Doing my Dhoti

 

During the marketing management course in MBA, we’re constantly badgered with the 4 Ps – Product, Price, Place, Promotion. Every marketing manager’s day and night and mind (or lack of it) begins and ends with these 4 Ps. During Police service, I came across a different expansion, Politicians, Press, Police and a fourth profession starting with P. One of my colleagues was fond of saying – these 4 Ps are the most untrustworthy of the lot. This piece deals with the first category, the men in Dhoti, the politicians. 

For my marriage, I had applied for seven days’ Casual Leave which was granted. When I was saying ‘see you’s to my colleagues, one Dhotiwala from the ruling party, Shanti Dolui (name changed) landed up and started telling everyone that his party supporters were about to get attacked. Since it was in the island area, he wanted us to block any mobilisation by the opposition party on the rivers so that his poor dear supporters’ lives would be spared. We all thought he was just being hyper but did arrange for police launches patrolling the rivers. I went home, packed and left for the railway station to board the train. Just as I was getting down from the vehicle with my suitcase, an Inspector came running, apologised for being the bearer of bad tidings, and told me that my leave was cancelled and I had to rush back to office. 

I was shocked and surprised but, orders being orders, rushed back to office. What I found out was that far from his supporters being attacked, Shanti Dolui had himself mobilised a lot of his supporters the previous night and launched an attack on the opposition supporters. He had manipulated the Police into arranging the patrolling so that the opposition couldn’t counter-mobilise. However, the opposition supporters in place proved to be numerically stronger and in the skirmish, the ruling party supporters had suffered heavy casualties. Now, I was being tasked to establish peace and rehabilitate the ruling party supporters. I was furious. I also asked why, when I’d proceeded on leave, another Addl SP couldn’t have been sent. Only to be told that no one else was daring to visit the area. 

Cut to a little later. The world had moved on and I had grown up a little and was a Deputy Commissioner in Calcutta Police. While we cops were chasing dacoits, robbers and murderers, the government panicked about something else – Delhi government had fallen because onion prices breached Rs. 50 mark. Every day, there was a meeting chaired by either the Finance Minister or the Home Minister in the state regarding prices of different commodities in different markets in West Bengal and Calcutta. 

In one of the meetings, the honourable Minister averred, “Look, Bengalis will forgive us other vegetable price rises; they will never forgive us rise in the price of potato – 80 % of the country’s potato is grown here. Please stop any export of potato to other states.” His highness’s words were our command and we blocked the four exit routes out of the state for potatoes. This obviously became big news. The next day, Andhra CM told the press, “West Bengal is not giving us potatoes? Fine, we’ll not send any fish to West Bengal.” I didn’t know then but, apparently, 70 % of the fish consumed in West Bengal came from Andhra. 

That was doomsday, followed by emergency meetings. Potato price was actually “small potato” compared to a fish price hike in West Bengal. Potato export to Andhra was expressly “allowed.” For one full week thereafter, I had to report the prices of various categories of fish to the highest authorities. 

During a central government tenure, I was the no. 2 in an organisation. When my Boss retired, I was preparing for a new Boss (whoever he would be). Unfortunately, there were a lot of illegal demands on my organisation because at that time there was a lot of corruption in the air and in the particular sector my organisation was in. My Boss had held firm and was very unpopular with the Minister and LMP (Like Minded People). The Minister happened to be a Jatt. Before retiring, when pressured for an obnoxious favour, my Boss had remarked, “Even if I wanted to do it, my officers, B.B. Dash and others won’t let me …” So the LMP were wary of me. To my chagrin, they not only decided to keep my Boss’s post vacant but gave the charge to a junior guy from outside who they thought would be more pliant and “controllable.” 

I tried to protest but it was all falling on deaf ears. One day I got thoroughly het up and put down everything in writing and sent it across. There was panic and consternation in equal parts. I believe, the LMP told the Minister how I had exceeded all possible limits. The Minister read through the whole missive, twice, then burst out laughing and merely said, “Yeh toh mere jaisa hai … poora Jatt hai.” The matter went to the Prime Minister and I was given the charge – the (un?)happy situation lasted almost four years. 

One Chief Minister (CM) used to actively stoke sycophancy. On the CM’s birthday, all the Ministers and MLAs used to compete to recite the longest poem in honour of the CM. Whenever the CM would travel by air, all the Ministers and many MLAs used to crowd around at the airport. The CISF Commandant at the airport was fed up and developed a routine. He used to draw a circle. All these worthies used to stand inside the circle with their heads bowed until the CM convoy zoomed past. One day the Commandant asked them why they were crowding there when the CM didn’t even bother to glance at them. One of them said, “You don’t know … later the CM checks the video footage of our standing there and from our facial expressions, the CM determines who is how loyal.” 

Well, I also did my share to cater to these idiosyncrasies of the dhotiwallahs. Afer all, as Edwin Lutyens once remarked, “India expects every man to do his dhoti.”

