Dr. Fiaz Maqbool Fazili
A society rarely collapses because of one grand act of corruption. More often, it decays through countless small compromises that gradually become accepted as normal. When people begin demanding “just a little chai,” “baksheesh,” or “something extra” simply for performing the duty for which they are already paid, society has crossed an invisible moral line.
In Kashmir, one expression captures this unfortunate reality: “Naaste Haara”—literally, “money for snuff.” Traditionally, it referred to a token amount casually sought by some wazas (professional cooks) during weddings and festive gatherings before serving the feast. Whether one approved of the custom or not, it was associated with celebrations.
Today, however, the phrase has travelled far beyond festive occasions. It has become a metaphor for an expanding culture of expected tips, unofficial payments and subtle coercion. What was once an occasional custom is increasingly turning into an entitlement.
A recent personal experience brought this moral decline into painful focus.Following the death of a close relative, I joined the bereaved family to offer condolences. Like many Kashmiri households during mourning, the family had engaged a waza to prepare meals for the continuous stream of visitors.Before serving the food, the cook uttered the familiar words: “Naaste Haara.”The grieving husband, still shattered by the loss of his wife, could barely contain himself.“Do you think this is my wife’s wedding?” he asked. “Have you no sense of the difference between celebration and bereavement?”
His response was not directed merely at one individual. It reflected a growing frustration with a culture that increasingly fails to distinguish between joy and sorrow, duty and favour, gratitude and entitlement.
That incident prompted me to reflect on a troubling question: Have we normalised asking for money in situations where basic decency should have restrained us?
Sadly, similar experiences have become common.Someone expects “chai money” to issue a death certificate.A delivery person asks for extra cash simply for delivering a letter.A clerk hints that paperwork could move faster with “something for tea.”
Hospital attendants, office assistants, theatre boys and service providers sometimes expect a gratuity before performing routine duties.Each demand may appear insignificant in isolation. Together, they reveal a deeper ethical crisis.
To be clear, this article is not about voluntary generosity. Across cultures, people often express appreciation through a freely offered gift or gratuity after receiving exceptional service. Such gestures, when entirely voluntary and carrying no expectation of future favour, reflect kindness and gratitude.The real concern arises when a tip ceases to be voluntary and becomes expected, subtly demanded or used to influence behaviour. At that point it is no longer appreciation; it becomes pressure.
The distinction is crucial.A worker who performs exceptionally well and receives an unsolicited token of thanks after completing the assignment stands on entirely different moral ground from one who expects, requests or withholds proper service until additional money changes hands.
Once expectation replaces gratitude, dignity begins to disappear.The consequences reach far beyond the money involved.People who pay extra expect preferential treatment.Those unable or unwilling to pay fear being ignored.
Workers begin differentiating between customers according to anticipated rewards rather than professional duty.Merit gives way to favouritism.Trust gives way to suspicion.
Gradually, corruption begins not with millions changing hands but with ordinary citizens accepting that nothing moves without “something extra.”
This culture is particularly destructive in public institutions.Government employees, hospital workers, municipal staff, revenue officials and others entrusted with public responsibilities are already compensated for their work. Citizens should never feel compelled to offer unofficial payments simply to receive services that are their legal right.
When routine duties become opportunities for personal gain, public confidence erodes.The issue is not merely legal.It is profoundly moral.
Every great civilisation rests upon trust. Citizens trust institutions to serve fairly. Patients trust healthcare workers to treat everyone equally. Students trust teachers to evaluate honestly. Consumers trust service providers to perform their duties professionally.Unofficial payments weaken every one of these relationships.
Islam addresses this ethical principle with remarkable clarity.The Prophet Muhammad (saw)strongly warned public officials against accepting gifts connected with their office. When one official returned claiming, “This is for you and this was given to me as a gift,” the Prophet (saw) responded:“Why did he not remain in the house of his father or mother and see whether gifts would come to him?”The lesson extends far beyond government service. The Prophet (saw) highlighted an enduring ethical principle: when gifts are given because of a person’s position or authority rather than genuine personal affection, they risk compromising justice and public trust.
At the same time, Islamic scholarship carefully distinguishes between bribery, gifts connected to official duties, and voluntary gifts offered without expectation of favouritism. A genuine gift exchanged between friends or a spontaneous gratuity after services have been completed is not the same as a payment intended to influence conduct or secure preferential treatment.
This distinction deserves emphasis because ethics are rarely served by sweeping generalisations. Our objective should not be to condemn generosity but to discourage entitlement and influence-peddling.The challenge extends beyond religious teaching.Every ethical system recognises that public trust depends upon impartiality.
Modern governance, professional ethics and corporate compliance all prohibit conflicts of interest precisely because even small unofficial benefits can influence judgement or create the appearance of bias.
Unfortunately, society often disguises unethical practices behind harmless expressions.We call it “chai.”We call it “baksheesh.”We call it “service charges.”We call it “something for the children.”or”iftar kharcha.
Changing the name does not change the nature of the act when the payment is expected rather than freely given.Language sometimes sanitises conduct that conscience should question.
Equally worrying is how easily younger generations absorb these behaviours.When children repeatedly witness adults slipping money into files, paying extra to bypass queues or routinely rewarding people merely for performing ordinary duties, they learn that integrity is negotiable and honesty impractical.
The cycle then perpetuates itself.Tomorrow’s corruption begins with today’s tolerated shortcuts.Breaking this cycle requires action from both institutions and citizens.
Governments must strengthen accountability, simplify procedures and eliminate opportunities for unofficial payments. Public offices should prominently display that services are free except for prescribed fees, while complaints of extortion should be investigated promptly and fairly.Employers should ensure that workers receive fair wages so that dependence on unofficial payments is reduced.
Educational institutions should teach ethics as a lived civic responsibility rather than merely an examination subject.Religious leaders, community elders and civil society must consistently reinforce the values of honesty, dignity and lawful earnings.
Above all, each citizen must resist normalising what is clearly abnormal.We should reward excellence voluntarily, never under pressure.We should appreciate genuine service, but refuse demands disguised as courtesy.We should distinguish compassion from coercion.And we should never offer unofficial payments to obtain privileges unavailable to others.
The greatest reform begins with ordinary people refusing to participate in ordinary corruption.
The story of “Naaste Haara” is therefore much larger than one cook’s misplaced request during a funeral.
It symbolises a society gradually confusing service with solicitation, gratitude with entitlement and kindness with obligation.
Cultures are not destroyed only by spectacular scandals. They are weakened when countless small ethical compromises become accepted as everyday life.
If we wish to rebuild trust in our institutions, strengthen our communities and leave behind a better moral inheritance for future generations, we must begin with these seemingly insignificant habits.
Perhaps the next time someone casually says, “Just a little chai,” we should politely but firmly remind ourselves that integrity is never measured by the size of the payment. It is measured by the courage to perform one’s duty honestly without expecting anything beyond what is rightfully earned.
The true wealth of any society lies not in its economy but in its character. Let us ensure that our children inherit a culture where honesty is valued more than “Naaste Haara,” and where service remains a duty—not an opportunity to solicit reward.
The author is a senior surgeon and writes frequently on healthcare, ethics, social reform and public policy. He can be reached at drfiazfazili@gmail.com.
