ELECTRIC POWER THEFT IN J&K

                                         

THE HEATER IN THE KITCHEN : A True Story of Secularism Baichara and Applied Electrical Engineering

There was a time in Jammu and Kashmir when electricity was not a commodity to be purchased. It was a philosophy to be experienced. It was not measured in kilowatts. It was measured in faith. And like all great faiths it united people across divides.

The news item that appeared in Greater Kashmir on December ninth two thousand and twenty three tells us that the Kashmir Power Distribution Corporation Limited has launched an extensive campaign to combat power theft. Day and night inspections are being conducted. Videos are being shared on X. In one viral video from Chanapora a consumer is seen using underground wiring to siphon off electricity. In another report a shop in downtown Srinagar with a sanctioned load of three kilowatts was found using more than ten kilowatts.

For a new generation this is shocking. For my generation this is nostalgia.

For decades till the nineteen eighties and even later power theft in Kashmir was not a crime. It was a culture. It was a community service. It was dare I say the most successful experiment in secularism ever conducted in the valley.

THE MORNING RITUAL AT FOUR AM

No person who has lived in the erstwhile state can claim that he does not know what a kitchen heater is. It was not an appliance. It was a member of the family. It lived in the kitchen usually fitted lovingly inside the traditional hearth the daan or chulha made of clay and soot and memories.

And we did not get up at seven. We got up at four. In the dark and biting cold of a Kashmiri winter four am was the time when the honest and the dishonest both woke up with the same purpose.

The entire mohalla would wake up to the same sound. Not the Azan not the temple bell but the faint hum of a hundred heaters switching on simultaneously. Water for washing and bathing was to be heated. Rice was to be cooked. And more importantly the hardest Rajma that had refused to soften despite hours of boiling was to be finally taught a lesson. So at 4 a.m. while the rest of India was asleep Kashmir was awake watching Rajma boil.

The heater was sold everywhere. Electric shops sold it. Grocery shops sold it. Even the shop that sold stationery ,sold replacement coils. When a coil broke and it broke often our womenfolk did not call an electrician. They repaired it themselves. With a pair of tongs a little skill and a lot of confidence they would join the broken ends of the nichrome wire and bring it back to life. From broken pieces , ingenious Kashmiris made boilers. From dead heaters they made new heaters. It was recycling before recycling became fashionable. It was Make in Kashmir before Make in India was even imagined.

The result of all these heaters switching on at four am was predictable. The voltage would drop to a level where a hundred watt bulb glowed like a dying ember with a deep sense of resignation. Nobody complained. We understood. This was collective responsibility. If everyone steals together no one is guilty. That was our social contract.

THE DEPARTMENT OF GENEROSITY

This great movement could not have succeeded without the full cooperation of the Electricity Department now known as the Power Development Department. Three categories of officials formed the holy trinity of our secular power grid.

First the Lineman. He was not a lineman. He was a statesman. He was a counsellor. He was the keeper of our secrets. For a modest monthly consideration he would make your meter dead. Not slow. Dead. Completely dead. The disc would stop rotating. Time would stop. And you could run two heaters a boiler and still pay for a single bulb. If you were anxious he would reassure you in that immortal Kashmiri phrase, Ma he gham ba chhus na' which translated means do not worry at all I am there.

He was a man of honour. If there was to be an inspection by some enthusiastic officer , the lineman would inform you in advance. You would then hide the heater cover the chulha with a lid and assume the expression of a person who has never seen electricity in his life. You would say heater what heater we only use wood.

Second the Meter Reader. He was an artist. He would look at your meter which showed three hundred units write down eighty in his book look at your face assess your capacity to pay and then write down another figure in his heart. A brief exchange of pleasantries and a small token of appreciation would ensure that your bill remained within the limits of your spirituality.

Third the Clerk at the revenue counter. He was the most secular of them all. He practised Baichara in its purest form. Whether you were Hindu or Muslim whether you came from Habba Kadal or from Rainawari whether you were rich or poor he had the same rate for everyone. If you owed three hundred rupees to the department as per the ledger you paid one hundred rupees officially twenty rupees personally to him and he would write in bold letters on your receipt 'Balance Nil'. No outstanding. No dues. Full stop. That certificate was more powerful than any degree. It was a passport to another period of uninterrupted supply.

This was secularism in action. No discrimination. No communal bias. The Hindu could steal by hooking. The Muslim could steal by tampering. The Sikh could steal by bypassing. And the clerk would give them all the same Balance Nil certificate with the same smile.