AQI and lack of IQ

Today, all the talk is about AQI (Air Quality Index). One Chief Minister thinks it is temperature, which can be measured by anything, up to and including a measuring tape. Proposed solution – throw water on the tape and close down the tandoors. Government admits to high AQI but addresses the root cause by stating that there’s no correlation between high AQI and lung problems. Another person, heading the most powerful country in the world thinks the world needs more global warming because he happens to feel chilly sometimes. We live in such times. 

In all this din, the real din, i.e., noise pollution, seems to have escaped people’s attention. Noise pollution leads to serious health issues – hearing loss, Tinnitus, high blood pressure, heart disease, stress, anxiety, sleep disruption, etc.. It also impairs concentration, memory, and productivity in a big way. Children, pets and the elderly are particularly vulnerable. It also harms wildlife by disrupting communication and survival. Here’s a sample of what people with Tinnitus live with, 24 hours a day: 

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/I1unX9SVpPE 

Many countries take noise pollution extremely seriously. So much so that in London, aircraft landings and take offs are severely restricted during certain hours just because of the noise exceeding ambient noise by a wide margin. Scarborough, England cancelled fireworks on New Year Eve of 2023 so that a walrus who had ambled into their coast would not be disturbed in its rest.

By contrast, we in India seem to thrive on noise, the more, the merrier. While in many countries, honking is almost a no-no and is considered rude and aggressive, in India, we honk for a variety of reasons. We honk not only for warning other drivers or pedestrians, we do it to express greeting and joy, to show impatience, to announce our presence, as a safety valve to deal with road rage, paranoia and frustration or simply because we are bored. Stand on any traffic intersection during most hours and a cacophony assaults you beyond endurance limits. Any festival, any cause for celebration is never complete without microphones and amplifiers blaring all over the place. 

In January 1998, a 13-year old girl was a victim of rape. Her cries for help went unheard because of blaring noise of music over loudspeaker in the neighbourhood. The same evening, she committed suicide. This shook the conscience of the nation and brought to the fore the pestilential nature of undue noise. It also led to a Public Interest Litigation case before the Supreme Court which delivered a landmark judgement in 2005. 

The Supreme Court held that the fundamental right under Article 21 of the Constitution, i.e., the right to life and liberty includes the right to freedom from noise pollution. This right cannot be violated by justification through right to freedom of speech and expression (Article 19) when the latter impinges upon a person’s fundamental right to life and liberty. 

The Supreme Court order (2005), Calcutta High Court order (2023), Noise pollution control rules and SOP by West Bengal Pollution Control Board boil down to these for West Bengal: 

·       Firecrackers are allowed only between 8 PM and 10 PM during Diwali, between 6 AM and 8 AM during Chhat Puja and between 11.55 PM and 12.30 AM during Christmas and New Year Eve. On any other occasion, prior permission is required, that too for two hours only. Noise of firecrackers cannot exceed 125 decibels at a distance of four metres.

·     Peripheral noise at the boundary of a public place cannot exceed 75 decibels and a residential place, 60 decibels. 60 decibels is basically the sound level when two persons are talking normally.

·     There cannot be instrument or sound amplifier between 10 PM and 6 AM at a residential place except in public emergencies. Also, no horn in residential areas during the above period.

·    Microphones and amplifiers can be used only after permission from Police/ district authorities after fixing a ‘Sound Limiter’ with the amplifier system.

·       Disc Jockey (DJ) set or high pitch sound box cannot be used in the open.

These regulations have been in place for a while. However, their implementation is another thing. I stay in a complex of senior Police officers, serving and retired. The violation of the above norms is rampant even in this complex of law enforcers. 

Looks like, people can’t live without bursting firecrackers. Diwali celebrations start before the day of Diwali. 8 PM to 10 PM window doesn’t seem to have any meaning. People start bursting crackers before 8 PM and continue well beyond 10 PM. Some other complexes nearby have banned firecrackers. People from some of these complexes land up in the Police complex to burst crackers, presumably safe in a sense of immunity because of its being a Police complex. As to 125 decibel limit, the less said, the better. Even basic safety precautions are not taken. Firecrackers land in houses. A senior officer standing innocently on his own balcony nearly lost an eye as a “rocket bomb” just whizzed past it. 

There’s no concept of ‘Sound Limiter.’ The decibel level during New year Eve is to be heard to be believed – walls shake. I guess, the time limit of 10 PM applies only to other people. 

When I suggested complying with the norms, I was asked to “explain” – possibly the first instance of law violators asking law abiders to “explain” their conduct! Well, I’ve taken recourse to legal intervention and I guess I’m currently the most unpopular guy for miles around. 

I hope, people in India realise the serious hazard they themselves are facing due to the callous disregard of noise pollution. I developed Tinnitus after moving into this Police complex. There is no cure.

