I initially hoped for a top-down approach for the Zen Citizen experiment. It seemed efficient and scalable: I could scour forums for issues, questions, and confusions about current procedures, then get all necessary clarifications from 1-2 officials who genuinely wanted to make things better for the common man. We would quickly determine if revamping content (as opposed to revamping procedures, which isn’t within our influence) would help citizens access government services more conveniently and discourage bribery.

Not surprisingly, finding a contact in the upper echelons of the Revenue Department has been challenging. So it’s time for Plan B – getting credible information from the staff in the Revenue Department, followed by testing the content by walking the process with a handful of citizens. Honestly, the prospect of finding cooperative staff seemed even more far-fetched than connecting with a bureaucrat. So, I decided to start by testing the content I had put together so far.

But how do I find people to walk with? Heading to the BBMP office sounded like a plan.

I made photocopies of the ‘About Zen Citizen’ document and the re-written Khata transfer process, then set off to the nearest BBMP office. I expected to find a crowd of people, hoping the agents and staff wouldn’t notice me as I approached citizens, introduced myself, and offered help if they were there for Khata transfer. I’m not shy about approaching people, so I wasn’t too worried. At worst, I’d have to talk to dozens before finding the right audience – those needing an A Khata transfer via sale deed. Another challenge was language; I don’t speak Kannada. But none of these challenges seemed insurmountable.

To my astonishment, there was only one citizen in the office, surrounded by about a dozen staff members. I wonder why. A friend suggested it might be due to the environment of fear that BBMP staff and agents have created, where nothing seems to get done without the involvement of agents.

I stood out in this non-existent crowd, my cartoon-print saree and backpack drawing even more attention.

Many eyes were on me. I could either turn and leave or approach the staff, which I wasn’t mentally prepared for. I took a deep breath and asked the person at the first counter, a young guy in his 20s, for the Khata application. He asked for the tax receipt to determine which application I needed. I explained that I didn’t have the details with me and asked if I could get a phone number to contact the office. After a brief hesitation, he shared his mobile number. I quickly left the office, feeling a mix of relief and excitement. Had I already found the silver bullet? This guy spoke English and seemed helpful – could he be the “inside man” I needed? I tried to curb my optimism; if he was really helpful, wouldn’t he have asked me to apply online?

The next day, I texted him. I plainly told him I was reaching out about a project, not for Khata transfer. I needed some information and asked if he could kindly meet me. He asked me to send the scanned documents on WhatsApp to save me a trip, but I reiterated that I needed to meet in person to discuss things. We managed to schedule a meeting. The nervousness, anticipation, and waiting for his text all made me feel like I was asking a guy out. 😂

I’ll write more after the meeting. 🙂