Coffee with the Chief Minister

The last occasion I was in a meeting with a Chief Minister was sometime back in the year 2013. In this post that I am holding at the Secretariat I get to sit in meetings held at the level of the Chief Minister though not regularly. It is only when some kind of a disaster happens that we have such meetings. I even attended a meeting of the Uttarakhand Chief Minister in Dehra Dun where I was sent after the floods in Kedarnath. However, after formation of Telangana I hadn’t had the opportunity to attend any meeting with the Chief Minister. A couple of weeks ago I missed a meeting on the drought because I was stuck in traffic. However last week I managed to be a meeting with the Chief Minister in his official chamber in the Secretariat where only a select few are allowed.
One gets a feeling of dread as well as a feeling of excitement when meeting the Chief Minister. One gets to see the top man in action and also see how capable he is. One CM during a meeting after one particularly ghastly road accident involving a Volvo bus had us dumbfounded with a question he asked. He had asked, ‘What is the velocity of the injuries?’ Some quick thinking by a senior officer present spared the CM from embarrassment. On an earlier occasion the same CM had asked what IMD stood for. (India Meteorological Department)

Anyway, a little more than a fortnight ago a team of officials from the Centre had visited the State to tour the drought affected areas. After their visits to the districts they had to make a courtesy call on the CM. I had wondered if I could tag along the team for the meeting with the CM. I was waiting for such an opportunity to come face to face with the CM. Here I must confess that I am more than a bit overawed by the Chief Minister (Sri K. Chandrasekhara Rao) not because he is the CM because he happens to be a self-confessed voracious reader among other things. That and the fact that he has single handedly achieved the state of Telangana. I wanted to see him in person and listen to him talk. On an earlier occasion I had wished him when he passed a few feet away from where I was standing.

On the chosen day we were told that the appointment with the CM was at five in the evening. I almost did not make it when the security person at the door of the CM’s chamber did not let me inside. Everyone had gone inside and I was stopped. As luck would have it a senior official came out. There is one habit that I have that came in good use then. I always make it a point to wish senior officials I know by name though they may have no idea who I was. I guess this officer recognized me and told the security person to let me in. When I stepped inside the CM’s chamber I saw that everyone was already seated. The CM lifted up his head when he saw me enter. I greeted him with folded palms and after he acknowledged my greeting with a nod I noiselessly took my seat at the very back.

In the nearly half hour meeting I got the chance to confirm for myself some of the things I had heard about the Chief Minister. I had heard that the CM studies everything about an issue in great depth before speaking on it. So when he explained some of the strategies (Short term and long term) for managing the drought in the country I was surprised how clear he was about what he was talking about. During my five years in this Department I hadn’t met anyone who had such a clear idea regarding tackling drought.

What happened next revealed that the CM indeed is a well-read person. Of course, there were books on the table before him. Someone talked about cloud seeding and another person said that potassium nitrate was used in Cloud seeding. I thought something was wrong about the discussion. Before I could realize what it was the CM in a calm voice corrected the person saying that it was ‘silver iodide’ that was used in cloud seeding and not potassium nitrate. There was embarrassed silence among the officers present. I could count at least two officers who were IIT grads.
I had also heard that the CM was a gracious host and I had also seen on TV how he receives his guests. In earlier such meetings of other Chief Ministers even as the meeting was going on uniformed waiters with trays piled high with snacks and beverages would enter the hall and start putting the plates on the table before each participant. There was no choice and you had to eat and drink whatever was offered.
But that day the CM asked the leader of the Government of India team, ‘Aap kya lenge? Tea, Coffee, buttermilk or coconut water?’ Only after knowing what each guest wanted did he ring the bell to call his personal attendant and tell him what the guests wanted. That’s how I ended up having coffee with the Chief Minister. However I couldn’t help noticing that there weren’t any bookshelves in the CM’s room that had a simple décor save a wall sized TV screen.

It was a rare treat watching the CM brief the visiting officers about the power, irrigation, drinking water situation in the state. He also told them what the Government was doing for the citizens of the newest state of the country. I could see that the guests were impressed with the CM’s knowledge and his speech. I was also very pleased that I got the opportunity to sit in the meeting. I was more pleased when I saw myself in a photo of the meeting that appeared the next day on the front page of almost all the vernacular papers.

Friday Dopuble Post: 2- On Getting an Award

Last Friday, on the occasion of AP Formation Day, I got an Íncentive Award’’ that I had the privilege of receiving from the Chief Minister himself at a public function. It was a big moment for me and I was happy especially since the award included twenty thousand rupees along with a certificate. This was the biggest award in my almost twenty years of service and I am very pleased that I got it since I can now retire with some satisfaction. The irony is that I never wanted to be in the Government service in the first place and I still do not want to. But since I’ve been here for two decades I guess I will hang on for another couple of years and then maybe take voluntary retirement. Afterwards, I want to travel and also write.

The Sunday before the previous Sunday you should have seen me, or more particularly, my face. You’d have seen the sullen face of someone who had been working round the clock for almost a week without a break, without anything of a social or a family life, of someone filled with resentment for having forced to work on holidays also, especially Sunday, of someone who isn’t eating properly at the proper times, of someone who isn’t sleeping well. It was the face of someone who was pissed off with what his work was extracting from him. Sunday was the day when this anger and resentment peaked since I was told I had to come to the office for the whole day. The week long rains and floods had turned my life upside down what with hundreds of calls to attend and hundreds of chores to manage. I did not mind all this because there were people out there actually suffering due to the continuous heavy downpour and floods. I did not know what was making me angry. Sometime recently when I sat and listed out the probable reasons I realized it was my mobile phone that was making me angry. Every time I got a call on the mobile phone or had to make a call I had to go out of my house and do it which filled me with unusual anger against Airtel. I do not understand how they can claim to offer coverage all over the country when I cannot get signals in the heart of the city.

Anyway, after I heard the news about the incentive award I calmed down. But I am not able to stop thinking how anyone thought I deserved the award when I did not do anything extraordinary and just did what I was expected to do.

