Memories of an ordinary bureaucrat :: 51 :: Retirement and after (Part 2)

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(In continuation of the previous post)

With a desktop things became much easier although it took quite a bit of time for me to get the hang of it. For me the advantage was I didn’t have to mail my letters; they could now be e-mailed and could reach almost instantly. The ones to Central Chronicle would appear the very next day and those to the Statesman would take a little more time.

The Upper Lake of Bhopal was having a rough time and had dried up quite a bit. I was feeling distressed as, it seemed, the apathy of the civic authorities would destroy the Lake. I sat down to write a letter, a kind of a distress call but it turned out to be too lengthy. I took a print out and took it to the office of the Hindustan Times to give it to the editor. As the editor was unavailable I handed it over to one of the correspondents, Ambreesh, who, I believe, is now with India Today. That happened to be a Friday and I thought I would meet the editor on Monday. But before I could do that it was published on Sunday with a photograph of the Lake from the newspaper’s archives.

Quite clearly it was appreciated by the Editor, Mr. Askari Zaidi, who took special interest in the layout of the article and selecting a suitable photograph. I met him the next day and couldn’t thank him enough for his gesture. With that commenced a relationship with Mr Zaidi and the Hindustan Times that lasted for six years during which numerous articles of mine were published making me a known name (not a face) in the town. Mr. Zaidi encouraged people to write. He used to say that thinking people must be given a platform. But in the government such thoughts are considered pernicious.

 Late Mr. Mahesh Buch and Late Mr. Kripal Dhillon, Prof. Zamiruddin and some others used to write in the newspaper very frequently. They were known commodities; I was a stranger and, kind of, a new kid on the block – unknown and faceless. Initially many in Bhopal presumed that it was one of the two brothers whom thet knew was the writer. They had to be told that there was a third Bagchi who was, well, the ‘culprit’. The article made quite a splash and very few friends that I had congratulated me. One of the local editors, whom I did not know, came to congratulate me. By that time many of my articles had been published.

That was in 2001 and since then I have been, so to say, pushing my pen. The Hindustan Times reduced its city supplement to a mangled version of its former self. I was also told that newspapers like HT and Times of India (which started publishing later from Bhopal) were advised that any criticism of the government would entail deprivation of all commercial ads. The papers, to be on the safer side, discontinued accepting unsolicited articles. That shut the doors on my journalistic effort with the HT.

I, however, used to write in The Pioneer which too had started publishing from Bhopal. One Mr. VT Joshi, a very senior journalist who retired, if I remember, from HT used to be a member of our Saturday Club. He also used to run a syndicate which used to distribute features to several English language dailies in different states. Once I was introduced to him he readily accepted my pieces for circulation. This expanded my reach and if I sent a piece independently to Goa or Guwahati it would be published. However, the tie up with Mr. Joshi was short-lived as he expired while on a visit to Bangalore.

In the meantime, I started contributing to citizen journalism sites in India and the US. There still are a number of sites in India which unfortunately have been unable to make themselves secure. The US sites were however very welcoming. I recall the Ground Report of Rachel Stern, a UN intern, took all my pieces and after approval used to publish them. A time came when the site intimated that I did not need any approval and could post straightaway on the site. Unfortunately, she sold the site. Similar fate awaited many to which I used to contribute. For instance, Newsvine – an MS NBC outfit – ran aground after about a dozen years. Here some of my readers had become friends and used to exchange views with me. Likewise, the Third Report of one Mr. Boreli, a man who appreciated well-written pieces, sank when the outfit ran out of money. Another site, viz. “Media With Conscience” (MWCnews) just sank one fine morning without any trace.

It only proves that in a capitalist society independent journalism has no place. Money is a scarce commodity and none would like to place one’s bet on a venture that does not offer much return. Independent journalism hardly ever gave any return to its promoters. The first decade of this century was, nevertheless, the golden period for citizen journalism on the worldwide web. It, however, got caught up too soon in the machinations of the capitalist society for sheer motive of profits. 

