Memories of an ordinary bureaucrat :: 38 :: Bombay (Part V) - A fraud and a new service

http://www.bagchiblog.blogspot.com

Fraud in Akola

An extraordinary thing that I remember during my tenure in Bombay was a savings bank fraud that occurred, of all the places, at Akola. The initial reports that came in through the regional director Nagpur were that the fraud was hovering at around a couple of lakhs. In 1985 even a couple of lakhs was a big amount especially when it was defrauded. It was more so when one considered that the man who committed the fraud was a mere postal clerk. He wouldn’t have been able to earn a couple of lakhs in his entire career.

However, the amount defrauded did not stop at a couple of lakhs. It went on rising with every report that was submitted to me on the basis of my own instructions. When it hit Rs. 22 lakh I thought the time had come to get a move on and proceed to Akola. I told the PMG and he too said that it was time for me to pay a visit.

Curiously, as it happened the defrauded amount totaled Rs. 22 lakh and it had not increased since I left Bombay. The modus operandii was simple. The man deposited fresh deposits in the accounts of his children which he had opened depriving the depositor of his moneys. Being a small town it faced a lot of commotion and all postal employees were suspect in their eyes.

When I landed up the place was crawling with inspectors and investigators. Independent investigators arrived at the same figure – an amount that was too big to be defrauded by one man in a post office. The local press sought interviews many of whom wondered as to why there was no system of auditing. One had to repeatedly hammer it down it was an auditor who became the thief.

With the report filed with the Police I did not find any reason to remain at Akola. I commandeered a jeep and came away to Nagpur to catch the evening flight for Bombay. The fraud, instead becoming rich rotted in prison for a few years.

EMS Speedpost

Just before the EMS speed post system was to be introduced in Bombay in 1986 the PMG, CP Thomas, left on an Universal Postal Union assignment in Africa. Although I was always available in the office I was never associated in the meetings that were being held on regular basis in the chamber of the PMG. I was told that Ahmedabad PMG would come and hold double charge in the short-term vacancy.

Ultimately nobody was appointed in Thomas’s place and I was asked to look after the charge. Naturally, the responsibility to successfully introduce the new premium service of the Department at Bombay, the commercial capital of the country, also devolved on me. The only problem was I was totally blank about the new system as no papers on the subject were ever sent to me.

I read up all the material that had come and allotted work to those who I knew could deliver. They kept training the operatives and testing them till they had acquired the required expertise. Three days before the due date for launch of the service they came to me to tell me everything was fine. I would have none of it, I wanted them to have a dry run to check whether the timings provided for the runs between various points was adequate. The dry run did indicate the need for some reorientation of the running time of the vehicle.

I made an officer to travel in the vehicle on the day the system was introduced. He travelled in the vehicle through every point the vehicle touched and up to the airport mail office where everything that was collected was handed over for dispatch. He came back and reported everything worked like clockwork and they hit the airport to deliver the outgoing items on time.

While my goodwill earned at Nagpur carried the day as the officers who were specially deputed for the purpose were largely from there the senior officer who had come from the Directorate to supervise in the absence of the PMG, initially not very friendly, glowed with happiness, though did not have much to do.

*image from internet

Bhopal Notes :: 83 :: Catchments and intrusion in the Lake

http://www.bagchiblog.blogspot.com

A recent report said that in order to save the Upper Lake and Kolans River that feeds it 240 hectares of land is going to be brought under farming where fruits, flowers and spices will be grown. The report also said that more than 51000 fruiting plants will also be planted. According to the news fed by the government sources so far more than 15 ponds have been built and three check-dams are also ready. As many as 16 recharge shafts have been built to induce the rain water to go underground and recharge the sub-soil water.

This was a positive news item that has come out after a long, long time. That the catchments of the Upper Lake held the attention of the government  is a welcome sign. So far the government had given its best of frigid shoulders to the Lake and its catchments. That it has woken up to the need of conserving the catchments, the river that feeds the Lake and several drains that contribute in replenishing the waters of the Lake is a matters that warrants celebration by the people. It is seldom that such people-oriented decisions are taken, more so in respect of their water security.

All that is well and good! But, I can see from the window of my flat that construction in the catchments is going apace, especially in the complex of sporting facilities. At least two or three storied buildings are being constructed. One does not know whether these are regular constructions or are illegal. The Administration might like to satisfy itself that environmental norms connected with Wetland Rules are not being breached.