I-DIDN'T-GO

 

Hesitated to write this piece. I worked with the Ministry of Civil Aviation for six long years but my job pertained to aviation security, not aviation safety. You may well ask, aren’t they the same thing? 

There is a difference. If a small nut is missing from the thousands of things in an aircraft and, as a result, it crashes, that is a safety issue. If, however, the nut was deliberately removed so that the aircraft would crash, it becomes a security issue. So, human intervention and malevolent intent are sine qua non for something to be treated as an aviation security issue. 

Given this, I’m not really qualified to hold forth on the recent Indigo no-go. However, because of a civil aviation stint, some folks have asked me to hold forth on it. So, here goes, for whatever it’s worth. 

Why did it happen? Why did more than 5,000 flights get cancelled, and continuing? 

Indigo has given several reasons for it. The “new” Flight Duty Time Limitations (FDTL), technology issues (such as the A320 software update), seasonal schedule realignment, airport congestion, and adverse weather conditions. While the other reasons were part fact, part fiction and part wild exaggeration (Indigo attributed weather conditions for certain flights and airports with perfectly sunny weather; other airlines managed the software upgrade, etc.), the single main reason was the FDTL. 

Indigo’s claims of “new” FDTL are not tenable. These norms were issued in January 2024 and airlines had almost two full years to implement them. They required to hire new pilots and staff. Instead of this, Indigo is reported to have responded by putting a freeze on pilot hire. Which is okay really. Indigo is a private operator and it can have whatever staff it wants. However, with that hiring freeze, and with the revised FDTL norms, they could operate less flights. What they did was actually increase the no. of flights for the winter schedule (effective October 26) by 6 % over their summer schedule and 9.66 % over the previous year’s winter schedule. This was brazenly non-compliant behaviour. Further, this is quite likely to have been a case of “slot hoarding” so that other operators are elbowed out - typical monopolist machinations. 

With a 65 % market share, Indigo clearly thought it would get away with it. They obviously have so far, as seen by the government having been compelled to withdraw the FDTL order. Airlines have tended to have an out-sized influence over DGCA and the Ministry of Civil Aviation. Sometime back, during the UPA era, Kingfisher pilots and crew went without salary for a prolonged period. The then DGCA determined that this had serious safety implications and, one fine morning, issued a notice to the airline to explain. In the afternoon of the same day, another officer walked into his office, waved a paper to show that the incumbent DGCA had been unceremoniously removed and that this officer was the new DGCA so could the now-former-DGCA kindly vacate the chair? 

DGCA also must share some of the blame. Firstly, while FDTL is an important component of safety, they seem to have taken a maximalist approach. Here’s the comparison of the FDTL norms: 

Parameter	“New” DGCA, India rules	USA	EU
Max daily flight time	10 hrs	8-9 hrs	10 hrs
Max flight duty period	11 hrs	9-14 hrs	13 hrs
Night duty definition	0000-0600 (max 2 landings/ week)	0000-0459	0200-0459
Minimum daily rest	12 hrs	10 hrs	12 hrs
Weekly rest	48 hrs	30-34 hrs	36 hrs

The other FDTL norms are the same for all the three. The problem seems to have occurred with increasing the weekly rest to 48 hrs from the earlier 36 hours and capping the night landings at 2. These 48 hours are 50 % higher than the limit followed by USA and EU and the previous limit of DGCA India. The cap on night landings was 6 in India, prior to these regulations. 

Secondly, it is not possible that DGCA didn’t know that Indigo didn’t have the manpower to operate their existing schedule with the revised FDTL norms. Given that, their approving an enhanced winter schedule for Indigo beggars belief. 

Another agency which seems to have been asleep at the wheel is the Competition Commission of India. This commission and the Competition Act were created precisely to prevent such abuse of dominant position in the market. They should have prevented an organisation from growing "too big to fail.” 

The incident has wreaked havoc with the schedules and lives of many passengers and their families/ organisations. Image of the Indian aviation industry has taken a tumble. The disruption has been humungous and the industry/economy will take a long while to recover from the aftershocks. Meanwhile, a song written in 1875 and an ex-Prime Minister who died in 1964 are more important issues today.

The Slippery Slope

 

Been wanting to write about Chanda Kochhar who has been in and out of news, for all the wrong reasons. She had risen to the post of CMD at ICICI bank, then the largest private sector bank in India. Earlier her steering of the bank in the face of 2009 meltdown (ICICI had exposure to Lehman Brothers, the news leading to flight of a lot of deposits from the bank) had cemented her place as the high priestess of high finance in India. Her daughter’s marriage was attended by the Who’s Who of India – the Union Finance Minister, the Maharashtra Chief Minister, Amitabh Bachchan, Mukesh Ambani et al.. Then suddenly, Chanda Kochhar came crashing down. She and her husband were both arrested on charges of gross corruption, profiteering, conflict of interest and other counts. 

