Column | R for rules

Dear readers, I just want to point out that despite writing a column that, I am reliably told, regularly reaches dozens of readers all over the world, not a single one of you invited me for food and beverages this festive season. Not for Eid or Navroz or Gudi Padwa or Cheti Chand.

How do you guys sleep at night? Sad.

No matter. It’s OK. Don’t say anything now. I don’t care. It’s too late. Let’s see what happens next year.

This week, for various reasons, I am reminded of an incident from my bachelor days in Mumbai, some 20 years ago. That was a different time. One had to pay for incoming mobile phone calls, mobile phones still had keyboards, and the hottest ecommerce company was Indian Railways.

I used to live in an apartment building in Wadala East. And the building was managed by a residents’ association that was generally benign. In the sense that they had, of course, vague but draconian laws about every single aspect of your life, and an intimidating squad of watchmen and watchwomen. But none of these rules were enforced, and the security staff was friendly and accommodating to a fault.

The “vague but draconian” bit is very important. For instance, the building had a rudimentary gym. There was a 50-50 chance that the equipment would severely diminish your lifespan. There was a four- or five-hour slot every day that was set aside for the ladies to use the gym.

However, none of the ladies ever used the gym, and so some of us gents used the time blocks for calisthenic amusements. It was not a problem. Nobody had an issue. Everyone lived happily ever after.

Then one day, after brief weightlifting, I was exiting the gym, when I was accosted by a security guard. I knew him well. And I raised my hand to convey some jaunty greeting such as “Wassup bruh” or “Dudebro, what is the goss” or some such.

He did not even smile. Instead, he said: “Sir, you are now in violation of Rule No. 13, Subsection 24 of the Residents Rules and Regulation (2002). I will now have to report you to the President for necessary action.”

I looked at him with considerable flabbergast. He saluted sharply, turned around and went away.

Two days later, a letter with a stern warning from the association office manager was slipped under my door. With a request to visit his office at the earliest convenience.

The office manager ushered me inside and carefully closed the door to his office. He made sure no one was eavesdropping through the windows. And then proceeded to apologise.

“Sorry, sir,” he said. “The association has just elected a new president. We are all trying to impress him, you see.”

Readers, turns out that the office staff and the security staff were all desperate to impress the new president. And decided that the best way to do this was to enforce all the association rules with martinet vigour.

Which was fine. I mean, rules are rules, right. So this was how it was going to be?

The office manager chuckled discretely. “No no, sir. This is just for 2-3 weeks. Once he is happy with our loyalty, we will stop enforcing all these rules. Once in a while, we will enforce it against his enemies.”

“He has enemies?”

“Yes. Mr. Prem in Flat 401, Mrs. Patel in Flat 1303 and Mr. Daftary in Flat 906 are all his enemies. So we might have to enforce rules. But don’t worry. It will only be for them.”

I thanked him for this insight.

But years later, as I watch the news, I realise that this is a pan-Indian, if not pan-global tendency. Where the rule is real, the law exists, but the legal enthusiasm is selective. And the enforcement is a love letter from the enforcer to the monarch.

And yet, dear reader, the English language does not have a word for this pestilence. We have words for corruption, for nepotism, for red tape. But what about these maddening shenanigans where the law is weaponised not for public good but for career advancement?

Friends, the suffering ends today. Henceforth this phenomenon will be known as: lawyalty.

Example sentence: “Fifteen minutes after the new CEO took charge, in a sudden outbreak of lawyalty, the Head of Talent announced that the 45-minute lunch break rule would now be enforced without exception.”

Have you been at the receiving end of lawyalty? Send email. Your identity is safe with me.

Published – March 26, 2026 04:35 pm IST