Indians have a rather unhealthy love of paper work and the associated red tape. Nothing can be done without being in the right queue at the right office for at least 20 minutes. Despite several queues being labelled identical things they can be different, and how the difference is known is, at least, unknown to me. They are very much like Douglas Adams’ Vogons.
They wouldn’t even save their own grandmothers from the ravenous Bug Blatter Beast of Trall without orders signed in triplicate, sent in, sent back, queried, lost, found, subjected to public enquiry, lost again and finally buried in soft peat for three months and then finally recycled as firelighters.
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