Mission Accomplished

Implementing an Order-Indian Style

The Back Ground:

It happened few years down the line.

There was a call from elders in my locality who commanded I must accompany them to meet the chief minister.

They perhaps needed to have few younger faces in the entourage to meet the big man. It so happened that a big gang of tough looking guys had audacity to forcibly occupied a big piece of prime public land. They come with gunmen, masons, truck loads of building material and bulldozers.  The piece of prime land was allotted for a much needed park and a play ground. They chose to strike on eve of rare consecutive three holidays in a row including 15^th August, a second Saturday and one restricted holiday or some thing of that sort.

The Big Man:

He was and still is a highly respected and affable grand old man of Indian politics.

Who even with little formal education, could hold forth on complex social and political issues.

A moderate self learned politician with an uncanny gift of making friends out of arch enemies.

The Spirited Entourage:

A friendly retired IAS, a greedy but skilled doctor, a dashing  retired Colonel,  a doughty lawyer, a canny political fixer, a not so social- rich social worker and few fat ambitious businessmen.

Few others like me on fringe to add weight to the team and make it big enough to convey immediate mission of a large social concern. They were aware of big man’s penchant for meeting large groups.

The sequence of events:

6.00 AM

We started of in 4 cars, dot on time. The pushy colonel made sure we did.

I sat with my friend, an architect who thought very badly of such an incident in the locality with so many professionals and well connected.

6.20 AM

We parked the cars and arrived at the imposing gate of the chief ministers sprawling official residence.

The political fixer knew the guards and our entry were easy to the hallowed premises.

We walked like a really motivated-possessed team out to make a difference and teach the scoundrels a befitting lesson.

The front of the team was carefully chosen- the IAS, the lawyer, the Colonel, the female social worker in full makeup and of course the fixer.

CM was famous for ignoring the leaders of the groups and talk to any one he might fancy.

We all were tutored all details and expected answers.

In event of a goof up the IAS, the lawyer, the Colonel and the social worker would take over.

6.30 AM

We were ushered in the hushed environment of an ante room.

The private secretary knew the IAS and promised to materialize the meeting as soon as possible.

But politely informed that “Saab” was feeling little indisposed and might see his doctor waiting in next room.

A delegation of villagers was with him and it was expected to take some time.

6.50 AM

With thumping expectant hearts we entered the drawing hall.

The big man in his wisdom had decided to meet us in midst of a group of still present little angry villagers.

They were out to make the old man help them in some irrigation related crisis.

The he looked fresh supporting a trade marked white dhoti and kurta with a matching brown jacket.

 The wide sofa he occupied could accommodate three more person to confide privately even in midst of a crowded hall.

The alert fixer managed to catch his eyes and rushed to touch his feet. Immediately offered the bundle of Paan to the CM and received a pat on the back, he immediately disclosed purpose of the visit, before the leader of villagers could restart his monologue.

On the cue, the IAS introduced him self, the mission of the team and the grave incident involving dreaded land mafia.

The CM knew the IAS and looked suitably concerned with the incident in the state capital.

CM:  What you expect me to do? When such a senior officer like you could have done a lot?

The hushed silence was broken by the doughty lawyer explaining the efforts made in spite of the police inaction.

CM: Did you talk to the Collector?

IAS: Sir, we could not, he was out.

An annoyed CM instructed the PA to call the Collector.

CM: How such a thing could happen with you all people residing there?

All were seemingly flabbergasted but the dashing Colonel took over.

Colonel: Sir they did their criminal deeds at night under barrel of guns. I too have a licensed gun, but would not take law in my hands.

The big man nodded agreeably. The call to locate the illusive Collector was still in progress,

The group of wide eyed villagers was sipping tea and seemed to be enjoying the unfolding drama.

They looked quite uncomfortable managing the cutlery. Most were sipping the piping hot tea from saucer holding thin bone china cup in other hand.

CM: Now you tell me, what should I do?

 Our leaders seemed utterly confused by the loaded question.

CM: Should I solve problems of well to do city people or of these poor villagers from faraway border area? They have traveled for days for this meeting and you have landed here in few minutes.

Our leaders looked beaten and confused, weighing various possible answers. The canny political fixer proved to be an asset.

Fixer: Sir, we all are equal before your wisdom and power.

The CM didn’t look at us but seemed to like the dialogue as a faint smile broke on his wizened face.

The collector was at last located and CM talked to him loudly.

CM: “Yeh kya ho raha hai shahar main collector saab? Aap log kya dekhten hain? I am sending these people to you. Do some thing and report the progress.”

Mean while the tea has been served to our group.

The patient leader of the villagers has found the needed gap. He reinitiated his polite but firm dialogue with the CM. All seem to nod in agreement and listened with rapt attention. The force of simply dressed, diminutive villager must have shattered the myopic vision we the city dwellers had about uneducated village leaders.

8.05 AM

The spirited entourage arrived at the Collector’s residence.

There we waited for more than half an hour. The collector was busy holding important meeting with his deputies.

He looked greatly concerned to hear about the criminal incident, involving some known hoodlums.

The tall aristocratic man from Jodhpur was gracious enough to serve us some much needed snacks as we poured our plight to him.

Our interaction was frequently disrupted by hurried parleys his deputies held with him.

His residence looked and functioned like an office; as various telephones ringing in next room and busy looking red eyed staff rushing in and out with wireless handsets.

He would listen, demand details, convey displeasure, decisions and concern with firm conviction.