The ‘Phailin’

I’ve been a little more than three years in this department and have handled a couple of cyclones (Jal, Thane and Nilam) but hadn’t felt so nervous or tense as I was last week when ‘Phailin’ was on its way towards the State. I spent a hectic week at the office making and taking calls from so many people, attending meetings called by the Chief Secretary, the Minister and also the Chief Minister, preparing notes for these meetings which made me more tense than I usually am even on normal days. Another thing was that due to Dasara festival we had three days of holidays in a row and all those three days I was in the office.

Anyway, whenever there is a major weather event like a depression or a cyclone developing in the sea surrounding the country, the India Meteorological Department or the IMD in short, sends bulletins regarding the formation, movement, intensity, and other information to the States likely to be affected. On October, 8th we got the first IMD bulletin about a weather system developing in the Bay of Bengal and over the next few days the bulletins became more frequent as the low pressure system developed into a ‘very severe cyclonic storm’ and the bulletins were upgraded from Orange to Red category indicating danger. With the increasing frequency of the bulletins of the IMD and the forecast therein which said the cyclone ‘Phailin’ would most likely hit the coast between our State and Odisha our nervousness increased. We warned everyone we could and took all measures possible to face the cyclone. Even the Prime Minister’s office was monitoring the cyclone ‘Phailin’ which had by then played out by the media which was a good thing because people on the coast took precautions. In AP 1.3 lakh people were evacuated in Srikakulam, Vizianagaram and Visakhapatnam districts. We had two IAF helicopters on standby. There were five columns of the Army on way to these districts to help out in case the State’s resources weren’t enough. We had the NDRF too.

However, much to everyone's relief, Phailin did not cause much damage as feared and resulted in one unfortunate death and also some loss to crops like coconut, cashewnut, vegetables in Srikakulam district only. Now the relief work going on and also the process of identifying who lost what and suffered what damage so that it can be compensated. For once, everyone appreciated the Government, the IMD and others. It is the Collectors in the districts who have to be appreciated because they were on the field and took decisions that saved lives and also property. The Collector of Ganjam did not sleep for four days. IMD should get all the credit and appreciation for standing its ground with its prediction that was proved right ultimately. Other Western meteorological agencies created unnecessary panic with their wrong predictions and I am proud that for once IMD stumped them.

Trip No. 6 Dehradun

I am in Dehradun since eight days in connection with the Kedarnath\badrinath floods relief work. There is a lot I have to tell but do not have the time. I will post next week.

Kaar Ke Side Effects- 1

It is exactly seven months and I am still (hesitantly) in the No. 2 seat in the office. At first I had thought the arrangement would be for a few days or a week at the most. But the days have turned into weeks and the weeks have turned into months, six months in fact which is more than half a year. Half a year isn’t very long but if one considers the fact that I've been in this posting for a little more than two years it is long enough. Never in the nineteen years of my service had I dreamt that one day I’d be shouldering more responsibility than is due. A couple of days back I learnt the welcome news that someone is being posted in the No. 2 seat. I am feeling terribly relieved and feel like an enormous rock has been lifted from my shoulders. I am eagerly awaiting to go back to being No. 5, not that it is any less burdensome. But it’ll seem less intimidating sitting in my other seat in a tiny cabin that has a window with a nice view of the Hussain Sagar lake. In fact after shifting to a new block I've not spent more than half hour in that cabin. In the next few days I will be comfortably ensconced in that glass cabin looking out at the placid lake. As No. 2 I guess I've had a fairly smooth run not considering the usual irritants common in any organization. I've sat in some really important meetings with important people and got the opportunity to observe very closely how major decisions are taken, had been to Delhi on a couple of occasions, and once to Tirupati, been on television, and also had my name in the newspapers. Last week Keshav, my close friend, called me to tell me that he had read my name in The Hindu that he read in Goa. It gave me quite a thrill learning folks in Goa could have read my name though I’d rather my name gets into the papers for my novel. I will miss none of it, except possibly one thing- the car. I’ll be lying if I say that won’t miss the car. It’s done quite a few things to me which I will write in a separate post later. But I do not mind going back to riding to office on my trusted Hero Honda motorbike. What I would miss most is the 15-20 minutes of time I had on the ride to office during which I could read. I’m astounded to realize that during the six months that I had been No. 2, I've managed to finish six books reading for just twenty minutes in the car. I've finished Helene Hanff’s ’84 Charing Cross Road’, Anthony Bourdain’s ‘Kitchen Confidential’, P.Sainath’s ‘Everybody Loves a Good Drought’, Stephen Fry’s ‘Stephen Fry in America’, Joan Didion’s ‘Slouching Towards Bethlehem’ and also ‘Best Food Writing 2007’ that I read in the car only .

On TV, and in the Papers

If you had not switched on the television at seven in the morning last Thursday and had not watched Doordarshan you better be prepared to spend the rest of your life feeling utterly miserable, so unlucky you are. Tsk. I can only pity you for missing an once-in-a-lifetime event. It is your bad luck not having watched what I think is my only appearance on TV as a talking head. You’ve really missed watching me live at my bureaucratic best in appearance and also, performance. I feel sad for you that you will never get the opportunity again, at least not on DD. As it is, I break into a sweat at the very thought of meeting strangers or facing an audience of more than three people. Imagine how many liters of sweat I must have perspired on being told I have to face a tv camera. My first worry wasn’t how I’d get through the talk show but about how I’d appear and how many people would switch off the television the moment I appear on their screens. In case you did not know or hadn't bothered to check the picture on my profile, I’m not exactly Shahid Khan but an almost 50 years old guy seriously lacking in the looks department. In short, I am not terribly photogenic but there was no way I could avoid being on the show what with the cyclone ‘Nilam’ wreaking havoc in the State. I was to inform the audience (if there’s any) what the government was doing. I think I was on the screen for approximately 17.4 seconds (in a program that lasted thirty minutes) and the rest of the time the camera seemed to have been focused on three other people including the anchor. I do not know what message I managed to convey to the public about the measures taken by the government in the face of the cyclone. But I got the message that on these kind of talk shows it is the anchor who is right, and it is the anchor who gets the most screen time. It is natural because he is the anchor. Anyway, judging from the fact that neither I nor DD were flooded with calls shows that the show seems to have gone completely unnoticed which also means that not many people got to see me. No one I know seems to have watched the show. Even my own family did not bother to watch it which speaks volumes about my looks. Ahem. Apart from this historic and rare appearance on TV, I also made it to the newspapers. Were it not for ‘Nilam’ cyclone ‘The Hindu’ may not have bothered to mention my name in their columns. Last Sunday my name was mentioned in a report about the damages wrought by the cyclone in the State. It carried my designation as well which is bigger than my name. They also got it completely wrong. I do not mind though. For a couple of days I was flooded with calls from BBC, CNN, Wall Street Journal and something called the German Press, asking me for updates on the cyclone damages. I do not know if I made it to the international press also. But it was an experience that merits an entire post. But next time I'm the news I hope it will be after my novel gets published.