While the government’s pre—occupation with the catchments of the Lake are commendable one would be happy if it pays a little more attention towards improvement in the quality of its waters. Off and on reports appear in the newspapers that raw sewage flows into the Lake without any let or hindrance. In fact numerous nallas carrying sewage continue to flow into the Lake. For the last 25 years this reporter has kept a watch on this matter but it seems the government is yet to come up with a solution for the problem. Is it such an intractable problem? One feels it is nothing but sheer apathy of the powers that be.

Residents of Khanugaon, a locality that projects on to the Lake, have been flexing their muscles for some time. Apparently they want a piece of the Lake. A few years ago a wall was erected which assumed such importance that even the former chief minister went and had look at it. He issued orders for its demolition but failed to follow them in writing. The municipality has latched on to this shortcoming and did not demolish the wall. Obviously, there is some biggy behind it all as otherwise orders written or otherwise of the chief minister would be promptly complied with. A recent report indicated Arif Aqeel’s interest in Khanugaon.

Now one finds a newly built jetty protruding out as a tongue from one of the waterfront areas of Khanugaon. A light coloured boat regularly makes trips from and to the Boat Club. I find several sailors using the jetty in the morning to launch themselves into the water. None would really oppose such sporting activities but now only a jetty has been built, in course of time a boat club too will be built. In fact, there was a demand for a boat club by Khanugaon residents. So far it has remained elusive but it may not remain so for long. At least, I do not know whether necessary permissions/approvals have been taken to build and use a jetty in this eco-sensitive body of water. Public spirited people/organization might like to delve deeper into the matter,

Memories of a ordinary bureaucrat :: 37 :: Bombay (Part IV) – Mumbai High

http://www.bagchiblog.blogspot.com

On another day Sukumar came home and asked whether we would be willing to take a trip to one of the drilling platforms of Bombay High. My first reaction was who would allow us on a drilling platform and then one had to take a ride in a helicopter. Logistics were plainly against us but Sukumar with his never-say-die-attitude would have none of it. He brusquely told me to leave all that to him.

True enough he was able to swing it as he rang up to say one morning we would be leaving for the Juhu airfield around 11. Juhu was the place from where Pawanhans helicopters used to ferry men and material to the ONGC drilling platforms. In 1987, for it was that year when we took the ride in a Pawanhans helicopter, the reputation of the outfit was yet to be sullied. In later years there was a series of crashes, especially in the North-east region, one of the victims being a chief minister.

We drove down to Juhu and completed some formalities including signing away some disclaimers. The flying machine took off around 11.30 AM and within no time we were flying over the Arabian Sea. As the copter was flying at not very high altitude one could see massive fishes, presumably tunas, swimming in formation.  About an hour  and a half later we arrived at the top of the platform the name of which eludes me. The helicopter turned around and aligned itself with the markers to touch down. We were whisked down in lifts to the lower level.

In the hall we were shown in people were seen working with monitors in front. There were about a couple of dozen men. We were told that they work for 15 days and they are taken back to Juhu from where they head home. Some of them belonged to Bihar and they would catch a train for home the booking for which they would have done on arrival back from home. To go home and come back they would lose two days in travelling and that would give them 13 days of comfort at home.

At the platform they seemed to be quite happy. The accommodation though was cramped yet it was comfortable. The food was good as we shared their lunch. All in all they seemed to be a happy bunch of men. One, of course, could not get rid of the feeling of isolation, situated in mid ocean as they were in a confined space. The ONGC does take care to provide for their every need. They were all pleasantly happy we did not come across a worker who was grumpy.

As we collected on the helipad for the ride back the platform in-charge went close to my wife to tell her that she had become only the second woman to have stepped on to it after Indira Gandhi. While on our back I couldn’t help thinking that more people should be exposed to the way the men function on the platform. I felt a greater awareness about the conditions in which they work would be of help.

*Photo from internet

Memories of an ordinary bureaucrat :: 36 :: Bombay (Part IV) Trip in a yacht

http://www.bagchiblog.blogspot.com

In the yacht

At Bombay I met up with a batch-mate who was from the Customs and Excise Service. He was working as Collector Customs, Bombay. Sukumar Mukhopadhyay, that was his name, was a very sincere worker and a very good friend. I recall two very interesting trips out of Bombay with him. One was a trip to Uran in the yacht of a Customs officer.