This was not the solitary such case. Think Rajat Gupta. He went where no Indian had gone before. Baker Scholar at Harvard Business School, the first foreign-born Managing Director of McKinsey & Co., co-founder of Indian Business School and so on. He served a two-year prison term for insider trading and McKinsey dropped him from their alumni database and called clients worldwide to say that they would have nothing to do with him going forward. 

Ramalinga Raju. He was the poster boy of Indian IT dream. In its heydays, Satyam Computer Services founded by him represented the might of Indian IT capabilities and was described as its “crown jewel.” It operated in 60 countries, employed 50,000 staff and was the first Indian company to be listed on three major international stock exchanges, NYSE, Euronext and Dow Jones. In 2009, Raju admitted to embezzlement of Rs. 7,136 cr which led to his conviction and sentence of 7 years’ jail and fine. 

Obviously, these were very bright people. However, at some point, they lost their moral bearings in a big way and could no longer distinguish between right and wrong. Why does this happen? I read up a bit on it and also reflected a bit more. There appear to be four common pitfalls leading to such successful people landing up on a slippery slope of no return. 

First is the corrupting influence of power. Power is the number of people our actions influence X the amount of that influence. As we grow into our jobs, we find both components of power increasing and our acquiring more and more power. This power is very intoxicating so, like a drunkard craving more and more whiskey with each passing day, we also seek out means of increasing our power, sometimes by any means. 

In our quest of more and more power in a hurry, we take our first, tentative steps at cutting corners or beating the system. What happens is, if we are successful, these infringements tend to be initially ignored and later applauded. So, gradually when we go on to ever bigger transgressions and keep getting away with them, we develop a sense of invincibility – I’m Muhammad Ali; no one and nothing can touch me … this is the kind of pitfall which leads a cop from interrogation through third degree to things like the horrific Bhagalpur blindings.

When Chanda Kochhar was sitting in that MBA classroom at Bajaj or when Rajat Gupta was considering his first job or when Ramalinga Raju ventured into business, they must’ve dreamt about big things that they wanted to achieve. I do think, their achievements exceeded their original dreams by miles. After earning so much, attaining so high statuses and feted by the highest and the mightiest, why then did they crave for so much more that they let their morality go by the board? What they developed was ambition without purpose. This is when despite having all the money in the world, one tries to acquire more and more without any use for it; despite having a huge conglomerate, one indulges in a merger and acquisition spree without it helping the bottom line; and so on. 

The final and probably the most dangerous pitfall is suppression of guilt through rationalisation. It starts small. Justifying an irregular action on the pretext of helping a subordinate, later, for the sake of the department or branch, even later, for the larger benefit of the company/ industry, and, if one is intoxicated/ megalomaniac enough, justifying by claiming that it was all for the sake of the country or the world. 

The problem is, while errors of judgement or competence slip-ups can sometimes be redeemed, it is impossible to restore status-quo-ante after an ethical slip-up. 

[Small factoid: Chanda Kochhar completed her MBA from Jamnalal Bajaj Institute of Management Studies, Bombay in 1984, the same year I completed mine from IIM, Bangalore.]

Good cop, bad cop

 

In the IPS, while undergoing training at the Academy, we were told that we’d be attached to an SP in a district for field training, that the same SP would be our friend, philosopher and guide and that the equation with him or her would make or mar our entire careers. When I landed in the district, I was excited but extremely nervous regarding my first meeting with him because the first impression was considered of paramount importance. I’d rehearsed and rehearsed as to answers to possible questions and landed up in his office at 10 AM sharp in all my finery (we’ve to wear the ceremonial uniform while “calling on” seniors for the first time). The office was completely empty! I didn’t know that in West Bengal no one reaches office before 11. Around 11, people started filing in but there was no SP. I was told that he was on field visits and his arrival time was uncertain. So, I kept waiting and waiting. In that small town, it was not feasible to go to a hotel in all that regalia so I kept getting hungry but had to wait. Finally, the SP came back from his tour at 6 PM and summoned me in. 

He was very genial and gradually, I started feeling more and more comfortable, despite being really famished and disoriented. Suddenly he asked, “Do you drink?” To which, I eagerly replied (probably tongue hanging out!), “Yes, Sir.” Then he said, “But, I don’t.” OMG, my career felt to have ended before it had begun! I tried my best to recover but don’t think did a good job of it. There used to be a system of Annual Confidential Reports (ACRs) which later metamorphosed to Performance Appraisal Reports (PARs). The emphasis in ACRs used to be on “Confidential” so senior officers used to write these without any fear of blowback. The prescribed gradings were Outstanding, Very Good, Good, Average and Poor. For IPS officers, “Good” was actually considered “Bad” because they were expected to be at least “Very Good.” Towards the end of my career, in the interest of transparency, the government decided that the ACRs and PARs should be opened up and made available to the officers concerned. Since I’d got all my promotions on due dates, I’d not bothered much but just before retiring, out of curiosity, I accessed and downloaded all the ACRs/ PARs I’d received during my entire career. I was surprised to find that in the whole career, I’d not received a single ACR/ PAR which was less that “Outstanding,” save one, i.e., that by the above SP who had rated me “Good” which actually amounted to “Bad.” First impressions do count. 