The No.2's Car

It is more than a month since I’ve become the No. 2 in my office. Though I’ve become used to some of the perks that come with that post there’s one thing I’m yet to get over. I still cannot believe that I’m being driven to and from the office in a big car. Since as far as I know I’ve been only riding bikes to office all through my career and never once did I imagined that one day I would be going by a car. Since I ride a bike it used to be a vague sort of dream to sit in the back seat of a car and read the papers like some of the people I watch while on the road. I used to wonder what it would take to reach that position but did not give it much thought. Now I am doing exactly the same.

Of all the perks of being No. 2 the only one I am enjoying immensely is the facility of being driven in the car. To someone who has to negotiate the traffic in Hyderabad on a bike in the hot sun it is nothing short of a miracle. Everyday morning the car waits for me before the gate while I leisurely get ready. It struck me in the first couple of days that I could do something productive in the twenty minutes it takes me to get to the Secretariat. I decided I would read since I haven’t been much reading of late. So I am carrying a book along in my bag. I am reading quite a few pages of the book but I guess I am reading the wrong book. It is a book that I feel one shouldn’t read in the air-conditioned comfort of a Honda City. I am reading P.Sainath’s ‘Everybody Loves a Good Drought’ during my daily journey in the car. If you’ve read the book you will know why I feel guilty.

I know I may not be No. 2 for long and am actually waiting to be back to being No.5 which is more comfortable but no less arduous as being the No.2. Being No. 2 is different as I found out the other day on a trip to Delhi. A couple of weeks ago my boss told me to attend a meeting at Delhi in his place. It made me more jittery than flattered to represent my boss at a meeting. The meeting was in one of the spacious halls of Vigyan Bhavan and I sat in the front row rigid with anxiety. All around me were senior officers from all over the country and we were being addressed by some very top shots of the Government of India. I couldn’t breathe freely until the meeting ended before lunch. I was glad I wasn’t asked how the situation was in the state. But it felt pretty good attending the meeting though I did not open my mouth to say anything. Except a handful none of the others too spoke. On the plane back home I wondered about my incredible luck-the car, the trips to Delhi by plane and of course, an allowance for being No.2. I couldn’t ask for more in this job.

The Power and Glory of Being No. 2

In the novel ‘The Man’ by Irving Wallace, someone down the pecking order becomes the President of the United State in strange circumstances. Something similar happened in our office recently though the No. 1 is still around and there was no accident or anything like what happens in the novel. Almost overnight from somewhere being No. 5 I became No. 2 in the office. The interesting thing is that apart from being No. 5, I am also No. 2 which is something which happens only in the government.

Sometime last week the No. 2 in the office left abruptly. The No. 3 position was vacant. The No. 4 was out of action since a long time because of an accident. There’s someone between No. 4 and No. 5 but I was chosen as No. 2 for reasons I am yet to comprehend. Never had I dreamt that I would take such a quantum leap up the ladder. After a week’s experience as No. 2 all I can say it is no joke being a heartbeat away from being No. 1. Not that I can ever hope to become No.1.It is impossible. So far it has been a smooth ride but I am eager to get back to my No. 5 status because I am not comfortable with a lot of things that come with being No. 2 in our office.

The responsibilities of being No. 2 are rather heavy. But there are a lot of perks that come with the No. 2 job. I have a large room with an AC, an anteroom with an attached toilet and a bed in case I feel like taking a nap, a television set, two telephones, two personal attendants, a PA with his own room and of course, tea and coffee whenever I want. Then there’s the car. It isn’t an ordinary white Ambassador car that I am travelling now but a Honda City. It has two drivers who work in shifts. I had never imagined that I would get driven to work in such a big car.

I keep forgetting that I am the No. 2 and on entering the office go to my old No. 5 seat and spend some time there before being reminded by the personal attendant about the files waiting for me. There are usually mountains of files I have to go through and sign as No. 2. There are too many things to attend at once, especially meetings. Then as No. 2 almost everyone in the office is subordinate to me which means I get too much of respect (most of it false) if I venture out of my room. People make way for me like I am the Pope, they open doors for me like I can’t open them myself and generally treat me in a way that makes me very nervous.

Apart from myself there are others too who do not seem to be very happy at my elevation as No. 2. It shows in their face when they come to me with files with an expression that says they cannot believe I am the No. 2. At times like that and in their presence I begin to feel somewhat unworthy myself. Since I am in the No. 2 seat temporarily I cannot really assert myself very much. The only bright thing about being No. 2, apart from the perks, is the fact that I will get additional pay for being an impostor. But the downside is that I haven’t even once dropped in at Adarsh or Paradise or any Irani joint for chai on the way home. I’m getting to drink Irani chai only on Sundays at Abids.

