A couple of months after my first posting
as a Sub Divisional Officer (SDO) in 1969 , I received the tour programme of the Revenue
Divisional Commissioner, Northern Division to Bonai. This news was a welcome
one to me for we would have the company of Gopal Babu (Gopal Chandra Dash) that
would make life in this small place a bit lively for a few days. I however
noticed some sort of concern in a few officers. The commissioner’s love for
food was known far and wide. Playing host could be expensive. I tried to cheer
up my officers. He would be my guest on the first day, I suggested.
The
Commissioner knew me since I was a child. He would be quite happy to see me and
my wife playing host to him. I broke the news to my wife. She was happy and
launched a comprehensive programme. River Brahmani flows nearby. The ferry
service station at Tumkela, known as Tumkelaghat, is the favourite place to buy
fresh fish regularly caught from the river by the fishermen of the area. My
wife sent her most efficient errand boy to buy two kilograms of the best Rohu
fish. While he was away, other items were getting prepared. She was happy that the khansama had got the
elaborate job well executed before noon. The Commissioner was expected around
thirty minutes past one in the afternoon. She grew apprehensive as the peon had
not returned with fish till midday. She waited for another fifteen minutes.
Situation did not improve. An emergency plan was launched. She would go for
chicken in stead. One did not have broiler chickens available those days (in
the year1969). We had raised a modest poultry unit in our house. The unit
comprised about six hens, a few chicks and a cock. All were local birds. Those
nice birds were treated as our guests and we used to derive pleasure in feeding
the birds in the morning and in the afternoon. She took the momentous decision
to make chicken curry and had no means of buying the right type of chicken so
soon. The Head Clerk of the SDO office had his official residence just behind
our house. She advised a peon to take a bird from our unit to the Head Clerk’s
house and exchange it for a bird from his poultry unit. Fortunately, the Head
Clerk was available when the emissary reached his house with the live bird and
conveyed the proposal. The Head Clerk was a bit confused initially; but was
full of sympathy when the plight of my wife was explained to him by the peon.
Since the Commissioner Sahib was the guest, he decided to part with the
healthiest bird to do justice to the guest.
Preparation of the curry had barely progressed when the Commissioner’s
retinue headed by the young SDO entered the living room of the SDO’s bungalow.
Worry and anxiety were all that I saw in my wife’s face. I took her in and
tried to ascertain facts. There would be no fish as the peon who had been sent
to buy fish had not returned so far. She briefly narrated the contingency plan
she had resorted to for compensating the inadvertent absence of fish from the
menu for the Commissioner’s lunch. She however added a caveat. The chicken was
taking much longer time to cook I cursed the Head Clerk. The mention of the
Commissioner’s lunch must have sent this innocent soul to a state of dizziness.
He must have parted with his biggest of birds; hardly realizing that the bulk
of the bird was not due to its state of health but due to its advanced age.
That was the reason why the chicken was not softening in the cauldron despite
the best efforts of the seasoned khansama.
Once the Commissioner settled down in the
sofa and had a refreshing fruit juice, he showed all eagerness to go to the
dining room. We could not delay his journey to the food world. He was ushered
to the table. Soup was served. The bowl was swiftly emptied even before soup
had been served to the host. The next course was cutlets, nicely made and
pleasantly spiced with cinnamon and mint. He was quick to finish. He was now
getting impatient to have his favourite food. Propriety was thrown to the
winds. He looked at my wife and wanted to know when the main dish would be
served. She got the message all right but had no easy solution. She cast an
agonizing look at the kitchen. The smell of chicken was flowing into the
receptive nostrils of my Commissioner and was making him restive. The khansama
finally arrived and liberally served chicken to the honored guest. His face lit
up. Repeated efforts to cut pieces of meat through knife and fork yielded no
result. The flesh was tough enough. He discarded the benign instruments and
opted for his robust hands. A big piece of cooked chicken was swiftly lifted.
An obliging mouth and experienced teeth received the sought after food; but
bite after bite had had no impact on the big piece of chicken. My Commissioner
made a couple of efforts with greater vigour. He did not succeed. The big piece
was dropped on the plate in disgust. Both of us were greatly embarrassed. Mr
Sundar Rajan, the Collector, appeared distraught and did not know how to
restore normalcy. My affable Commissioner came with a chivalrous gesture. He
comforted my wife by saying that the items prepared by her were tasty but as
she was a vegetarian she should have no remorse over the spoilt dish. The rest
of the lunch session passed off silently with liberal flow of vegetarian items.
The guests took leave.