Most of my bosses were actually good, even including the above one. However, I did have one absolutely vile boss who created a lot of problems not only for me and my colleagues but for his own bosses too. 

Right from Day One, he used such filthy language with all his subordinates that we were all stunned. Every day was a fraught affair on inessentials. Sample this. There was a training centre under me. Each new course was formally “inaugurated” by a senior officer. Each time, I would put up a note in the file seeking information as to who would inaugurate and the file would come back generally with the Director General (DG) or the Addl Director General (ADG) consenting to do so and there was never a problem. For one particular course, both the DG and ADG had other commitments and the file returned with my Boss writing that he would inaugurate it. However, the file was personally carried by his Personal Secretary who told me that apart from what Saheb had written on the file he also desired that I should “escort” him from his house. There was no such precedence. The DG and ADG both used to land up at the training centre and we (including my Boss) used to receive them there. I also asked around with other similar organisations regarding their procedures and this was unheard of. The sole purpose for this was to humiliate me and reduce me to the level of a Constable or something in the eyes of the other officials. I didn’t want to create a scene so went to him and said that I’d receive him properly at the training centre as was the practice. He agreed. However, next day, I received a call from the Commandant of the training centre saying that Saheb had called him and directed him to inform me that I was to escort him. 

This made me furious. The order was improper and the means of conveying it was even more so, the Commandant (and earlier his Personal Secretary) being very junior to me. So I told the Commandant that no force on earth could make me do this and also told him to convey it to my Boss and “report compliance.” Caught between the devil and the deep blue sea, the Commandant was panicking. He tried to mumble some diplomatic words to my Boss but the latter was adamant. Out of fear, he didn’t communicate anything to me. On the appointed day and time, I landed up at the Training Centre, waited for some time, inaugurated the programme myself and proceeded to office. 

For such capers, and because of complaints by a large number of officers (including me), my Boss was thrown out of the organisation. Much later, when I met him accidentally, I told him that if only he had invited me nicely to his house, I’d’ve been really happy to go. Surprisingly, when I checked those ACRs/ PARs at the time of my retirement, I found that he’d consistently given me “Outstanding” gradings for the two years I worked with him. Despite all this.

The good cop was bad for me and the bad cop was good for me!

Customs, Police and a cautionary tale

 Recently, a logistics company, Wintrack tweeted: 

From October 1, 2025, our company will cease import/ export activities in India. For the past 45 days, Chennai Customs officials have relentlessly harassed us. After exposing their bribery practices twice this year, they retaliated, effectively crippling our operations and destroying our business in India. We deeply thank everyone who has supported us during these difficult times. 

Customs dismissed the allegations as “serious and false.” Wintrack named three officials, shared screenshots, mentioned bribe amount/s and also “discount” on the bribes. The episode led to such a flood of others pouring out their tales of harassment by and bribery of Customs officials on the internet that the Union Finance Ministry has now ordered an enquiry and also issued a statement. 

Well, I too have a Customs story. 

This was when I was S.P., Calcutta Airport. I learnt that the airport gate leading to the Customs enclosure had become almost a free zone with anyone entering and exiting it freely. This had serious implications for the airport security. The airport is only as secure as all its access points and any breach anywhere compromises the whole system. As per the rules, there were only two ways to enter an airport, either through a legitimate ticket for travel or an Airport Entry Permit (AEP). 

I directed the Police personnel to strictly implement the above rule without any exception, regardless of the gate. I was astounded by the backlash from Customs. Their Assistant Commissioners threatened my officers and even their Additional Commissioner wrote a D.O. letter asking me to “stop such practices which was impacting their rules of business.” When I pointed out that I shall not be able to allow anyone in without one of those two documents because that was violative of my “rule of business,” she chose to approach my seniors. 

Additional Commissioner of Customs was very senior to me in rank and rated audience by the high and mighty in the Police. I received a call from a DGP asking how come Calcutta airport had collapsed under my watch. I politely told him that I was as of that moment sitting in the airport and all about me things were bustling along and I definitely would’ve noticed if it had indeed collapsed. He was not convinced and ordered an IGP to look into the matter. I was accordingly summoned by the IGP to explain. 