Nonetheless, there is one example that defies the above formulation and it is “Ohmynews” of South Korea. It is a site that was launched years ago by one Mr. Oh and still continues to offer citizen journalists its site for mounting photos and texts. I, too, used to contribute to the site before it became a more professional journalistic site. I had a very large audience and one of my pieces was picked up by a researcher in the US who even spoke to me on an international call asking for further details.

 While the citizen journalism sites kept disappearing from the scene I kept writing for it had now become a passion and a manner of spending my days a little more fruitfully. Instead of passively waiting for the inevitable end it provided me a reason for being alive. Despite a repaired heart I am maintaining myself, with tireless efforts of my loving wife, well enough for my 83 years. Even if all the citizen journalism sites collapsed all around me I would still have my Blogger and Facebook accounts to express myself. Hopefully, they are not going to fail me and are likely to outlast me.

(Concluded)

*Photo from internet

Memories of an ordinary bureaucrat ::51 :: Retirement and after (Part 1)

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Soon after retirement we had to make a move. I was living in my own flat which I had bought from DDA. Although I was entitled to a Type VII house as Member of the Postal Board they did not allot any. In fact, I was indirectly asked to shell out forty grand for a house which I refused to do. It was strange that a government servant was being made to pay a bribe to get government accommodation of his entitlement. This had happened with a batch-mate of mine, too, who was asked to pay a greater amount, presumably, because he was in the Income Tax Department.

As no house was being allotted, after a few days, maybe a month, of joining as Member, we decided to move into our own flat in Vasant Kunj. We had hardly lived there for a year when (two months before my retirement) an Assistant Director of Estates showed up in my office with an allotment letter of a house in Bapa Nagar. While handing over the allotment letter he said he had a request to make. I exploded as he said that. Just because he had a request to make he had come personally to hand over the allotment letter which was of no use to me at that point in time. The Estate office people thought no end of themselves and acted hard to get. I gave him a mouthful and told him to take away the allotment letter and dump it in a trash bin.

Though of only two bedrooms, the flat in Vasant Kunj was nice and airy. Only problem with it was that it was on the third floor and climbing up and down at least twice a day was proving a little too strenuous for us. We had, therefore, decided to move to Bhopal where the local Chief PMG, a very nice and amiable Sikh, had selected a flat for me on the ground floor. We are still in the same flat even after 25 years. It has a fabulous view of the Bhopal Lake. That apart, I had two of my brothers and the sister living in Bhopal. My wife had her brother with whom her mother too was living here. For about twenty years we had a great time. We would have frequent get-togethers over drinks and dinners. All that is now gone; I lost the two brothers and my wife lost her mother and the brother. Four people passing on from a well-knit family makes a deep dent in it.

We started visiting places as and when it suited us. Soon, however, one morning I felt acute anginal pain in my left arm. The local doctors administered an injection of Streptokinase which reversed the impact of the cardiac attack that I had been a victim of.

It was hunky dory only for sometime as the pain reappeared in a year’s time. This time they referred me to Apollo Hyderabad. I could have chosen Madras but I had a brother in-law in Hyderabad and I thought it would be good for my wife to be near her close relatives. They put a stent and we came back only to find the pain making a re-appearance within a couple of months. After a costly Thallium Test again at Hyderabad the doctor said I should immediately get into the hospital. I refused and I decided to go to AIIMS Delhi. It was true I was in a bad shape as I was increasingly becoming dependent on sorbitrate. A close friend, unfortunately now no more, from my PGI-Chandigarh days arranged my treatment with Prof. Talwar, the HoD Cardiology at the AIIMS. He did the angiography and told me that he did not see any stent in my cardiac region. Stents, I was told, were not visible in X rays but were visible when angiography is done. I was stunned as I was sure Pratap Reddy’s outfit wouldn’t do such a thing. But there it was; Dr. Talwar was a respected physician and his word could not be disbelieved. No wonder the pain had re-appeared so soon. The cardiologist at Apollo Hyderabad had cheated me.

Next day Dr. Venugapal came and checked me out and assured me that I would be alright. Although a very close friend from my school days had died on his recovery table around 20 years ago yet I did not have any apprehensions as since then his reputation had been in an upswing. In 2 days I was back in my room and had no pain anywhere despite having been cut up at several places in the region of my chest. Later I came to know that Dr. Venugopal had done as many as five grafts on me, four of which are still working and the fifth one somehow got blocked but it has developed collateral arteries.