The LA Diaries- 3

Familiarity Breeds Respect

Two weeks is a long enough period for people who are coming face to face everyday to become familiar. The plainclothes cop at the entrance to the VIP Gallery in the Assembly has now started wishing me with a polite ‘Good Morning, Sir.’ With that respect come other concessions- my bag isn’t checked and I am let in after I leave my mobile phone behind. At the main entrances, the cops however keep changing. Everyone has to pass through the metal detectors and also get frisked. What worries me is the way I am waved through the moment I open my bag. The notebooks and the books inside perhaps give them the impression that I am not the sort to carry a bomb or anything like that. I am not asked to open the numerous other pockets that my bag has. One can easily get past with other stuff in the lunch box. That is a scary thought.

Stand Up Lunch

Curiously, the LA takes a tea break but there’s no lunch break. Not only do I have a hurried breakfast in the mornings at home before rushing to the LA, I am also compelled to have lunch at odd hours and in odd places. Since the canteen is always full and other places to have lunch in peace are hard to find I am finding it difficult. I am tempted to sit in the lawns of the Public Gardens and eat my lunch but I have to walk a bit and find a place in the shade. The other day I had, or rather was given, just ten minutes to finish my lunch. The lunchbox was in my bike which itself was parked somewhere in a corner of a parking lot. I did not feel bad about having lunch there because at least I had it on time even though I had to eat standing up under a tree.

Tying the Knot

The same day after lunch and while hurrying back into the LA a man in some sort of white and blue uniform stopped me. He held a strip of cloth in his hand and asked, ’Sir, can you tie it for me?’ I then realized he was one of the drivers of the four brand new Volvo buses of the Tourism Department parked inside. The drivers of these new Volvos were smartly dressed in uniforms -white shirts, blue trousers, a peaked cap and a tie.

I do not know how he surmised that I’d know how to knot a tie but he guessed right. It’s been more than thirty years since I last wore a tie. I studied for two years in a convent school where the tie was part of the uniform. I do not remember who taught me the half knot but for the two years in was in high school I wore the tie for just an hour in the morning. That was thirty two years ago but the other day I realized I haven’t forgotten much.

I did not want to disappoint the driver so took the tie from him. I put the tie around his neck and managed without much difficulty to tie the half knot. I thought it was perfect except that the one end of the tie was longer than the broad end which is supposed to be longer. I unravelled it and retied it. This time I couldn’t push the knot up the collar. I had to struggle a bit while the driver looked sideways at the other drivers and smiled like I was his valet helping him dress up. But he seemed grateful after I finished. He said ‘Thank you’ and shook my hand like I had saved his life.

The L.A. Diaries- 2

The first week at LA went off pretty much without any event worth mentioning save for the last day (Friday) when the Budget was presented. Friday happened to be the only day any kind of business was transacted in the LA since from Monday onwards the House was repeatedly adjourned. When the House is not functioning for hours on end it is pretty boring to sit and wait for it to meet again. The adjournments sometimes stretched for as long as three hours which can be terribly boring for those who have to sit through the sessions. But I am one who isn’t easily bored since I have my own weaoons to get over any kind of boredom- BOOKS.

During the lengthy adjournments, while the others sat chatting I sat reading. I almost finished Sarah Turnbull’s ‘Almost French’ and got started on P. Sainath’s ‘Everybody Loves A Good Drought’ that might take a couple of days to finish. I have listed out a lengthy list of books that I plan to read during the long Budget session till it ends on March 29. Since I have no other choice but to read I plan to read some titles that I haven’t read till now. Leaving home in a rush early in the morning without even a proper breakfast is a small price to pay for the uninterrupted hours I get to read.


Previously I used to hang around the main lobbies of the Assembly hall but during this session I am spending more time in the galleries from where one can watch the proceedings clearly. The galleries are on the first floor and one can look down on the main assembly hall through a glass partition. From the galleries one can see the Legislators going around the proceedings. The problem is that the whole building is centrally airconditioned which makes it difficult for the likes of me to sit inside for long.

On Friday when the Budget was being presented not only the press gallery was crowded there were a couple of VIPs. There was the Chief Secretary, the DGP, and the City Police Commissioner seated in another tiny enclosure meant for officers right inside the Assembly hall. Everyone listened attentively to the Budget speech however. It was the first time I was listening to a Budget speech so I too paid attention. Afterwards, the House was adjourned for three days which was a big relief for me.

The L.A. Diaries-1

Come February and it is time for the Budget sessions of the Legislatures in the country. The LA in the title of the post means the Legislative Assembly and not Los Angeles where I’d have preferred to go instead of spending almost a month and half attending the Assembly sessions. I have been going to the Assembly on and off since 2007 but since the past two years it has become a regular feature. Except for the government blokes like me who are assigned duty there, everyone else seems pretty excited to be there, more so the cops. This time there seemed to be more cops than all legislators, media people, and officials put together. I would say there were about five cops for each civilian there.

So, with nothing much and nothing better to do than watch the people around me I decided to concentrate on the cops. One cannot do anything else when one is surrounded by cops of all types on all sides. They were everywhere more so in the canteen. There were the SPF (Special Protection Force) cops at the exits and entrances, the regular uniformed cops of Hyderabad City Police inside, and even the traffic cops in their whites. There were the gunmen of the legislators with their pistols, carbines, sten guns swarming all over the place especially the canteen. There were even the NSG commandoes. Most of the cops had walkie talkies in their hands and went around importantly appearing busy.

But most of the cops, especially the gunmen have nothing to do except hang around. They lounge around in the cars of their legislators or Ministers until the sessions are over. Almost all the cops do little except watch people or crack jokes among themselves which is one side others rarely get to see. Not only the Ministers and legislators other top cops too have their own gun men. Some of the really top cops have a guard or two following them. And the bigger the cop, larger the entourage. The other day I saw one such guard holding the big cops’ baton and mobile phone leading the way, brushing aside others like the top cop can’t find his way around.

