[dropcap]I[/dropcap] joined the Nagaland Civil Service (NCS) in August 1974 as an Extra Assistant Commissioner (EAC) along with nine other Circle Officers. As a probationer we joined the Administrative Training Institute (ATI) in Kohima for a duration of 6 months. This was where we were supposed to be polished as administrators. Mr.D’silva, the senior most civil servant, who ought to have otherwise been the Chief Secretary of Nagaland, had unfortunately been politically sidelined and was the Director of this Institute. He was understandably sulking in his own corner and remained hibernating in isolation. We hardly saw him during our six months training.
The first impression of ATI was dismal and ended more dismally when we left. There was no infrastructure to accommodate the probationers. Each one of us made our own independent arrangements of attend this course. There was no dedicated teaching faculty when we arrived. There was no dedicated faculty when we left at the end of six months. The Institute was happier not seeing our faces most of the time. One Mr. Ghosh was an Accountant in the ATI establishment at that time. He was the only permanent fixture of the Institute but basically unrelated to the teaching faculty. We were however grateful to him for at least grudgingly taking occasional classes in Accounts subject when he was in the mood. One or two senior Administrators would intermittently drop in to take a few indifferent lectures on general administration. The Law Department sent their Joint Secretary, Mr. Dharshan Singh to read a few selected chapters on CPC/CRPC verbatim and left immediately on completion of his recitation as if he was in some plague zone. He must have assumed that we were neither capable of reading nor discussing. A couple of months later came the hilarious revenue field training. We were taken down to Dimapur. The next morning some revenue representatives came to the Administrative rest house to pick us up. They took us toward the Nagarjan/Government High School road and handed a link chain to some of us to pull while the rest were asked to peep through a small overused buccaneer scope on a tripod. We took turns to do this. We were all young bucks with no strings attached. Peeping through the scope in turns to spot good looking high school girls on their way to school seemed to have been the only outstanding impression that our batch mates remembered about this revenue field trip at the wrap up session. The ATI seemed to have run out of ideas and going through a nightmare not knowing how to keep us occupied after a three and a half months of our infestation into their serene territory. During this time, I was fortunately selected to represent the State football team for an Inter-state tournament at Bombay, requiring my presence at Chumukedima Police HQ for a three weeks pre-tournament training before departure. I did so most willingly, glad to be doing something useful and escape the drudgery at the ATI. The tournament in Mumbai didn’t last too long, being knocked out by the second round. By the time I rejoined my batch mates at least two months and a half of training time had been pegged off. When I asked my mates if I had missed anything important during my absence they only gave me a zombie stare back and so I was reassured that I had not missed anything worthwhile. The remaining time was equally uneventful and professionally unproductive. We heaved a sigh of relief when the training duration finally concluded with a perfunctory written review of the subjects they didn’t teach us in the form of an examination. The batch mates had the briefest of audience with the Director, wished each other well and made preparation to move out to our respective posting places. We were at least confidently armed with the knowledge that we knew less than what we knew when we joined ATI. It was not the best of feeling being thrown into the lake of reality and asked to swim or drown. It was now a simple matter of who amongst us had the wit and who didn’t to face the chaotic world outside.
February 1975: My first posting station was Mokokchung District HQ, my adopted home town. I packed my suit case headed for Mokokchung and reported for duty the next day. At 8.00 am I walked up to the Deputy Commissioner’s residence and knocked at his front door. After a moment Mr. L.Colney the DC himself answered the door. I nervously introduced myself as the new EAC reporting for duty. Since he showed no intention of inviting me into the house, after an awkward moment I blurted out that I was eagerly looking forward to gain experience under his tutelage. He indifferently said “OK. We’ll see you in office” and walked back in, leaving me standing at the door. I stood there for a while feeling quite stupid and somewhat insulted at the abrupt reception and wondered whether I had done the right thing coming to his residence. Not a very good start I thought to myself. Later I was called up to his office chamber and was assigned the Transport branch. I later discovered that this branch dealt with the issues of repairs/maintenance, of all vehicles under the District Administration, Pol. Reimbursement of officers etc. A rickety 9 years old Mehendra Jeep just welded together in one piece as a vehicle was assigned to me without a driver. It was hazardous and economically devastating for someone like me with Rs.575/-as basic pay. However, as a young enthusiastic administrator starting a real career this vehicle attachment was a feather up the ladder of status enhancement so the appearance of this jeep did not bother me one bit. It felt like a Rolls. Within the weeks I was also allotted the official quarters. It had a small kitchen garden space. My relatives commandeered by my Mother groomed it into a lush vegetable patch while the PWD worked on the repair/renovation and painting the house for me. The windows were measured; curtains cloth purchased and was being tailored. It had taken all of three months to get my house in order. A plan to move into my new home was set. Then in May 1975 my transfer order as EAC cum Block Development Officer to Wakching came. This was the first time I heard about this place. Neither did I have the foggiest idea where it was not nor the people I was being sent to serve until later.