In three months I was fully recovered. In order to keep myself occupied I started writing letters to editors. Initially I used to write only to the editor of the Central Chronicle, the only English language newspaper of the town. I used to write on civic matters and, happily, occasionally they would be taken note of. Then I started writing to the Statesman in Kolkata. I knew that Mr. CR Irani, the Editor, was very tough in so far as the language was concerned. But when my first letter appeared I was overwhelmed. In course of time numerous letters of mine appeared in the Statesman, some as the leading letter with the title as the headline for the “letters” section. I was surprised when a 600 word letter of mine was published without a cut. Those days readers’ responses were given due importance. The post offices would function properly so that a letter from Bhopal to Kolkata would reach generally in 48 hours. There was no e-mail or messenger service then – only physical transmission of messages. With the appearance of the Social Media the importance that was attached to readers’ letters has disappeared.

I used to type out my letters on my portable Silver Reed typewriter that I had bought in Tokyo in 1982. It was a very handsome-looking two-toned machine in Orange and Black. Not only did it make writing less strenuous it also obviated, I suppose, the difficulty in the newspaper offices to decipher the hand-written letters. My brothers advised me to get a computer but I did not know how to work on one. Eventually, I joined an institute run by NIIT to learn to work on a computer. I was certainly the oldest in the class and most of the boys and girls could have been my grandsons or granddaughters. I was reminded of an article I had read in Time Magazine years ago describing how life was changing in America on account of progressive computerization with grandfathers learning the ropes from their grandchildren. Even the teacher Rashida was a slip of a girl. I have lost touch with her whereas the young lady who used to manage the Institute, Farheen Viqas, continues to be a friend on Facebook.

(To be continued)
*Photo from internet

Memories of an ordinary bureaucrat :: 50 :: End of the road (Part 2)

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A favourite of the Secretary had been transferred to Chandigarh when the militancy there was ruling high. He had a government house in Delhi which he had not vacated as his family was residing in it. After a specified period the government started charging market rent which was in thousands. A proposal was made out with the approval of the Secretary for the Accommodation Committee of the Parliament to allow retention by him of the house on usual terms as Punjab was highly disturbed and lives of the members of his family would not be safe. I saw the untenability of the proposal as the officer’s boss, the Chief PMG, was residing in Chandigarh with his family and that too in the busy Sector 22.

And, yet a proposal was made out which was to be defended in front of Central ministers one of whom, NKP Salve, was the chairman of the committee. As the matter came up, Mr. Salve asked me whether the officer had been asked to control law and order. As this was not within his purview I half-heartedly explained how he could not move his family. Nobody agreed and Mr. Salve said hundreds of officers were working in Punjab despite the militancy. A prince-ling from Dhenkanal, who too was a minister, came and told me that I did not defend the case properly. I told him I found it like defending the indefensible. But the whole process was very embarrassing.

I had, on the other hand, the good fortune to take part in a meeting with Prime Minister Narsimha Rao on the subject of Mahila Samriddhi Yojna. It was a Yojna that was made out by him for strengthening the women and was run by the Department of Posts. Officewise data was fed to the PMO every month which was monitored by PM himself. Officials from PMO would often visit me and ask for various kinds of information. Once a Jt. Secretary came and asked me to submit figures block-wise which I said was not possible as the departmental structure was not designed keeping in view the blocks.

The same month there was a meeting at the PM’s house and the Jt. Secretary, like a busybody came and warned me about the block-wise information desired by the PM. The Department for Social Justice officers were also there with whom there was quite an ani- mated discussion. During these discussions a man appeared from somewhere and kept an ethnic small stone vessel in front of the PM. Obviously, it was some kind of a potion that the PM rolled it around and took it in one gulp.

When the matter regarding submission of the Yojna figures came up I told the PM the same thing that I had told his Jt. Secretary and said that if he insisted we would supply some data, accuracy of which, however, we would not be able to certify as our departmental structure was not built keeping in view developmental blocks. The PM immediately said that he would not like a change in the system. There the matter ended. The bureaucracy never would say no to a minister, more so to the PM. They must learn to do that for good and proper reasons.

