Politics, as they say, eventually returns the favour. Bhagwant Mann got a taste of his own political punchlines this week when cousin Gian Singh Mann crossed over to the BJP in a high-voltage induction ceremony led by Punjab BJP’s top brass, including Sunil Jakhar.

For months, Mann had sharpened one particular joke against Congress leader Partap Singh Bajwa. Since Partap Singh Bajwa’s younger brother, Fateh Jung Singh Bajwa, had joined the BJP, Mann would quip that Bajwa’s loyalty to the Congress was separated from the BJP only by “a few stairs”. “If he climbs them, he too may end up holding the BJP flag,” Bhagwant Mann would say at rallies, drawing loud laughs. Now the staircase appears much closer to home. Gian Singh Mann is no distant relative. He is the son of Bhagwant Mann’s maternal aunt and paternal uncle. In Punjabi family geography, that is close enough to share not just bloodlines but even a wall. Punjab politics has a wicked sense of timing and humour.

Court fears and policy pause

There are many a slip between the cup and the lip. With temporary employees, roadways staff, sanitation workers, and other contractual civil workers protesting across the state and threatening wider agitation, the government was all set to announce a regularisation policy. Chief Minister Bhagwant Mann had even called a press conference to make the announcement. Then came the last-minute brakes.

The reason officially whispered in corridors was the model code of conduct for the municipal elections. The irony? The State Election Commission functions under the state government itself. But what really appears to have forced the retreat was the fear of the high court stepping in if someone challenged the timing of the announcement. Nobody wanted judicial embarrassment over a politically loaded decision announced during election season. So the press conference was cancelled, the employees remain on the roads, and the government that seemed ready with a headline is now left battling agitating employees.

IAS with 7 cars

In Punjab’s bureaucracy, power is increasingly measured not just by files moved but by cars parked outside. A senior IAS officer, known in official circles for his fondness for government wheels, is learnt to be operating with a fleet that could embarrass a small motorcade. Apart from his officially attached vehicle, the officer is allegedly drawing as many as six government cars from different departmental pools. If officers measured status in horsepower, this officer would comfortably top the grid. What has raised eyebrows further is that the department is now processing the purchase of yet another vehicle. Seventh heaven, bureaucratic style.

Elsewhere in the Punjab Civil Secretariat, another recently transferred IAS officer reportedly refused to vacate his official room even after orders were issued. The successor had to spend hours pulling strings before finally getting possession of the chamber.

Parallel durbar

From Krishanu Sharda to Raghav Goyal, Punjab’s anti-corruption government is learning that the real problem is not just corruption allegations, but the unofficial durbars flourishing around power. Krishanu Sharda, the former hockey player arrested in the DIG bribery case, was no ordinary middleman. In police circles, he was spoken of as someone who could “manage” files, verifications, and difficult doors through proximity, not position. Officers knew him. Politicians knew him. That, perhaps, was his real designation.

Now comes Raghav Goyal, whose arrest has triggered fresh nudges and whispers across bureaucracy. The discomfort is not merely about alleged bribery. It is about access. Investigators are probing how a private individual allegedly moved so freely through official ecosystems, cultivated links with officers and politicians, and reportedly gained access to sensitive vigilance information. That is what unsettles the power centres. These men held no constitutional office, yet seemed permanently plugged into the system.