What had happened was this. Those days, smuggling from Bangkok used to be big. There were these operators from Fancy Market in Kidderpore, the smuggling hub of Calcutta who used to regularly fly to Bangkok and come back with smuggled goods to the full extent of their purchasing power. After arriving at Calcutta airport, they would have no money for paying the Customs duties or the “alternative demands” so they would be allowed to go out of that gate and auction the goods out at the airport itself (the gate would be crowded with touts in sync with the arrival of those flights) and come back with the money to pay. The procedure is that if the legitimate Customs duties were to be paid, the goods needed to be “officially seized,” valued, and later released from the Customs warehouse against payment of the duty amount. This apparently was anathema to the Customs officials because that would obviate any “negotiations” or other dealings. I also offered to accept a third document, i.e., written authorisation by the Customs officials for any re-entry but that too was not acceptable because it would create a paper trail, hence no possible “negotiations.” 

So I went to that Nuremberg trial chaired by the IGP. I had prepared a two-page note detailing the full picture and submitted it for “his kind perusal.” The IGP was flanked by two DIGs and I was seated facing the three of them and shrinking by the minute. While the IGP was reading the note, the two DIGs took turns to berate and abuse me left, right and centre for “not being practical,” for creating friction with other agencies, for making things unnecessarily difficult for all concerned and so on. This went on for a good 10-15 minutes. Then the IGP finished reading the note, looked up and asked, “Agar smugglers ko tight kar raha hai to aap logon ko kya dikkat hai?” Immediately, the two DIGs changed their tune and complimented me for doing such a stellar job. I breathed again. 

Armed with that validation, I went back and hand-picked four officers with unimpeachable integrity to supervise that particular gate (in the four shifts). The Customs officials and the touts threatened to get them eliminated. I deployed visible and substantial police escorts for them to and from their residences. I also found that after the last international flight at around 9.30 PM every day, there used to be a party in the Customs enclosure to distribute the booty and the “negotiated amounts” collected during the day over sumptuous food and booze supplied from a nearby (famous) hotel and the officials used to be in an expansive mood then, expansive enough to throw Rs. 10,000 or so as tips for each of the hotel staff doing the catering. These hotel guys were also entering without any permit. I personally stopped them and again the Customs officials contacted a lot of my seniors on the plea that I was making them starve. However, this time, it didn’t cut any ice with anyone. 

After the airport assignment, I was posted to Calcutta Police which was a leg up. I was happy. But the happiest was the Customs set up at the airport. I believe, when the news of my new assignment filtered in, they burst into a proper Bhangra in celebration. The Airports Authority organised a big farewell for me – it was an eventful tenure, Purulia arms-drop, two almost-hijacks, a grenade incident and so on. All the agencies operating at the airport, with one exception, participated with gusto. Customs officials were conspicuous by their absence.

Ode to an alma mater

It is inevitable that human civilisation will self-destruct at some point in time. Then the cycle will start all over again. Hunting-gathering, rudimentary tools, stone age, bronze age, iron age, nuclear age and so on. At a future date, when they excavate, they might find a beautiful structure at present-day Bannerghatta in Bengaluru. There would be inexplicable stone structures spanning an area of present-day 54,000 sqm. It might look like this:

They will find stone structures like this on the following pattern over 54,000 sqm area:

They will use carbon dating or whatever methods and date the constructions to present day 1973-1983. Gradually, with the help of other artifacts and some imagination, they’ll recreate some of the structures to have looked like:

 

They will be surprised at some of the similarities of the structures to two other structures found quite far away. They wouldn’t know that these latter were called Fatehpur Sikri and Madurai temple today. They will be amazed at the structures’ spatial synthesis and energy efficiency with passive cooling strategies. The facilitation of natural light and ventilation will take their breath away. Every so often, the lines of the architecture will baffle them because they will see sudden changes of scale and occasional breakings of corridors; however, the structure would make sense when taken as a whole. 

What they wouldn’t know is that the whole complex was designed to foster an environment of learning and interaction. If they reconstruct the buildings with lush surroundings they will find the whole complex leaning on a sequence of spatial experiences. The overall sequence of movement – from the lush, open campus to the semi-open corridors and eventually to the more enclosed and protected spaces would generate multiple threshold conditions. These unique locations in the plan would allow the functional spaces to interact and assimilate more freely with the overall theme, creating fluid and easy connections between the spaces for movement and the spaces for work. 

They wouldn’t know the genius of the architect, Balkrishna Vithaldas Doshi for whom, “Architecture was an extension of the body, and it was where the mind dwelt.” Like all Doshi’s creation, this structure, with its harmonious blend of traditional Indian and modern architectural elements would be seen but the underlying philosophy would escape those in the future. They may not know that the design ethos was to create a space that transcended the physical boundaries of buildings, encouraging openness and fluidity, seamlessly integrating indoor and outdoor spaces, facilitating a dialogue between nature and built form. The structure would be representative of architectural norms at a time when the country was on the cusp of embracing modernity. 