I’ve begun to feel jealous of these cops especially the gunmen because they do not have anything to do. In contrast, attending the sessions is putting me under a lot of strain. I have to leave home early and sit through the sessions which are, frankly, terribly boring sometimes. Then I have to get back to the office and stay late in case there’s a question posted that we have to give an answer right away. It has thrown my entire routine into disarray affecting my social and family life. The sessions stretch right upto the end of March, the same month when my kid would be writing his annual exams. I like to be around to help him in his preparation but this time I guess he has to go it alone. Such are the things some of us blokes in the government have to go through.

On Cyclone Watch and a Dramatic Rescue

A Happy New Year to You All

Quite ironically even as we were putting the final touches to a report on the drought in the State to be sent to the Central Government there came the warning from the Met Department that a major cyclone was on its way. Initially it was forecast that it was only a deep depression but later the warning was upgraded to a cyclone called ‘Thane’. As soon as the warning bulletins began to arrive we started our own preparations. When the warning bulletins said that the cyclone could grow into a severe cyclonic storm with wind speeds going up to 150 kmph we decided to go on round the clock alert which meant night duties for all of us.

I was on night duty on Thursday night and went home for just an hour for dinner and a change of clothes before coming back to office. Until midnight everything seemed normal while I sat working on a drought report. Just when I decided to lie down the fax machine spat out a message from a coastal district. The message said that six fishing boats with thirty fishermen were missing at sea and sought assistance from the Navy for large vessels as Coast Guard ships were unable to do so. The procedure here is to send a message to the Ministry of Home Affairs Control Room in Delhi to direct the Navy. The District administration had approached the Navy directly which wasn’t the right way. But anyway we sent a message to Delhi at midnight. It would be of comfort to learn that there is a round the clock control room in the Nation’s capital at all times for such situations. After we sent the message I rested for a couple of hours and when I woke up I learnt that a Navy Dornier had already made a sortie to check up on the fishermen.

There are some people who risk their lives everyday in their professions to make a living and fishermen are one such category. Everyday they venture out into the treacherous seas not really knowing if they will return alive. When I called up the officer in the district I learnt that the fishermen on one boat had spent the night in the sea on the bottom of their boat which had turned over. Imagine spending a full night in the dark in a rough sea not knowing when you will go under. The lucky thing was that later in the day they were all rescued by Navy helicopters and INS Dega. Another two boats had drifted to far away places and reached the shore safely. The next day it was all in the papers about the dramatic rescue.

However, we were on tenterhooks for three days wondering where the cyclone would hit. About five days before ‘Thane’ actually crossed the coast the reports said that it would cross the coast somewhere between Chennai and Nellore in AP. The satellite maps showed the path and the forecast was that ‘Thane’ would cross the coast somewhere between Nellore coast and Chennai. It is amazing how the India Meteorological Department is able to track the cyclone from its inception to its end with the help of the weather satellites. It went as predicted and ‘Thane’ missed AP and crossed the coast near Puducherry in Tamil Nadu. Around forty people were killed in TN and in AP there were three deaths- two of fishermen and another of an old woman who died when a tree got uprooted in the heavy winds and fell on her house. Many boats were damaged but there weren’t many casualties as we feared. One reason could be that there was ample time to warn the people along the coast and everyone in the Government right up to the CM monitored everything. The media too took a lead in making the public aware of the dangers of ‘Thane’ and its aftermath which helped things.

With ‘Thane’ 2011 came to an end and I hope 2012 would be uneventful.

On Duty at the Assembly

Many in AP can be forgiven for being under the impression that is a cushy 10 to 5 job for the people who work in the Secretariat. I too had a similar impression until I too became a Secretariat staffer last year. The Department where I joined is one where there are no fixed timings, no fixed work or anything like that. One has to stay long hours, do everything assigned and sometimes more than that, and attend scores of meetings which leaves little time for other things in life. However, it isn’t the same every day but this is more or less the pattern in general. But there’s always something going on. Right now there is a drought in the state, a severe one that not many who live in urban areas might be aware of. This was what dominated the Legislature sessions for five days last week. Unlike last time I was assigned duties at the Legislative Assembly during the current sessions. Being a legislator might have its own share of fun but being a government employee isn’t especially when the legislatures are in session.

I missed the first day because my pass wasn’t ready. The second day onwards and for the next three days I had to reach the Assembly by nine in the morning. One of the high points about attending the sessions at the Legislative Assembly in Hyderabad apart from hanging around the beautiful, historic buildings is the food in the canteen inside. Most of the days I had breakfast there in the company of a variety of people. More than the MLA’s there are the gunmen who accompany them. They are all over the place dressed in safari suits, some carrying their sten guns, walkie talkie sets and some with their pistols hidden under their lapels. The cops in the dark blue safaris were the constables while the ones in cream colored safari suits were the inspectors. Then there were the marshals in the same dress but with a red band tied to their upper arms.

Apart from cops, officials, legislators and their hangers on there are the press people present in the assembly premises. There were a couple of familiar faces from the national and regional press but I could not recognise the rest of the crowd. There were other officials clutching files and appearing nervous. It is a nervous time that we have because we never know what gets asked for. We have to be ready with all details on our fingertips if not in the papers we carry. Since there was a discussion on drought I brought along a lot of stuff in case anyone wanted to know more about the drought here. It was one reason why I could bring along only one book.

The Assembly is more crowded than the Council where I was on duty the last time. One gets to see all the Ministers, some famous MLAs and top officials one normally does not get to see on other days which isn’t exactly a fun thing because most of them go around with grim faces like the entire burden of humanity is on their shoulders.

Since the Assembly met on Sunday too needless to say I missed my weekly visit to Abids to look for books. However since I had taken along a book now and then I sat in the canteen by myself and read Robert B Parker’s ‘Rough
Weather’ whenever I got the time. I managed to finish in two days. It takes a huge toll to wait nervously for nearly the entire day in the Assembly. On the last day, the day of the no-confidence motion the sessions went on until 1-30 am but I did not hang around till then. I left at half past nine.

