they have no hope. They tut-tut or ch-ch-ch according their individual preference, to indicate their displeasure.  If the deviation is more than minor, the grease money component goes up by a bit once more.  Remember, this charge is nothing but a compounding penalty for all the minor or major holes that can be punched in the entire transaction process and keeps building up from a determined base amount, all through the 3-4 hours you spend in that office.  The increase in the charge from the base is directly proportional to  all the stupid mistakes you make out of tiredness, frustration or indifference.

The final authority, the regal presence so to say, of this place is the Registrar or sub-registrar and he makes it abundantly clear that he is above all and everything, by sitting on a platform; the purpose of that edifice is not otherwise clear. May be to let him view the assemblage with eagle eyes from a vantage point? Or just to ensure that his own staff does not indulge in any hanky-panky, of course, other than what is duly authorised by him as part of SOP.  This is usually a very reticent individual, who counts the words he utters, as of he does not want to waste his edicts on common men. He invariably conducts all his interactions with the supplicants through his minions or the agent, seldom directly. Only in the final stages of the actual registration, this Supreme Leader deigns to mumble a couple of questions to the parties to the transaction.  His whole demeanour betrays a sullen distrust in the legitimacy of the seller to own the property in question or of the right of the buyer to possess the funds required for the purchase.  He seems only to be willing to condone all such shenanigans because philosophically he is above all such issues.

Then you go get your mug shot for a historical record the transaction.  A bunch of people involved in other transactions are always milling around you and the person handling the camera.  If she and you are not careful, the photo might emerge as having two heads or three faces, so it pays to be acutely aware of your position and who is around.  The camera is usually at an angle which makes you look up and the photo comes out as if you are beseeching the heavens for mercy and a swift end to this sordid affair.

The finale involves you scurrying out of that hole as if somebody has lit a live cracker on  your tail.  But you cannot get too far because the agent stops you at a discreet distance away from the pell-mell and collects his fees plus the grease/speed money.  And you are told the transaction is over. You are indeed glad it is.  My wife definitely was and said she regretted owning any property in her name.