They may well surmise a few things, e.g., that it was a place of learning, but they wouldn’t know how, by creating an atmosphere where one didn’t see divides and doors, it promoted a sense of community among the students and faculty. How the courtyards, corridors, and fenestrations were meticulously designed to facilitate natural light and ventilation, creating a conducive atmosphere for education and contemplation. How the inclusive spaces encouraged creativity and interaction. How the campus blended historical inspirations and modern functionality, making it a unique example of how architecture could bridge the past and the present. Or how over a career spanning six decades, Doshi created such a profound impact on the architectural fraternity and society at large that he was awarded the prestigious Pritzker Architecture Prize (frequently referred to as the Nobel prize of architecture) in 2018, becoming the first Indian to receive this honour. 

Above all, they wouldn’t know how the campus and the buildings housed a beacon of academic excellence called IIMB which nourished such a large number of world leaders and how enormously the architecture contributed to that process. They also wouldn’t know that although the institute was already 10 years old then, the author’s batch was the first one in that campus.

[The pathway to excellence]

Being Delulu

My two younger children (twins, a girl and a boy) were born in 1999. I used to call them dot.com kids because that was the period of the dot.com bubble. Being digital natives, they started handling computer keyboards before touching a pen. Now kids of that vintage are called the Generation Z. I had to rejig a lot of my ideas and acceptances to be in line with the changing mores of that generation. So, sleepovers were all too frequent; being glued to mobile phones was normal; best gifts one could give them ranged from game consoles to ipods, and so on. 

Much of the time, our house has been full of their friends, other gen Z kids. Slowly, I realised that they speak in tongues. It’s English but nothing like what we know as the English language. When I first heard my son’s friend say, “I’m bouncing,” I was aghast. Talking of weird behaviour of some anatomical parts? Or about some game? Or was it acrobatics on the trampoline? Later I learnt that he meant he was leaving. Then there were the one-letter words, acronyms and shortened phrases. That’s a big W meant that’s a big win. L meant Loss. IRL meant In Real Life. Delulu meant Delusional or ungrounded in reality. 

I thought I knew the term ‘drip.’ For us, it meant a weak, ineffectual person. Now, it’s almost the reverse – it actually means stylish look. For us, ‘thirsty’ meant grabbing a glass of water. Now it describes a person desperate for attention or validation. ‘Ate’ meant filled one’s belly, now it means doing something with style or impressively. 

Mercifully, some words haven’t changed much. ‘Vibe’ still means overall mood or atmosphere. ‘Low-key’ means understated. We also used ‘slay’ to mean perform exceedingly well. Something ‘hit different,’ when it had a unique and powerful impact. ‘Cringe’ was something embarrassing or awkward. It remains so. 

From time to time, I’m dropping some of the new lingo on my kids’ unsuspecting friends, to the acute ‘cringe’ of my kids. I no longer dress Low-key; I’ve graduated to High-key, with floral prints dominating my wardrobe. My socks are lurid shades of red, electric blue, bottle green and so on. Ditto, my T-shirts; I hardly wear shirts any more, even when I’m teaching a class because quite a few of my students are Gen Z. I wonder if I ‘slay’ them with my ‘drip’ look. Probably I’m being perpetually ‘thirsty,’ (requiring validation all the time). 

Sometime back, I wanted to simp glow-up but IRL, that kinda thing becomes a big L if you can’t vibe with your age. It can look sus to fam. So, while you think you’re lit or slaying with your drip, no fam member thinks you’re snatched. They think you’re being cheugy and delulu. Positively cray. Periodt. 

The above passage, roughly translated to our (old) generation lingo: 

Sometime back, I wanted simply (simp) a positive transformation (glow-up) but in real life (IRL), that kind of thing becomes a big loss (L) if you can’t be in sync with the overall mood (vibe) of your age. It can look suspicious (sus) to family (fam). So, while you think you’re exciting or amazing (lit) or doing exceptionally well (slaying) with your stylish clothes and fashion accessories (drip), no family member thinks  you’re looking amazing (snatched). They think you’re being outdated and uncool (cheugy) and delusional (delulu). Positively crazy (cray). Period, emphasis added (Periodt)! 

No cap (to tell the truth), it’ll feel salty (bitter). 

There is an upside to it also. Heaven forbid, if I ever go to a night club and make a jackass of myself, the bouncer won’t have to do anything. I’ll myself bounce. Fast. Because I know the lingo. 🕺🏻🕺🏻

Some old, some new

 

Some old, some new. 

With the overwhelming response and blessings of the readers, “Police in Blunderland” has now seen a second edition. This edition retains some of the old pieces and contains new pieces from later blogs, newspaper publications and some write-ups not yet published elsewhere. 