It was hard missing the trip to Abids on Sunday but then I am planning to compensate for it by dropping in at a second hand bookstore and picking up a book. It wasn’t that I did not get a book since I got Dan Brown’s ‘Digital Fortress’ from Daniel the other day. The other compensation was reading “Literary Review’ in The Hindu in the evening on Sunday since in the morning the paper was delivered late and I had to rush. More about it in another post.

Update on Hyderabad Book Fair:

I was quite relieved to learn that the Hyderabad Book Fair is back at People’s Plaza on Necklace Road instead of the Nizam College Grounds which was the venue before it was postponed. It means that I can visit the Book Fair on my way home more often than I had planned. The Book Fair is another week away but I’ve already begun the countdown.

The Man with Two Mont Blancs

Many people are under the impression that government employees do not work or have a comfortable 9 to 5 routine without any hassles. Nothing can be far from the truth. If one happens to be working in the Secretariat and especially in a Department like the one I am in, there are no fixed timings, no holidays, and no peace of mind either, most of the time. Another hair raising thing is that, out of the blue, you will be told to prepare a report and meet someone very high up, on a holiday with just an hour’s notice. Something like that happened to me last Sunday minutes after I had returned from a nice, relaxed time watching the sunrise on the Necklace Road.

I was told I had to come to the office, prepare a report and show it to a top official who too had come to the office on the Sunday. Normally, I get irritated but on Sunday I was in a different state of mind. I set off for the office after breakfast wondering if I would be able to go to Abids later in the afternoon. The preparation of the report might take at the most an hour and I thought I’d be out of the office by noon. The thought that I might be able to spend a couple of hours at Abids before going home for lunch made me work on the report faster. The report in my hand I accompanied one of my bosses to the top official, so at the top that he has three people handling the phones in his office.

Many believe that bureaucrats are not only boring but also boring dressers. But some, especially those at the top, wear real classy clothes complete with classy accessories. The officer I went to meet turned out to be such a person. He was dignity personified. He wore sober but elegant clothes but it did not catch my attention as much as the two Mont Blancs in his pocket did. Now, it is very, very rare to come across Mont Blanc sporting people in Hyderabad. Though I am aware that a few bureaucrats have a weakness for good pens I hadn’t so far met anyone who had a Mont Blanc in the pocket.

Though it may sound a bit too far fetched, I believe that those who write with fountain pens are a different breed altogether. They look at the world with a different eye. This officer I went to meet not only asked me to sit but he also offered tea. It is not the usual custom for top officials to ask others not of their rank to sit so I was a bit taken aback. Not only that he looked at me like I was his equal when I explained some points in the report. I wonder how he would have viewed me if I had my Mont Blanc in the pocket.

Though I was glad that I had met a gentlemanly officer I was a bit low that I couldn’t get to do my weekly bookhunt at Abids. It was too late by the time I got home and I also missed ‘Just Books’ on NDTV Profit. Some days aren’t just perfect.

Behind the Scenes of a Rescue

For all those who get the impression that people in the government, especially in state government, are slow, indifferent, and have thick skins will perhaps change their minds after they read about something what we did last week. What we did last week wasn’t unusual for us in this department but at the same time wasn’t so common. It was also another occasion I got an idea of what lives cops, doctors and all those who work in such professions lead. It was also something that made me a bit proud about my colleagues in the state government. Last week, because of the government’s swift response, three people perhaps lived to see another day.

On Saturday evening I was just about to reach home when I got a call on my mobile. They wanted me back at the office. It was almost eight and I just had a long day at the office and was looking forward to an early dinner and going to bed early as I felt a fever develop. I was told there was a message from one of the districts about people trapped in a river and who had to be rescued. The air force had to be called in, and for those who do not know, such a rescue just doesn’t happen like that. There is a procedure for it which has to be followed no matter what.


To cut a long story short, I returned to office. When I got to the office and had it opened, the message was from Karimnagar about three shepherds trapped after water was released suddenly from a full dam. They could only be airlifted from the swift waters. I had three people in the office to help me. We quickly typed out a message to the control room at Delhi at about half past eight asking for assistance. We called the air force people and gave them the same message. We told the district people that we had passed on their message. In less than half hour Delhi contacted the air force and gave the go ahead for the rescue by the IAF. But it could be done only in the morning since helicopters do not fly in the night. Our jobs done we went back home. There was another hitch which one of my bosses solved by sheer persistence until late in the night.

Next day morning I learnt that even before the IAF choppers took off the district administration got hold of boats and rescued two people. Only one guy couldn’t be rescued by the boat and was left marooned. Only the choppers who got there soon after picked him up and brought him to safety. I had a fear that by morning I would get the news that the three people had been washed away in the darkness. But the story had a happy ending with the three people being rescued.

On Monday there were heaps of messages lying around- the message from Delhi to IAF, the message from IAF to us about the rescue, the message from the district people about how the three people were rescued. I learnt that the local revenue officials spent the whole night by the side of the canal trying to be keep up the morale of the three people out there in the middle of the fast flowing and dangerous waters. We did not do much except transmit the message and I think it is these government people in Karimnagar who deserve the credit.

It felt good to have played a small and insignificant part in the rescue of people who you don’t know and people you may not ever meet.

An Unexpected Encounter

How is one expected to feel on coming face to face with someone one’s helped to be arrested? I had thought I would come across this person, only in the safe confines of a court in the reassuring presence of cops, judges and lawyers, he in the accused’s box and myself in the witness box. But I had not expected such an unexpected and premature encounter with the senior cop arrested by a team of Anti Corruption cops of which I was an undeniable part a long time ago.

More than two and half years ago, in December, 2008 to be exact, I was to become, quite by accident, the prime Government witness (by virtue of my seniority, rank and also the fact that I’d drawn the statement of proceedings) a civilian member of anti-corruption cops tracking a corrupt official. The operation resulted in the arrest of a senior policeman of the rank of an Assistant Commissioner of Police on a busy street after a dramatic chase which must count as one of the high points of my career. Given the circumstances under which he was caught red-handed accepting a bribe of fifty thousand rupees, while on duty wearing his uniform and in his official vehicle, I thought the cop was a goner and had not expected to see him for a long, long time. I thought it would be years before he would be allowed to wear the uniform and put on duty.