THE HOOK THAT HELD US TOGETHER

The hook or kundi as we affectionately called it was the great leveller. It was a simple piece of wire thrown over the main service line. It did not ask for your religion. It did not ask for your caste. It did not ask for your political affiliation. It simply gave you power.

In some houses the meter was bypassed entirely. In some houses the meter was made to run backwards. In some houses a changeover switch was installed a sophisticated device that allowed you to switch from honest supply to dishonest supply within a second if you heard the sound of an official vehicle.

During inspection if at all it happened the lineman would take the inspecting officer to the house of that one unfortunate consumer who had not paid the monthly retainer. The officer would find a flagrant case of theft impose a fine the consumer would pay the fine plus the pending retainer to the lineman and harmony would be restored. The officer would go back to his office feeling he had done his duty. The lineman would go back to his area feeling he had maintained order. And the consumer would go back to his heater in the kitchen.

This was not corruption. This was management. This was a perfect public private partnership before the term was invented.

THE MAN WHO PAID REGULARLY

I must tell you of a scene I once witnessed inside the court premises in Srinagar. It has stayed with me for more than 40 years.

A poor man had been booked by a senior team for power theft. The team had come from outside the circle. They had not taken the local lineman into confidence. They had caught the man red handed and confiscated his heater. The heater was produced in the court as case property. A rusted coil still inside a dented tin body. The pride of his kitchen.

The magistrate looked at the man and asked him two questions. "Why do you steal power. Why do you not pay tariff regularly".

To the first part the man remained silent. To the second part he replied with complete sincerity and even some hurt in his voice. He said," Jenab I paid every month to the line man".

He repeated it slowly as if the court had not understood. "Jenab I paid every month to the line man. Every month without break I have paid to lineman or the meter reader. Even when the hook slips out from the power lines I pay to lineman five or ten rupees to put it back. How can it be that I will not pay. Jenab I cleared all balance due to lineman yesterday before coming here. ".

For him paying the tariff did not mean paying the department. Paying meant paying the lineman. In his moral universe he was not a defaulter. He was a fully paid and compliant consumer. He had never missed a payment. Only the recipient was different.

The magistrate smiled. The man was fined .

WHY WE BELIEVED IT WAS FREE

Kashmiris were not dishonest people. They were idealistic people. Kashmiris  genuinely believed that electricity should be free since Article 370 envisioned it as a concession for ILHAAQ ( accession to Indian Union ) .There was another reason . Because it came from water. And water came from the Jhelum and the Chenab. And those rivers flowed through our land. And the land belonged to us. Therefore the electricity belonged to us. 

" Jis Kashmir ko khoon se seencha vo Kashmir hamaara hai"

It was simple logic. If you have a river in your courtyard why should you pay for its water when it is turned into light.

The rest of India paid for what it consumed. We consumed what we felt was already ours. We were not stealing. We were merely collecting our ancestral property in the form of electrons.

And so from Khanabal to Khadanyar ,the heaters glowed at four in the morning. The coils shone like small suns inside our clay hearths. The air smelled faintly of burning dust . And the meter that innocent little box on the wall stood still in silent meditation.

THE END OF AN ERA

Now that story is over. Almost. Today most areas have smart electronic meters. These meters are heartless devices. They do not understand Kashmiri hospitality. They do not accept twenty rupees. They are connected to a central grid through a communication network. They report your consumption every fifteen minutes to a server. They cannot be made dead. They cannot be made slow. They have no soul.

People have adjusted. They now pay through the Sahuliyat application or at the designated Jammu and Kashmir Bank branch. They grumble but they pay. They have learned that if you use ten kilowatts you must pay for ten kilowatts. It is a painful lesson in capitalism.

But in some pockets of Srinagar and Jammu the old spirit refuses to die. There are still unmetered areas. There are still houses with Kundi connections. 

                                         

(Representational picture of Power Theft)

 When we talk of Kashmiriyat and secularism and Baichara today we often talk in abstract terms. We talk of shrines and saints and shared culture. But for a generation secularism had a very concrete and visible form. It was a heater in the kitchen.

Power theft was perhaps the only activity in which Kashmir was truly self reliant truly secular and truly united. People of all divides joined together with one mission. Steal Power. And they succeeded.

Now when the smart meter blinks green or red in your veranda remember that blinking light is not just counting units. It is bidding farewell to an era when stealing power was not a crime but a collective cultural performance practised at four in the morning with great skill great camaraderie.

(Avtar Mota)

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