I was asked to attend meetings arranged by the Cabinet Secretary for opening of a school for the children of officers of and above the level of Deputy Secretaries of the All India Services working on deputation. On the first day I had to raise the point if the school was meant to be for the children of the officers of All India Services on deputation to the Centre then why were we asked to attend the meeting. Our officers were not classified as belonging to All India Services and were not on deputation; they were occupying cadre posts. The Cabinet Secretary quickly retracted from his earlier statement and, visibly embarrassed, said that the school would be for children of all officers of the level of Dy. Secy. and above of all services. The school named as Sanskriti School came up later in Chanakyapuri headed by the wife of the Cabinet Secretary. From the look of it, it appeared that it was a kind of a means to provide employment to the wives of bureaucrats. Things, however, may have changed since then. The instance only shows how bureaucrats devise means to benefit them and their families at the cost of the government. For this school a huge area in Chanakyapuri had already reportedly been earmarked.

Around four months before I was to retire I received a call one morning from the Secretary that I from that day onwards was in-charge of Operations and not of Development. I did not get any reply to my questions as to why the change was being made so late in the day when the post could have been given to me in the first instance. No coherent reply was forthcoming. Later I realised it was where computerisation was most intense and the man whom I was to replace was not playing ball with the Secretary. I thought, so be it and why make an issue of it for four months. I thought it was best to go along instead of creating more bitterness.

In fulfillment of my new responsibilities I occasionally went out to the operational offices of Delhi where they were working on computers. The invoices from Bombay to Delhi would take pretty long to reach. It was pre-Windows 95 times and while the carriers were suffered from in adequacy our men also not very adept. The net was painfully slow. And yet there was this tiny hope that all were very keen to learn. I occasionally got a culture shock when I saw Postal officials working the computers.

This is precisely what happened when I was asked to inaugurate the computerized Park Street Post Office in Kolkata in September 1994. On the counters there was an array of desktops which the officials started working on as soon as the inauguration was over. Obviously, they had learnt the ropes and were only awaiting the opportunity. Only the unions were holding them back.

A heads of circles conference came along in 1995. It was to be held in Odisa and a resort on the Puri-Konark road was booked for the officers. It was a two-day affair after which my wife and I moved to Konark. She had not been to Konark and this was a good opportunity.

The curtain came down on my career on 30^th September 1995. In the office, however, it was business as usual; only a farewell Board meeting was scheduled in the evening. I spent 34 years in the department most of which were sweet and happy despite a large number of changes of places. Only the end came with a bitter taste which too I got over in a matter of weeks. I knew there will be some withdrawal symptoms and I had warned my wife about them. I had told her not to take notice if I talked nonsense or lost my temper for small breaches of routine. People sometimes went under depression when official positions and work were withdrawn from them and behaved irrationally. So, on the last day of September 1995 I bid final good bye to the department.

It is now 25 years since I retired and some of the memories are still so fresh. To have memories so vivid of years gone by even after a quarter century is no mean achievement for an old man of 83.

(concluded)

Memories of an ordinary bureaucrat :: 50 :: End of the road (Part 1)

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Memories of an ordinary bureatcrat :: 50 :: The end of the road (Part 1)

As we sat cooped up in the plane for almost two hours a train of thoughts passed through my mind. I was going to take over as a Member of the Board which was the most that we could get to. But currently departmental officers were becoming secretaries. Things seemed to have opened up considerably. When I was a probationer the same man who tarried over my transfer back to Delhi from Kolkata had told me at Nagpur in 1962 that there was no future for me and that I was going to retire as a probationer. Obviously, it was a joke but he too, perhaps, saw no future for himself. But, later, there we were: he working as Secretary and I as a Deputy Director General. Even my second brother had told me that I could at best go up to the Junior Administrative Grade – a level that was four levels below the one that I retired from.