But there he was, in full uniform complete with pistol in its holster, looking a bit fatter, on duty at the Legislative Council. He sat at the entrance gates through which I had to pass. There was no way I could escape his eyes because he was watching over other cops frisking the visitors. When I first saw him I had the uncomfortable realization that, like elephants, cops have long memories. In fact, all cops are trained to remember faces. I wondered if he would remember my face after two and half years. If I were in his place I would certainly not forget the face of someone who was present when I was arrested in such a dramatic manner. In fact no one with even the minutest sense of shame would have forgotten any face that stared at him while he was being arrested. But it looked like this cop did not even recognize me. I wondered if it wasn’t the same cop but when I saw the name on the badge on his chest I knew I was not wrong. This cop was the same one who was introduced to me and who sat before me while I recorded his statement, the same cop who was later sent to a lock up on the same night he was arrested. I couldn’t believe I was there that night, a witness to his complete humiliation by fellow policemen when they led him away to the jail.


As I neared the gates of the Legislative Council and stood before the metal detector I had visions of the cop drawing out his pistol, pumping bullets into my chest and laughing even as I lay bleeding to death. Nothing of that sort happened though as I passed through without looking at him. I knew he was watching me while I was patted down but strangely what was in my mind was how many people around me knew the cop in their midst had spent time in jail.

My only guess is that he must have spent some time in jail, had been suspended and must have requested to be put on duty until the court proved him guilty. It’s been more than three weeks since my daily encounters with this corrupt cop but not once did he give a sign that he had recognized me. But I do feel damn nervous every time I pass by. I have another two weeks of this ordeal and I hope our next encounter will only be in the court.

Legislature Fever- 2

When it gets incredibly boring even by my bureaucratic standards I tend to do something to get out of it. It is the second week of my duty at the Legislative Council and the tedium of it is getting on my nerves. Fed up with the tasteless tea in the makeshift canteen in the premises of the Council I decided to go to a real Irani. Bahar, Bombay Bakery were too far away so I settled for Hotel Panchsheel just across the road near Ravindra Bharati . The chota samosa they serve there are quite good so I went to the place. I had about half hour to kill so I just sat down watching the people at other tables.

At any given time half the crowd in an Irani hotel is made up of autorickshaw drivers. They just cannot seem to be able to drive their autorickshaws without Irani chai coursing in their bloodstream. There were the obligatory cops too. You just cannot step into an Irani without finding at least one cop leisurely drinking chai. One finds all sorts of people in Irani hotels in Hyderabad so finding someone reading a book in such hotels isn’t unusual. After realizing that I’d be free most of the time in the Council I made it a habit to carry a couple of books to read whenever I found the time. I took out Pico Iyer’s ‘Global Soul’ that I had with me and read an entire chapter (The Games) sitting in Hotel Panchsheel.

Needless to say I was bowled by Pico Iyer’s analytical style of his writing and the depth and range of his insights into almost everything that he saw or experienced. I wonder what he would have made of my experiences in the Council were he to be in my place. I guess he would have something insightful to say about the dozing bureaucrats, the eager assistants of the Ministers, the gun toting cops in grey safari suits, the dozens of enormous SUVs with blue lights on the top, the frisking at the entrance, the beeps of the metal detectors and the people milling around with passes and IDs hanging around their necks. I would have liked to write something quite observant and insightful about this daily scene I witness but then I am no Pico Iyer.

There’s a rush to get out of the Council as soon it is adjourned for the day. I always make it a point to try to pick out the journalists among the crowd. I know that there are quite a few reporters who sit in the Council to cover the proceedings. There are faces I can recognize and know the papers for which they work. There are some faces I try to connect to the publications they belong. Of course, it is quite easy to tell the television reporters from the print reporters. They are invariably to be seen dictating the headlines into their mobile phones as soon as they emerge out of the Council, headlines which appear as Breaking News on the television screens.

I have another three weeks of this to go before the House is adjourned sine die.

Legislature Fever

Those government employees, officers especially, working in their Head Offices in Hyderabad, get a unique opportunity a couple of times a year. This opportunity is one of watching democracy in action in the form of duty at legislatures when they are in session. Some of the officers are drafted for duty either at the Legislative Assembly or Legislative Council for about half a day or so. During the last session I too was on duty at the Assembly for a couple of days. This time however I was drafted to the Legislative Council for the whole duration of the sessions which, being the budget session, ends on the 31st of March.

Since Monday last I’ve been attending the sessions at the Legislative Council housed in the Jubilee Hall in the Public Gardens at Nampally. Since then I’m spending half my day until late afternoon in the Officers Waiting Hall in historic Jubilee Hall. The hall is a beautiful circular building built by the Nizams. The Waiting Hall is a curved hall with a high ceiling with chandeliers and ceiling fans hanging down. However, the stiff backed chairs are damn uncomfortable if one has to spend more than a couple of hours sitting on them listening to the proceedings in the Council Hall through the speakers.

It is a great opportunity to witness legislation in the making, listening to the debates between the Members and also getting to watch some of the faces one sees only on the televisions. Being the house of the elders the Legislative Council proceedings go on smoothly unlike that of the Assembly which has more members. It is less noisy here at the Council. Whenever there is a break I take out a book that I am carrying in my bag and read it. Last week I managed to finish Mohammed Hanif’s ‘A Case of Exploding Mangoes’ that I had picked up only recently. It is an unputdownable book with a great plot and some wonderful passages. What stands out is, however, the humor evident in the situations and the lines mouthed by some of the characters in the book.