We looked for the elusive peon who had been deputed to
buy fish from Tumkela ghat. He appeared in the evening, with an outrageous
explanation. When the fishermen were told that he would buy two kilograms of
fish they were taken by surprise for our usual requirement had been only five hundred
grams. They were informed of the larger requirement due to the SDO playing host
to the Commissioner for lunch. The good fisherman informed our peon that
Commissioner would have dinner at Lahunipara and for this fish were being
caught in a tank of a nearby Grama Panchayat. They therefore advised our simple
peon to go to the tank and get fresh fish from there. He obliged and waited for
the catch which was possible only late in the afternoon. He hurried back to our
house as it was too late for the day-party at home.
I had yet another glimpse of his love for
food. We had by then moved to Rourkela. I was the SDO and Shri Satya Ranjan Pal
was the Additional District Magistrate. Our Commissioner was returning to his
headquarters, Sambalpur, from Patna. Both of us were advised to meet him at
Birmitrapur, a town in my sub-division on the Bihar-Orissa border. He would
resume duty there, transact some official business and then proceed to
Sambalpur after lunch. The guest house of the BSL Company, known as the Director’s
Bungalow is a fabulous property with many suits, a vast well wooded garden.
Commissioner’s car arrived. I opened the door of the car to receive him. Before
he could get down, about half a dozen of cauliflowers rolled down from the car.
I withdrew a bit to allow what could be an avalanche of vegetables to descend.
Commissioner got down. I craned my neck to find out the condition inside his
car. It was fully loaded with cauliflowers. His suitcase was to be taken out of
the luggage boot. Before it could be taken out, there was another descent of
dozens of cauliflower. Commissioner was amused at my state of bewilderment.
With a grin he told us how he had stopped on the way at a market to buy
cauliflowers and finding them cheap, bought a good quantity.
Mr. Pal and I
joined him for a discussion on some official matter and then all three of us
had lunch in the guest house. It was raining and the garden outside was looking
pretty. He decided to have beer along with food. He reminisced and decided to
recount an interesting incident of his younger days. He was then a forest
officer, on training at the training school at Angul. Six of them were under
training and none was satisfied about the food they were served by the hostel
cook. It was always inadequate for them, particularly, the non vegetarian
dishes. One day they all decided to have one full chicken for each of them. The
cook made arrangements accordingly. All the officers except our Commissioner
went to attend their classes. Commissioner was having fever and he was in bed.
The trainees would come for lunch around one in the afternoon. Our Commissioner
rushed to the kitchen around noon and wanted to have his meal. There was great
deal of excitement in him. He was served with his favourite chicken for that was
a day when the flow of chicken would not end as he would have one whole chicken
for himself. But the flow did stop after sometime and he looked up, angry, and
demanded more. The cook was angrier; he had by then served five chickens to him
and must save the last one for the five officers who would soon come for lunch.
Our Commissioner rushed back to his room and again pretended to be sick, to
save his skin.
I was posted as Additional District
Magistrate at Rourkela. One morning I was informed about some exchange of fire
in the Industrial Estate. We had a Magistrate on the spot along with police to
tackle some on going unrest in the area. The news about firing was serious
enough to decline my wife’s request to have a light breakfast before rushing to
the scene. There was utter confusion; the police and the Magistrate were in a
state of shock. I took charge of the situation. I sent words for a contingent
of armed men from the Orissa Military Police. A few policemen arrived. They
were asked to take position. I led the team and declared the agitating people
an unlawful assembly. They were asked though repeated announcements over
loudspeaker to disperse. They however reacted by shooting arrows at us.
Situation was getting worse with growing intensity of arrow-shooting.
I decided
to take recourse to firing when repeated attempts to disperse the crowd failed.
A few rounds of firing was done; each only after my specific order to fire. The
disciplined policemen would kneel, aim at the person about to shoot an arrow at
us and then fire low to avoid possibility of hitting the head. There were a few
casualties and the mob dispersed. I sat down, somewhat exhausted, somewhere on
the side of a road while some miscreants were being rounded up by the police.
The leader of the police team, a nice Gorkha Havildar, walked up to me and
asked me to reduce the verbal firing order to writing. I did that and he
departed with the order with a smart salute. Immediately thereafter, a kindly
person offered me a glass of hot tea the aroma and freshness of which I still
remember.
Government decided to hold an inquiry into the firing. Commissioner
conducted the inquiry. He heard my version of the incident in a formal manner.
He also heard other concerned persons. While making detailed study at the spot
without associating me in the exercise, he got a vivid description of the
incident from some eye witnesses who described how in this case a Magistrate
was found leading a police team and how orderly was the management of the
crisis.
Only after submitting his report to the Government did the affable
Commissioner unfold to me about his impression about my efficient handling of
the case. I came to know of the adorable professionalism in the affable
Commissioner.
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