We all were impressed and sat transfixed, seeing the state machinery working over time to administer the complex network of the state capital:

The road accidents, traffic blocks, brewing political agitation, arrivals and departures of VIPs, movement of CM, red alerts, terrorist threats, power cuts, water shortage, demolition drives, traders delegations, student agitation, antique smuggler’s arrest, drug addicts death, triple murder-crime of passions, bank robbery, escape of dreaded prisoners from jail, literary seminars and large religious discourse, governmental permissions and refusals.

The ritual seeking an explanation was repeated by the collector.

He asked to be connected to the superintendent of police immediately.

Collector: SP saab yeh kya ho raha hai shahar main? Goondo ki mann manni chal rahi hai.

I am sending these people to you, do some thing fast and report. I have to inform the CM by evening.

Salon ko band kar deejeeye aaj.

We were assured that strict action would be taken against the miscreants.

For that the SP must be told by us about the event in details.

As we emerged from the collector’s bungalow, two businessmen excused them selves.

Meeting the CM and collector was important addition; some thing to brag about.

But naming the hoodlums to SP was some thing they didn’t like to be a part of.

They told the IAS, lawyer and social worker their fears of reprisals from the dreaded ruffians.

9.10 AM

The SP was expected to arrive at his bungalow any moment and we were told to wait.

The presence of retired IAS made thing easy and chairs were pulled out for us.

The dashing SP arrived waving a badminton racket and instantly recognized the IAS.

Tea arrived immediately and he excused himself to get ready for the hard day ahead.

He emerged dressed in police fineries and regally sat down to listen to us.

Instructions were given to get DSP on phone immediately.

SP: Ab kya kiya jaye aap log jaante hai kya politics chal rahi hai yahan. It’s all off the records please. Kaheen quote mat kar dena ji.

Social Worker: Kuch hoga ya naheen yeh batlayiye aap.

SP: Why not, the action will be taken today itself.

Lawyer:  Our complaint was not taken seriously at the police station. They did nothing at all.

SP: I don’t deny some black sheep in police as elsewhere. But this is no excuse I agree.

The DSP a deeply religious man was found to be engaged in pooja and would only be available at 10.30

SP: Oh it’s Tuesday and Sharmaji will take time, it’s well known to us. Sorry, please be patient and be     here.

I will ask you to come to my office when I have full information with me.

He stood up and got in his car; leaving us dangling between hopes and despairs.

But we the fighters decided to hold on and see to it that the mission was accomplished, come what may.

10.00 AM

The now fatigued elders with age related ailments remembered the troubled families and medicines.

The Old IAS too decided to depart and promised to be available on phone to make things easy for us.

With the pillar departed we felt hollow and incapable to take on the fight ahead.

The doughty lawyer, social worker and colonel assured us of able leadership qualities and contacts they have.

The political fixer was busy talking to few policemen on duty.

 We looked at him with immense hope for his trouble shooting skills, contacts and felt safe for the battle ahead.

11.10 AM

We were asked go to the SP office situated amidst busy market.

The lawyer and social worker were angry and told us to proceed ahead.

They were getting late for their important appointments.

We four the colonel, the architect, the political fixer and I decided to move ahead with still present but a waning zeal.

11.50 AM

SP told us about his brief to DSP, who would help us in our endeavor.

The DSP will be able to meet us at about 12.00 in his office.

 But he might get late, busy supervising a demolishing drive in other part of city.

12.20 PM

We arrive at DSP office. He was expected any moment.

1.20 PM

No sign of DSP yet. We go out and drink some juice to carry on. Political fixer stayed back to keep an eye on arrival of DSP.

1.50 PM

We are immensely relieved to a pot bellied; paan chewing police man walking up the corridor and enter the DSP chamber.

Few policemen followed with bulk of files and the door was closed.

We were curtly told to wait.

2.30 PM

An amused DSP heard us and made few phone calls. We were told to relax and go home.

Colonel: No problem, we will be here till some thing is really done.

DSP: You can stay here if you wish, but the bulldozers and men will take time to arrive.

They are busy 20 Km away and still not sure when will be free.

You know these machines take time to move, don’t you? There are few official formalities to be done too.

3.30 PM

DSP was enclosed with deputies, no info about arrival of the bulldozers and men.

4.30 PM

A stern looking rosy cheeked inspector notes down the sequence of events.

Still no info about machines and men as their location remains unknown.

Meanwhile we have gulped numerous cups of sugary tea at out side tea stalls.

Had no lunch to keep eye and put pressure by our continued presence.

Nothing seems to move an inch and we felt helpless.

5.30 PM

We went to DSP to remind him about CM’s interest and anger.

He looked amused and asks us to wait a little more.

5.45 PM

We got the good news that the bulldozers and men are on the way to the site.

Our sprits soured and rushed to catch up with the convoy.

The bull dozer and truck load of policemen were standing by road side.

The Bull dozer has developed fault.

We smelled rat and threaten to report to the chief minister and call the press right there.

They grumbled but after some time moved.

6.45 PM

The convoy rumbled to the sight.

The guards left by hoodlum ran away after shouting threats of severe reprisals.

Photographs of site were taken by the police photographer.

7.45 PM

The illegal structures made under shadow of guns and threats lay dismantled.

We felt happy and colonel immediately threw a party and invited all involved.

The canny political fixer called the DSP too.

The mission was accomplished at last.

This is possible only in India…

Mera Bharat Mahaan…

Jai Hind….