The Customs officer, Gulshan Rai, had a yacht that was, if I am not mistaken, partly financed by the government. It was named Jaycus II after the Collector Customs who had rendered assistance in not only acquisition of the vessel but also in organizing a round the world solo trip for Gulshan in it. Built of fiberglass, it was a small yacht with a cabin and wherewithal to sustain one on a long trip. Gulshan was an interesting person, having travelled the world as he had done.

His yacht was anchored at the Gateway of India where he took in his supplies and we boarded the vessel. Slowly he meandered his way out of the crowd of boats of various kinds and once he was out of the traffic he headed for Uran. Uran in 1980s was just an outcrop of mainland with only a petroleum company having its storage facilities and a few villages. However, later it has seen some developmental activities. It took us around two hours to get to Uran where we had some beer and lunch.

Around 4.00 in the afternoon we commenced our “voyage” back home. Up to half way down it was all very calm and uneventful. Soon, however, the wind gathered strength and ominous dark clouds seemingly came out of nowhere in the Western sky. The wind progressively became more violent as the sky darkened and the sea became turbulent. The yacht appeared small and fragile in the rough weather with waves all of a sudden seemed far too violently buffetting the yacht. Gulshan would keep a continuous chatter keeping everyone’s morale up. As we came near the Gateway of India the waters became more turbulent as they would rush towards land, hit the wall and come back with renewed vigour. Inside the cabin we could not sit down and had to use all our strength to steady ourselves on our legs. We could see the Taj Hotel and Tower go bobbing up and down through the glass windows as the boat went up and down with the waves.

At last, after interminable minutes, we hit terra firma. We were home – with no harm done to any of us. Apart from the scary end it was a very interesting outing.

Funny ways of BSNL

http://www.bagchiblog.blogspot.com

Two days ago internet eluded us for the entire day. One did not lodge a complaint under the impression that it was a temporary disruption. But it continued much beyond the working hours when I decided to lodge a complaint. However to get the number of complaints booking proved to be as difficult. One has to feed in the telephone number and the STD code. When I fed the four-digit STD code it would inexplicably expand to eight digits and the operator was not able to register the complaint. I gave it up as a bad job.

I tried once again around six in the evening. This time without my feeding the number for the customer care executive the system on its own landed me up with the executive. She took down everything and asked me to hold giving me a false sense of relief. I thought I was through this time; but no, she came back on the line saying she was unable to get through as the server was working at very low speed and she was not able to have the complaint registered.

This was an entirely new phenomenon. The staff manning the complaint redressal system themselves had a complaint about the speed of the server. On my query whether she was not located at Bhopal she said no, she was in Rajasthan. This is the second time I was told that the complaints call centres of MP Telecom are located not in MP but in Rajasthan. The justification for farming out this important system of redressal of grievances that are not small in number to a place not within the Circle is what beats me.

But it is BSNL that does these extraordinary things. One hears that it is going to wind up soon. One wishes it Godspeed.

Memories of an ordinary bureaucrat :: 35 :: Mumbai (part II)- Matheran

http://www.bagchiblog.blogspot.com

A hundred odd kilometers from Bombay, Matheran is a small hill station on the Western Ghats at an elevation of around 3000ft. It is the only automobile-free hill station in Asia. When we went up the steep slope up to Matheran I had to park my car at a designated lot about a kilometer away. We had to walk the distance over kuchcha roads to get to our guest house.

 It was high season for the town and the small township was bustling with visitors. The narrow gauge line which climbs the steep Western Ghats from Neral Jn. steams right into the town to disgorge its passengers. The Light Railway is a little more than 100 years old and yet it missed being selected as a world heritage entity. Perhaps, the want of proper maintenance and irregular runs were the reasons. Nonetheless, the Railways are trying again to get the tag.

As the place is declared as an eco-sensitive zone private automobiles are banned in the town. One has either to walk it or use a horse or even a hand-pulled rickshaw.

About 35 look-out points can keep visitors engaged. Some of them are really breathtakingly beautiful. Walking up to them in the bracing cool climate of the place can be invigorating.

Memories of an ordinary bureaucrat :: 34 :: Mumbai (Part I)

http://www.bagchiblog.blogspot.com

So I landed up in Bombay - from one metropolis to another; from the political capital to the financial capital. In Delhi I was in a General Pool house that was below my entitlement and at Bombay, too, I had to move into a below-entitlement house that was, however, not of General Pool. It was a departmental house. The predecessors, in their wisdom, never thought of getting into the General Pool. Somehow, they seem to have been happy in departmental houses. In one way it was better. I recall having visited the house of a friend that was in terrible condition with balconies ready to fall off. Compared to them our houses were better maintained. Besides, having a departmental maintenance outfit has its own advantages.