Nobody could foresee the changes that came through during those thirty-odd years. Although our growth rate was laughed at as a Hindu Rate of growth of 3.5% yet the government did well in boosting up the economy with all round development. In the field of communication it was planning that was the trick and when I entered the service planning for expansion had just commenced. We harvested the results as we went along. The data that is touted today about the number of post offices – around 150000 – was all the result of planning and when the ground level got spread out the superstructure too got fleshed out. Throwing one’s mind backwards one can imagine how miserable a condition that the British had left us in before they finally said good bye. A man in a village had to walk miles to get to a post office. It must have been a herculean task for our economists and planners to pull the economy up by sheer boot straps.

The day I was to join I was told that Secretary was heading towards Australia and that I should take care nothing untoward happened. He was away for more than a week and nothing untoward happened. During the interregnum I found that I was appointed Member in-charge of planning and development. However, because of shrinkage of allotment of resources there was no scope for any planning or development. The work relating development was that of computerization and that was all being looked after by Secretary. He, obviously, did not wish to shed this item of work for reasons known to only him.

I went and told him that it was becoming very embarrassing for me as in meetings with private sector men I was introduced as Member in-charge of development but when they asked me what developmental work I was doing I could hardly specify any. I asked him either to share developmental work like induction of technology or, in the alternative, change my designation so that I could sit in my room and twiddle my thumbs in peace. I had to put it straight that if there was no resolution of the matter to my satisfaction I would be compelled to approach the minister or the Cabinet Secretary, or both.

He was taken aback and said that he would not part with computerisation of the department. I said, he needn’t give me anything and keep everything with himself but the condition would be that he would have to have my designation changed. I came away and after some time the internal phone rang. It was the Secretary. He said he would pass down the induction of satellite technology. Though it was only a fig leaf I said, fair enough.

I never imagined that I would have to fight some more, though without any gain. Some officers came and told me that the five-yearly Congress of the Universal Postal Union was being held at Seoul, South Korea. The delegation generally includes the Minister, Secretary, a member or two of the Board and the DDG in-charge of international (postal) relations. What the officers conveyed was this year no member was going, i.e. I would not go and instead the Additional Secretary in the Department of Telecom – a Postal officer on deputation – would be going. The Addl. Secretary was known for his skills in maneuvering things in his favour because of which he spent around 20 years on deputation in Delhi. He was a boot-licker of politicians and he would do anything to please them.

Soon the President of our Service association showed up. He narrated the same story and was vehemently opposed to the inclusion in the delegation of the Telecom man. He feared that this would set a wrong precedent as it had never happened that the UPU Congress was attended by a non-postal man. He wanted me to do something. I knew the futility of it all and yet I said I would go and lodge my protest with the Minister.

I first went to the Secretary and asked him whether he knew of the developments regarding the delegation to Seoul. He said he knew and when questioned whether he had advised the minister against including the Telecom man he said he had not done that. I had to give him a mouthful and told him he had failed to uphold the interests of the Department and its officers. I then went to the Minister and asked him when I was sitting in the adjoining building as a Member of the Board how was he taking a Telecom official to Seoul? In reply he said he did not “visualize” me and that next time he would keep me in mind. I had to tell him there was no next time and that he was not properly advised by the Secretary and that what he had done was wrong. He got annoyed and never spoke to me again.

A favourite of the Secretary had been transferred to Chandigarh when the militancy their ruled high. He had a government house in Delhi which he had not vacated as his family was residing in it. After a specified period the government started charging market rent which was in thousands. A proposal was made out for the Accommodation Committee of the Parliament to allow retention by him of the house on usual terms as Punjab was highly disturbed and lives of the members of his family would not be safe. I saw the untenability of the proposal as the officer’s boss, the Chief PMG, was residing in Chandigarh with his family and that too in the busy Sector 22.

And, yet a proposal was made out which was to be defended in front of Central ministers one of whom, NKP Salve, was the chairman of the committee. As the matter came up Mr. Salve asked me whether the officer had been asked to control law and order. As this was not within his purview I half-heartedly explained how he could not move his family. Nobody agreed and Mr. Salve said hundreds of officers were working in Punjab despite the militancy. A prince-ling from Dhenkanal who too was a minister came and told me that I did not defend the case properly. I told him I found it like defending the indefensible. But the whole process was very embarrassing.

(To be continued)

*photo from internet