The other day I had to come as early as eight am to the Council. There are always cops swarming the place. At the Gates, one has to show the Official pass to be let in. Then there is more checking- you are frisked, the bags are checked before you are allowed to enter. There are metal detectors, bomb and dog squads. That day I saw the dog squad in action with the canine sniffing around led by its burly handler. There was someone checking the mike saying ‘Checking 1,2,3’ every few seconds for at least an hour. After an hour or so the place begins to fill up with the members arriving. Soon the place is crowded with Scorpios, Innova cars with the blue lights at the top, cops in safari suits carrying sten guns, some cops in uniforms with pistols stuck in their waistbands and even traffic cops directing the traffic inside the Public Garden. The sessions begin with pealing of a bell that rings continuously for more than a couple of minutes. Then the session begins and goes on until eleven or half past eleven after which there is a tea break. After the tea break the session goes on until half past one by which time I begin to feel terribly hungry. As soon as the House is adjourned for the day I rush to the office for lunch.

The whole thing is repeated the next day. There are usually no sessions on Saturdays and Sundays. I have another month of Council duty by which time I plan to finish reading at least five books.

Storm Watcher

There are very few jobs, particularly in the government, that occasion frequent adrenaline rushes. Such occasions were there in my career too but for not more than a day or two. Rarely had there been times when I had to put in long hours for an entire week in a state of high excitement. Last week was one such occasion thanks to the ‘Jal’ Cyclone that had us all in a state of high alert. As a small cog in the enormous Government machinery I saw how the government functions when there’s a disaster looming around the corner. Sometime in the beginning of the week when we were already busy with the visit of the Central Team and with heavy rains in other parts of the State came the news about a cyclone making its way towards the State.

For almost a week every one in the office and the government as well waited with bated breath as bulletin after bulletin from the weather office (IMD) gave us the movement of the cyclone. With each day the cyclone seemed to gain strength and inch closer towards the State. The status of the cyclone was being upgraded from depression to cyclone to a severe cyclonic storm in two days. It was enough to make all of us terribly nervous. We dreaded the next bulletin wondering what news it would bring. There’s a Standard Operating Procedure that we follow when it comes to cyclones, like what needs to be done 72 hrs, 48, 24 hours before it crosses the coast. Every one was busy doing their own jobs that they are supposed to do. It reminded me of my copywriter days in the advertising agency when we were close to the deadline of a major campaign. The office buzzed with people rushing to and fro, the sound of the constant ringing of mobile phones and landlines, of the fax machine, of the printers and so on. Every hour we were sending messages to the district officials about what to do. Apart from these were the almost hourly reports to the Ministers and the press. Journalists with mikes in their hands with cameramen tagging behind them were a common sight in our office the whole of last week.

At no time in one’s life does one get a chance to ask the three Defence forces to be ready to move in to help. A couple of days ago I sent one of the many messages to the Army, Air Force and the Navy to be in a state of readiness as news of the cyclone gathering strength trickled in. We sent messages to have people evacuated from low lying areas to safer places. We asked for coordinates to help choppers land in case of necessity. People from other offices trooped in to help. Every one in the office pitched in the work. I never knew that the government staff would be so responsible. Everyone was anxious and some even prayed that the cyclone would go away to some other place. Though I had only an idea of what damage such cyclones bring veterans in the department told me that though the cyclone lasts only a few hours it would mean weeks of work for us afterwards.

Yesterday came the merciful news that the cyclone had weakened into a depression. Nevertheless it brought a lot of rain, killing about fourteen people, bringing down houses, marooning thousands of people and flattening crops in thousands of acres. It is something to lose one’s belongings and something else to lose one’s only source of income. No one except farmers can understand what it feels to see the fruit of one’s labour get washed away before one’s eyes. No amount of compensation can bring back the crop so whenever there are floods and cyclones the most miserable people are the farmers.

About the only good that a cyclone or a calamity of this scale brings is the sight of the government staff working tirelessly round the clock to see that not much damage occurs. I saw several people in my office stay late in the night, come early in the morning, volunteer to do night duty and put in a lot of effort to make sure every one was safe.

The whole week I felt like I was in a different world. I did not read anything but only managed to do a couple of posts on this blog. I reached office early in the morning and left late in the night. The only thought on my mind, like everyone else in the office, was about the Jal cyclone. But now mercifully it has gone but there is still a lot to be done. It looks like I might be making another trip to Delhi after a couple of weeks as the Government of India has to be informed about the damages the cyclone has caused. Maybe in the last week of this month I’ll be winging away to Delhi.

The Tragedies on the Job

This is the fourth daily post of this special week.

Never did I imagine, remotely even, that post-mortem reports would form a substantial part of my job-related reading. On a typical day I get to read at least half a dozen post mortem reports. It isn’t that I have to do it compulsorily. I have this habit of reading everything that comes to my table even if they are reports relating to deaths in accidents. I simply cannot resist reading anything that can be read even if it is just a pamplet about home tuitions. I want to read it from top to bottom. Also, I have to confess to a morbid curiosity to know how someone died. Frankly speaking, reading those reports is depressing especially when the reports happen to be those of children.

When someone who is below the poverty line dies an unnatural death in accidents and the like the state government pays fifty thousand rupees ex-gratia to the next of kin. That amount comes from our department. As soon as the accident happens the local officials release the money and later send the details to us for reimbursement. Among the details they forward are the post-mortem report and the FIR filed by the police. The FIRs are a category apart written they are in the language only cops know. It happens to be my job to go through such details before forwarding the papers for approval by the bosses.

Reading about the deaths of adults in road accidents etc doesn’t particularly have any effect but there are certain deaths that cause a lot of anguish. Entire families seem to perish in accidents in our country. Two that I cannot forget are the deaths of families that drowned while the country boat they were traveling in capsized in a river in spate. The other was about a family that died in a road accident. This accident took place on the road that I used to take to Suryapet. Going through the list of names, the details of their age, the injuries they suffered is enough to cause a lot of mental turmoil. I wonder how those members of the family who were lucky to survive would cope with the loss of their loved ones. The day I read about such deaths of families I cannot think normally. Those are the days I wish I wasn’t so addicted to reading.