With the new breed of packers and movers it was not difficult to move lock, stock and barrel from one place to another. They had taken the sting out of transfers. Besides, the new aircraft were capable to fly cars at tariffs that were only marginally higher than what was admissible if transported by an EVK railway wagon. I flew my Maruti 800 that was only a few months old in July 1984 by an Airbus and it took only minutes to have it delivered by Indian Airlines at Bombay. Within the matter of a week my wife and I were more or less settled in our new place of posting.

My office was in Bombay GPO building which is a heritage structure in the Fort area which has numerous structures classified as such. Bombay GPO is now more than 100 years old and is situated next to the World Heritage Site of Victoria Terminus, now renamed as Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminus. The building is of Indo-Saracenic kind patterned after the Gol Gumbad of Bijapur. It is a building of massive proportions with a circular central hall under its massive dome.

I was appointed as Additional Postmaster General in the Senior Administrative Grade Level II. The Postmaster General was in Level I. He was a Christian from Kerala and was a very amiable and humorous person. There was, however, a darker side of him. He used to make money by hiring huge structures for operative offices. While he took care of the postal operations of the entire city the rest of the state as well as the tiny state of Goa were left for me.

As I had earlier been Regional Director at Nagpur I had seen most of the eastern parts of the state. What I had not seen were parts of Marathwada, the Western Maharashtra and Konkan regions. Among the three Konkan region was considered very charming, offering best of nature – green hills, white and yellow sandy beaches and the blue waters of the Arabian Sea lapping on the shores. One had to take to the coastal highway – a badly maintained road with king-sized potholes. The Konkan Railway was still a few years away in the future.

 I made forays into Konkan starting off with Alibagh. The place had found favour with the rich and influential for building farm houses. It seemed to have been another way of concealing illegitimate income. Curiously I came across a huge property of Sardar Angrey, a feudal of Gwalior – a sworn enemy of the Scindias. I met him later in Delhi at a friend’s place. He used to own a Rolls Royce which he sold rather cheap being unaware of the price of a vintage Rolls. He apparently had no end of regrets about the loss.

In the next trip to Konkan I covered Chiplun, a very attractive little town, a taluka town and a trading centre to boot for the King of Mangoes – alphonsos. Its hills were green and a small stream meandered its way down towards the Arabian Sea.

Around 100 kilometres from Chiplun was the famous beach of Ganpatipule. We had booked a room in the guest house and spent a very pleasant 24 hours there. The beach was clean as we saw later in Vengurla. No sand crabs or spiders to bother one. This is true of most of the beaches in Konkan.

As I was close to Ratnagiri I took a shot at it. It is a beautiful place with green hills, small streams, creeks and clean beaches. The added attraction is the Alphonso mango and Kokum, a fruit that is specialty of the region and its cuisine. Besides, there is the Vijaydurg fort.  The mountain fastnesses of Konkan and Western Maharashtra are famous not only for their architecture but also for the exploits of Chhatrapati Shivaji and his cohorts. The environment of Ratnagiri ispresently under threat as a nuclear power station with French collaboration has been planned at Jaitapur proximate to it.

On another occasion I went further south of Ratnagiri – to Vengurla, a place which seemed to have terrific tourism potential but had remained unexploited. Its clean and seemingly anti-septic beaches are like an arc similar to Marine Drive in Bombay with a rest house on a hilltop at one end. Vengurla grows cashews and a fruit much like custard apple locally called Ramphal. One understands that the state government is now poised to market Vengurla as a tourist destination.

Savantwadi was a name I was familiar with. Some of my Maratha friends belonged to it or probably would talk about it. It was much like Goa – small, narrow roads, small markets with people trading with gusto. Savantwadi was south of Malvan that had sylvan beaches that stretch out ten long miles from one end to another. Malvani food has been well accepted by people from other regions.

As I did not wish to take to the coastal road again I went up the Western Ghats from Savantwadi to come across a natty little hill station by the name Amboli. It had a lovely rest house to compel us to spend the night. During the night it was cool and comfortable. Next morning we climbed down to Belgaum and proceeded to Kolhapur, on to Sangli, Satara and Pune. Thanks to my Maruti I made it in good time.