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The east part of Hastings Street is considered the worst part of Vancouver, populated by those who have lost their ways in life. They are into kinds of things that the traditional society dislikes: drug addiction, prostitution, thefts. I have nothing against prostitution and drug-taking, as the worst that these people do is to abuse themselves. I wish they did not, but that is their choice. Once in a while they abuse me by stealing from me. There are worse crimes. In my opinion, the worst and most insidious one is abusing others, and doing it with a sense of pride and by disguising it as a duty. The perpetrator not only steals, but demeans and morally belittles the victims by forcing the abuse as a responsibility on them. I am elaborating on a recent experience with the “legalized” mafia, which abuses in the name of the Law, using its spineless agents with petty egos, and no accountability. I own a restaurant, which is probably the nicest retail establishment in the East Hastings part of the City – you cannot miss it if you drive by this road. In a short span of two months it has come to be seen to provide among the best Indian food in Vancouver. Normally a city would be proud of it, but not the City of Vancouver. It is not easy to be an entrepreneur. The odds are against him. When he invests money in a business, he wants to concentrate his time and effort on productive purposes. This is not what he is allowed to do. The first step is the need to go through the City’s bureaucracy. The process might look simple to a bureaucrat, but it is a maze of unknowns; and pitfalls abound for a normal person. When I took over the property, the landlord gave me three months of rent free of charge. He did not do it out of a sense of benevolence, but out of selfishness that helped both of us – he wanted to help me establish myself so that I could keep paying him. The City however, despite being a socialist (and claiming to be a welfare) institution, does not do anything similar. Even before I could rent the place, the City charged protection money (about $600 every year under the name of license fee). And I was obligated to pay property tax (about $850 every month) from the first day, each month. I do not understand the rationale behind the license fees and property tax as no one cared to tell me about it. I do not know where my money goes and what it does. But for sure a major part of this money goes to finance luxury lifestyles of the bureaucrats, and politicians who run the exploitative system at the City Hall. All this while a lot of those who finance the City - small businesses - live below starvation-line, unprotected under any kind of welfare programme. I am not asking (and will ask) for alms, but would have appreciated if the exploitation ended here. It did not. We face everyday hassles from those living on the streets trying to use our bathrooms, trying to steal cutlery, trying to get food for free, breaking our glasses at night, once in a while trying to prostitute themselves to make money. I loose a dollar here, and a dollar there. While they do all this, they make sure they intersperse their talk with “Sir”, “Please” and “Thank-you”. I was to open my restaurant at 11 am on 5 July 2005. What an exciting day! Around 10 am, when the door was locked, and a sign clearly said that we were closed, a woman, tried to enter. As it was locked she knocked the door to get my attention. I had dirty hands, but felt very excited that I had a customer even before I had started. I went to the door to tell her that we would be open from 11 am and that she should have the patience to wait just a little bit to try our food. But she had a different purpose in mind. Her actions and posture were no different from what an egotistic Queen would have. She demanded attention. She put her business card on her forehead to show what an important person she was. She insisted on entering my premises. I very respectfully told her that it was my first day, that I was very stressed and in a complete crisis; and that there was a “closed” sign, and that she should come at 11 am. But she would not listen. I asked her for the purpose of her visit. She said she wanted to check my company’s documents, and quoted some obscure by-law number to impress me. I might have recognized a Queen, and might not have needed to see her documents to verify that she was genuine. When asked for her identification documents, Lynn Urekar was horrified. After all she was an Inspector and I should have known her and even saluted her. She had no documents to prove who she was. She told me that she had forgotten her City Hall ID at her parents’ place. I normally don’t lie but in her situation, I would have at least said that I had forgotten it at my partner’s or friend’s place. Jokes apart, I think it is a sign of utter idiocy that she wanted to see my company’s ID, do it when my premises had a closed sign, and then not have her own ID. I asked her to leave. She put her leg in to obstruct me from closing my door. I told her repeatedly that there was no way I was going to let her in if I did not know who she was. So she walked away to bring her driver’s license from her car "to prove" who she was. Now what kind of logic would that be? Her driver’s license only proves that she has passed a driving test, nothing else. But, Lynn has her own system of logic, as I was to witness during the time I was forced to spend with her. The good thing is that I did not have to use physical force to throw her out. When she went to pick her driver’s license up, I locked my door again and she was on the street. As a small business, the last thing I wanted was problems with the tyrants. I had been told that no one picks up a fight with a City official - they have created a labyrinth of rules and regulations, usually unknown, to ensure that they can trap whoever they want to. So, scared as I was, I left my work and wrote the following email to the Mayor (Larry Campbell), and City Manager (Judy Rogers): Dear Sir:
Two days later this is the response I got from the City, as if I had written my complaint for the leisure reading of the City officials: Thank you for your email which has been circulated for information to the Mayor, Councillors, City Manager, General Manager of Community Services, and Chief License Inspector for a response.
People tell me that I always talk about corruption in India. And yes it is true, I have not seen as much corruption in Canada as I have in India, and this article celebrates the first corrupt public servant I have met in Canada. In my opinion Lynn Urekar is worse than those living on Hastings Street. Those on the street have some manners: when they beg they say “please”, and “thank-you”. And when they make a mistake they say “sorry”. Lynn Urekar has not done either of these so far. Lynn Urekar is my servant and she uses my money to harass me, and then thinks that she is God. If I had a choice I would have rather spent that morning of my first day at my restaurant with one of the prostitutes who walk my area rather than with Lynn. After all they are mentally and spiritually more evolved. They offer something positive (as against everything negative offered by Lynn) in return for money, a fair trade. And they do not impose their will on me. But before I end this, let this be clear that all those officers and politicians of the City of Vancouver, who have sit on my complaint since 5 July, without a response, or an action, or an attempt to investigate, are no less corrupt. They are worse than Lynn. I do not intend to pursue this matter with the City anymore as I have no respect for them, or any trust in their motives. Jayant Here is the link to the full story, about what happened later.
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