Is your 'world-class' really worthwhile?

One true measure of our genius for assessing things is our use of the word 'world-class.' It's a description that's particularly Indian, in the sense that no one uses the term to describe the Fifa World Cup as a 'world-class' tournament, or the Uffizi in Florence to be a 'world-class' art gallery, or the A24 stretch of the autobahn connecting Hamburg to Berlin as a 'world-class' road. It's only used to describe wonderment when applied to an experience in India. Guru just won't do. It'll have to be Vishwaguru.

True superlatives, when applied here to a restaurant meal, a hotel stay, a metro ride experience, a university, a digital payment system, a swimming pool, or even a nephew's school theatre production, can be deemed 'world-class'. They may well be great. But the point is that to register that something is truly awesome, 'world-class' is the apogee of praise you'll need to take out of your toolkit for others to sit up and take note.

But what is 'world-class'? Statistically, the world isn't a paragon of excellence. Most of the 195 countries in the world struggle with shoddy construction, chaotic traffic, dubious hygiene, and education systems that produce the sort of things you read on Truth Social. If 'world-class' is meant to reflect the average of global practice, then the benchmark is depressingly low.


But, of course, that's not what is meant by 'world-class' here. It is meant to mean outstanding quality that places a person, group, or thing at the peak of their field--ranking among the very best in the entire world. The trouble is, 'world-class' aspirations are not always accompanied by 'world-class' standards and practices.

Recently, I went to an outlet of a Chinese restaurant chain. This particular branch rated high on food delivery apps - 4.5 (out of 5) on Swiggy, 4.2 on Zomato, both with more than 2,000 ratings. The moment I stood outside Denzong Kitchen in reasonably upmarket southern Kolkata, I sensed something odd: right at the mouth of the restaurant facing the footpath was the doorless kitchen. Where was the seating area?

Perhaps, this was an only-takeaway joint. But upon enquiry, I was told to go up a narrow flight of wooden stairs that led to a mezzanine floor that looked like a perfect transit station for human trafficking. With my order taking far longer than I hoped for, I went downstairs to the kitchen a few times. What I saw horrified me - from the cooking area, to where the dishes were cleaned (sic), to the way the food was being prepared. It was a wet organic nightmare even by my Pigpen hygiene standards.

A few weeks later, I learnt of the crackdown on restaurants, eateries, and mithai shops by Kolkata Municipal Corporation that's still in full-swing. Coming as it has in the run-up to next month's Durga Pujo, there's quite an outcry on how the new dispensation is cracking down on well-known establishments 'for no rhyme or reason', some even assigning a sinister 'non-veg food hatao' drive to the whole thing. A Denzong Kitchen outlet does feature in the 40-odd eateries whose licences have been suspended. But as I write this, the outlet I visited is certainly taking orders. Because of technical issues, you are unable to hear me retching at the thought of it.

What is true of disturbingly filthy restaurant kitchens, could be true for other arenas. When pavements illegally encroached upon by shacks and shops are cleared, there's an outcry. 'Where will the people go? How will we have a quick chai?' When leaky NEET exams are suspended to have them plugged, after the initial outrage against corruption, there's an outcry. 'How will my kid get into medical college? At least a bribe would have got him/her in.' Jumping a queue is so normalised that not being allowed to jump a queue becomes a human right violation.

People may be all for 'world-class.' But when they want to, say, add a minimum-hassle extension to their third floor, cutting corners and dodging regulations are seen as perfectly kosher lubricating jugaad. So, be careful of what 'world-class' viksit fix-its you wish for. It may mean making worldly sacrifices you're not willing to make. Certainly not till 2047.