Jammu Diary: The Delhi Stopover

16 August 2009.

My last day before I start for Jammu. Hectic is an understatement. Hair colour (I wanted to colour mine brown much to the outrage of BS and JS, who also were forced to join in), a new restaurant for breakfast (Mayyas in Jayanagar, a flop show as we couldn’t find place among the crowd), meet SB, a senior officer and JS’s former boss in Bangalore, lunch at JS’s, movie (the Public Enemies, not worth the hype at all regardless of Johnny Depp’s presence), packing, a booze session, multitude of calls (importantly to RD to ascertain if the vehicle is coming to pick me up in Delhi) and the last minute tie-ups (for the taxi, contractor’s payments, Abhi’s fees, instructions to the maid and the gardener, etc). I’d later realize that as usual I’d forgotten to pack certain essentials.

I crashed even before I’d finished a sentence of complaint at BS.

17 August

I was stopping over in Delhi. To meet with the Senior (I’d sought an appointment too, to keep the pompous man happy). RD’s vehicle was waiting at the airport. I remember the first time I’d come to the new terminal at Delhi in May, I’d noticed that there was a leak in the ceiling. They’d placed a dirty plastic bucket right underneath, to avoid the water spilling all over the place. I’d even taken a picture of it. So much for private participation.

I reach the HQ by 2:15. RD is – as usual – a beehive of activity. People and papers keep buzzing in and out. RD shoots one command after the other, efficiency and assurance personified. I learn that the Senior’s busy in a conference and it’s 4:30 when it gets over. I’ve already left a message with his PS that I’m waiting. I check out with the PS again at 5 and learn that he’s back in his chamber. I am told to wait, as is his wont. I smile at his consistent ways. After a good 15 minutes the King relents and lets me in.

“So, is your boss sad?” he guffaws. I wonder what he might tell someone else about me. “Your new boss, Mr. GS, is a taskmaster”. “That shouldn’t be a problem Sir” I respond mechanically. “Okay, all the best” he concludes. But I didn’t go there just get his wishes. So I ask. “Why Jammu Sir?” “Because that was the only place we could accommodate you at”. Audacity. “Besides you also must look into yourself and see why you were graded the way you were graded”. I start telling my story. I know he’s not interested in listening. I don’t stop though until I’m not through. I wanted him to know that I could’ve defended myself even if he had not revised my appraisal.

RD – who had a conference in between – is back too. “Why don’t you meet SK while you’re here?” she suggests. SK is the in-charge of all the administrative matters. I was hesitant. SK was good to me in the past. He had acceded to my request for posting in Bangalore. But in the aftermath of JS’s case against the department, the equations had certainly changed. “Hey! Look (that’s her favourite phrase), people now know the truth about JS yaar. They know that SSM isn’t a holy cow as he always has projected. There’s a lot of sympathy now for JS and they know that they were wrong in their actions against him” she rattled. I acquiesced. “Don’t take too long. Let’s go out for dinner and I have a lot to talk” she warned. “I don’t think he will have much to talk to me” I retorted. It was going to be 7PM and I had no mood to sit there for more than 10 minutes. I was soon proved wrong.

SK gave me a long, soft stare as I entered his room. “Just came in to wish you Sir” I said, fidgeting and not knowing what to say. “Now that you’ve come and wishes, sit for a while”. Silence.

“So, what is the matter between your boss in Bangalore and you?”

“Do you really want to know Sir?”

“Yes. I have to know. I have a mandate”. So my story began. The second rendition for the day. Surprise of surprises, he was very attentive as the narration unfolded.

“Why didn’t you even give me a hint?”

“Sir, had it been before July 2008 I’d surely have spoken to you. But after what happened with JS…”

“Even I was a villain in the piece there”

I can’t but smile as I said, “Yes Sir”.

RD walked in. It was past 8PM. And further discussions enfolded. How to establish a two-way communication mechanism as against the one-way that exists now? What could be done to ensure young officers do not lose their morale while caught in the wrong places/situations or with the wrong bosses? SK even suggested I should stay back in Delhi for another day and meet the Madam. “Tell her the entire story. Only the truth. And let her decide what could be done about your transfer”. I declined. “I’ll report and then submit a representation Sir”. “Which places – other than Bangalore – would suit your requirement?” “Any place I can reach home from within 12Hyderabad, Pune, Chennai and Kochi”. He was perplexed for a moment. He also confided that he was given to understand that I wanted this transfer (to Jammu) and that’s how he didn’t talk to me before issuing the orders. Hilarious! I also learn that it was RD who helped the Senior in ‘revising’ my appraisal. I feel deeply touched. And, she’d never NEVER told me, though we had talked to each other several times hence.

It was 9:30 when RD and I reached a south Indian restaurant. Our idea of a great dinner and a lot of gossip, a lot of talk about our lives. By the time we parted ways – she graciously saw me off to the guest house – it was almost midnight. “Won’t your mom be anxious?” “I’ve already called her to say I’d be late” she said as the car zoomed out of the guest house.