Do buy. Following are the options: 

Amazon: 

https://www.amazon.in/dp/B0F2T1G2ZZ/ref=sr_1_1?crid=1ANZIBCRPTLWK&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.UpSC3_w0M54-bZd7hyn7eTK9tnNQHuQhfS4fU_WdXsfZCKSurVxT3z62NzYlPoOO.3pcZ0-yCb7BxUQd3qCCXvxk7rUfkG-y1UV9JSVugIwI&dib_tag=se&keywords=police+in+blunderland&qid=1743158103&sprefix=police+in+blunderland%2Caps%2C243&sr=8-1 

Flipkart:

https://www.flipkart.com/police-in-blunderland/p/itm38758cecf9567?pid=9798895410844&q=bibhuti+dash&store=search.flipkart.com&srno=s_1_3&otracker=AS_Query_HistoryAutoSuggest_1_6_na_na_na&otracker1=AS_Query_HistoryAutoSuggest_1_6_na_na_na&fm=search-autosuggest&iid=ee7e330e-41ad-4cf1-addf-6d1ee85137f4.9798895410844.SEARCH&ppt=sp&ppn=sp&ssid=x8fl27wpq80000001743158203353&qH=e57bc0ff80320b42

Pothi: 

https://store.pothi.com/book/bibhuti-dash-police-blunderland/ 

https://store.pothi.com/book/ebook-bibhuti-dash-police-blunderland/ [e-Book]

[Pothi option is the cheapest - the print version avoids the shipping charges. There is a link for it on the right also.]

For the people outside India, the above links should work; else, pl go to your country’s Amazon or Flipkart website (or Pothi.com) and search by book title or author name (Bibhuti Dash).

 
Do leave a review or rating (good, bad, indifferent), if possible.

Death becomes me

I’m turning 65 this year. Some of my friends and colleagues are no more. Every Fellowship dinner of cadre IPS officers and every school/college reunion brings forth news of some more people one knew but have passed on. Increasingly, my thoughts are turning to death. Mine. 

Death worries people. Lust for life is too great and so is the fear of the unknown because no one knows what happens after death. My father passed away suddenly at the age of 65. It took me a long, long time to come to terms with it. 

It feels sad when news of another death comes in. However, I don’t think I’m afraid of death. When I was diagnosed with Cancer in 2017-18, it was a bolt from the blue. As my knowledge of the disease and treatment scenarios were extremely limited then, there was a certain period of uncertainty. I didn’t know how much time I had and whether I’d live to see another birthday. Since then, I’ve taken each day as a gift. Also, I’ve taken care to tie up the financial aspects so that the family members won’t have to run around too much. 

I go to many palaces, forts, museums and historic structures. I think about all those big and grand people who built or sponsored them. All of them must have felt so important and so powerful. Quite a few of them must have thought of themselves at the moment as invincible, possibly immortal. What were their last days like? Did they realise the futility of it all, or did they prepare for it well? 

With the current progress of science, death is still an unconquered frontier and inevitable. In fact, every day after being born, we progress a little towards death. With that realisation comes a certain acceptance. However, if possible, I’d like to have minimum suffering for myself and others. Some people say that many times, one simply knows when the time has come. I hope, when my time comes, I’ll just go quietly, without fuss and without pain. I also hope, I’ll not live being dependent on others. Death is the last thing I’ll do in life; I want to do it gracefully, preferably in style, not “mewling and puking” and sobbing and crying. Life has many aspects, including death. I’d like to accept death as an aspect of life. 

What would my Obit look like if I were to write it myself? May be: 

"There went a guy who looked serious

But was actually very, very mischievous.

He took life as a bloody joke

His job, his career, his relationships all brushed with that one stroke.

He was occasionally good but mostly mediocre

Didn’t mind being an under-achiever.

Now he’s gone but before going, he reminded

Everyone to eulogise or bitch about him but be even-handed." 

Hindus prescribe that when one visits a temple, one shouldn’t exit immediately after the rituals but sit for a while before doing so and quietly meditate upon a prayer: 

"Anāyāsena maraṇaṃ vinādainyena jīvanaṃ

dehānte tava sānnidhyam dehī me parameśvarama ..."

Translated: 

"Give me death without pain

Grant me a life that I’m not dependent on any one [let nobody has to help me sit up or lie down or feed me; let me not be perverse]

When death comes, let me think of and see only you.

O Lord, kindly grant me these three wishes."

I’m not particularly religious but do respect the beliefs of all religions. So, whenever I visit any place of worship, be it a temple or a church or a gurudwara or a mosque, I try to spend some time just sitting there and thinking of the above. 

I like reading and rereading a poem of Emily Dickinson: 

"Because I could not stop for Death –

He kindly stopped for me –

The Carriage held but just Ourselves –

And Immortality.

 

We slowly drove – He knew no haste

And I had put away

My labor and my leisure too,

For His Civility –

 

We passed the School, where Children strove

At Recess – in the Ring –

We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –

We passed the Setting Sun –

 

Or rather – He passed Us –

The Dews drew quivering and Chill –

For only Gossamer, my Gown –

My Tippet – only Tulle –

 

We paused before a House that seemed

A Swelling of the Ground –

The Roof was scarcely visible –

The Cornice – in the Ground –

 

Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet

Feels shorter than the Day

I first surmised the Horses' Heads

Were toward Eternity –"