This anecdote was once narrated by a Director of the Civil Services Academy, Lahore, to a batch of young CSP officers under training in the early 1960s. It was told with humour, but its lesson seems even more relevant today than it did then. One day, Maharaja Ranjeet Singh summoned his Minister of the Lands and Revenue (may have had a different nomenclature then) to the royal court. Curious about how his land revenue collection and management functioned, he asked him to explain his duties. The Minister spoke confidently about supervision and oversight, but every few sentences he referred to his subordinates. The Maharaja, with his characteristic sharpness, asked that one of them be called. Thus began a procession through the ranks - each officer, when questioned, explained that he merely reviewed or forwarded the work of his subordinates.

At last, a humble Patwari was brought before the Maharaja. "And what do you do?" asked Ranjeet Singh. "Maharaj," the Patwari replied, "I measure the lands, record the holdings, and prepare the revenue rolls. These papers then travel upward for checking and approval." The Maharaja smiled wryly, looked at the long line of officers, and said, "So, the work begins and ends with this man. The rest of you merely carry his papers up and down! Keep the Patwari - and let the others go home."

He said it with a touch of humour, but no one dared smile. Then, turning his one sharp eye toward the assembly, Ranjeet Singh added quietly, "Do not think that because I am one-eyed, I cannot see. I see everything - perhaps more clearly than you all." The court fell silent. The Maharaja's words, part jest and part judgment, carried a truth that transcended centuries: when the machinery of........

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