How to complicate things – BTC style
By Sharan Kumar
Ah, the Bangalore Turf Club, where a simple “yes or no”
question can morph into an epic drama worthy of Shakespeare. The club’s
Managing Committee has decided that it's finally time to address those
"urgent" reforms it’s been sitting on for ages. And the main act?
Deciding whether they should obey the government’s gentle hint to
relocate the racecourse to a patch of the Kunigal Stud Farm – because, you
know, being nudged to move out a decade ago clearly wasn’t enough of a clue.
Once upon a time (well over ten years back, to be precise),
the High Court of Karnataka politely asked the BTC to pack up and leave within
six months. But BTC, the stalwart of stalling, managed to hold its ground
thanks to a Special Leave Petition wending its way through the Supreme
Court. Luck and legal gymnastics aside, the club should be lighting candles at
the altar of good fortune, as the government hasn’t exactly rushed for an early
hearing. But there’s a flashing neon sign here, folks – the writing on the wall
could not be clearer.
And for those wondering if BTC’s little game could go on
indefinitely, look no further than the Madras Race Club. When the lease
on their Ooty racecourse land expired decades ago, they, too, tried a
heroic last stand in the Supreme Court – and were promptly shown the door.
BTC’s own lease ran out eons ago, but of course, why let that pesky detail get
in the way? Despite signing on the dotted line as the “tenant” in a landlord-tenant
agreement, the BTC's legal masterminds went to court, valiantly arguing that
the land was theirs all along. After losing that argument, they now find
themselves in a predictably sticky situation, trying to spin yarns while the
government politely insists, they consider a change of scenery.
To add to BTC’s ever-lengthening list of woes, the
government recently denied them a racing license. When BTC challenged this, the
High Court responded with a clear message: issuing licenses isn’t a right; it’s
a privilege granted at the government’s discretion. Oh, and to make matters
even more amusing, the entire BTC committee was forced to resign when the
Chairman and about 90 others were charged with criminal conspiracy. But never
fear! A new, government-approved committee swooped in to save the day, gaining
the power to steer this runaway carriage straight back into the legal
labyrinth.
Now, the club has called a special EGM (Extraordinarily
Grumpy Meeting, maybe?) to sort out the relocation issue once and for all. But
instead of reading the resolution and getting on with things, self-styled
“experts” like Ashok Raghavan – a known troublemaker – have decided to turn the
whole affair into a veritable circus. Alongside his brother Aravind (who
stepped down as Chairman under, shall we say, less-than-glorious
circumstances), Ashok has been nitpicking over every single word of the
resolution, spinning out long-winded letters to prove his intellectual prowess.
Yes, nothing says “man of wisdom” quite like a verbose diatribe on phrasing.
So here we are: a club whose actual problems could be
summarized in a few bullet points is now buried under a mountain of inflated
egos and inflated words. If only these “windbags” could be harnessed as a
renewable resource – BTC could power their next racetrack with all the hot air.
The BTC Managing Committee, in an act of apparent bravery
has rolled out a few more resolutions that would make any longstanding member’s
heart skip a beat. First on the list is the idea of raising the club's staggeringly
low membership fee. Currently, members get to enjoy all the fine amenities
for a mere Rs 250 per year – that’s less than a rupee a day! Truly, it’s been
the best deal in town since free bread samples. But the committee now proposes
an eye-popping upgrade: Rs 30,000 a year. At that rate, we might see members
gasping and clutching pearls, as if someone suggested putting pineapple on
pizza.
Then, brace yourselves – they’re also talking about
expanding the membership from a cozy 350 to a staggering 12,00, with an
entrance fee of Rs 25 lakhs for each new member. For a club that’s been
notoriously exclusive, this proposal must feel like inviting everyone in the neighbourhood
over to a dinner party. And they’re even planning to create a new “Corporate
Membership” category, presumably for organizations who want to watch races
while balancing balance sheets.
But despite all this, a handful of wordsmiths within
the club have decided to focus less on the spirit of these resolutions and more
on their wording – because, naturally, it’s easier to argue over phrasing than
to actually engage with the issue. Former Chairman Ashok Raghavan and his twin,
Aravind and former Steward Shankar Balu, seem particularly keen on picking
nits, drafting marathon letters packed with enough verbiage to choke a
thesaurus. Their prose has achieved internet fame, with every comma and complaint
echoing across WhatsApp University – enlightening anyone willing (or unlucky
enough) to read through their passionate, jargon-laden rhetoric.
Meanwhile, an even more pressing concern has emerged. The
previous Chairman, now somewhat unencumbered due to a chargesheet, has
written in, deeply hurt over the new committee’s choice of promotional material
– apparently putting photos of the current members upfront in the club’s
balance sheet, while leaving the prior committee’s images somewhere in the back
pages. Tragic, really. Perhaps we could all gather for a moment of silence in
honour of these lost back-page features.
All in all, it’s a grand spectacle. The resolutions
themselves are simple enough – a plea for more financial responsibility and
membership expansion. Yet, the ‘wise’ twins would rather spin their verbal
yarns than accept the practical, albeit unglamorous, reality that the BTC has
to answer to the government for pretty much everything. Perhaps, if the verbose
objectors spent half as much time reading as they did write, we’d have
resolutions passed and much less drama on our WhatsApp feeds.
Comments
Post a Comment