I hardly remember these three months that I had spent in Mokokchung under Mr. L. Colney, the Deputy Commissioner, Mokokchung, except for one Administrative Officers’ meeting of our District. I remembered all the outpost Officers had one thing or the other to say about their vehicle repair/Pol reimbursement problems. Since I was not expected to perform miracles in the maintenance of their vehicles without budget I felt agitated and wanted to speak my piece and so stood up. Mr. Colney flagged me down. He came from the military background and was a stickler for seniority. He wanted all my seniors to speak first. When my turn finally came at the end of the chain but before the Circle Officers, he pointed at me to speak. I was by then sufficiently pissed off with the snub for the second time and so stood up and just said I had nothing to say and sat down. He looked at me for a while and moved on to my juniors.
Mr. Chandra, my replacement EAC moved in to the house I had painstakingly supervised to renovate with a bonus of a readymade kitchen garden. The DC convened a small official farewell for me and Mr. Khanikar, Circle Officer who was on that same transfer list. He just about mentioned my name, praised Mr. Khanikar a great deal as an efficient and dependable officer and finished by welcoming Mr. Chandra the new replacement. I left the office with a rather disappointed shabby thought about Mr. Colney’s lack of sensitivity towards his subordinates. A lesson was learned nevertheless: never to let my subordinates feel the way I felt when I first reported for duty.
My Mother did the best she could to pack all the kitchen utensils, a little bit of rice/a few pieces of dried pork/axone/salt/ chili/ tea leaves and sugar into a gunny bag. A driver was assigned to drop me at Wakching in that Rolls Roy contraption. I packed a suitcase and bedding and headed out after an emotional farewell to Mom. The driver, my cousin brother Tokivi and I travelled for the whole day at the fastest snail-paced speed he could master from Mokokchung to Amguri to Sonari to Bihubor to Naginimora and finally to Wakching. It was already past 8.00PM and dark. After a long winding unmaintained riverbed road climb through the jungle, we came to a small deserted clearing with a couple of thatch houses that we saw in the dark on the roadside. My driver woke up the inmates; found that we were in the middle of Wakching town…Town? The direction to the EAC cum BDO’s residence was located and we crossed the full length of Wakching City in two minutes flat. I had arrived. I then met Mr. Giri, a work-charge Nepali chawkidar taking care of the official quarters of the EAC cum BDO and immediately promoted him to my Personal Peon (PP) that very night. My first administrative order was given and more would follow. Mr. PP then busied himself preparing warm water for my bath and cooking for me and the driver. My official mansion was a tin roofed tunnel of an establishment with a common room in the middle with two guest rooms in one flank and the master bedroom on the other wing. The walls were made of Dhari (bamboo matting) material with wooden windows that would allow no light penetrate. The rooms were brightly lit with 20 watts bulbs so I had to be very careful negotiating some of the spaces. After a wash-up and makeshift dinner I retired for the night.
At 5.00am next morning I opened my bedroom door, parted the curtain that had a distinct unwashed odor and got a shock of my life. There was this man silently standing right there in the middle of the doorway. The room was in semi-darkness because the wooden windows had still not been opened. What startled me more was not the sudden confrontation but his eerie appearance and the way he spoke. He was hair-lipped and he stammered rather badly. Gg-d-d-d m-mor-rn-ni-ng S-S-i-r-r he said. I took an involuntary reflexive step backward into my room as I wished him back. Slowly he managed to identify himself as Mr. Ra-a-i-i-i, my Senior Village Level Worker (VLW) and he had come early to render his apology for not being there to welcome me the night before. Together we opened up all the windows and allowed in whatever light that managed to crawl in. My PP had already prepared the morning tea so we picked up a few wooden chairs and sat down on the compound lawn over a cup of tea. We were then joined by Dr. Saho, a happy-go-lucky Medical Officer and his South Indian Compounder. The SDO (PWD), my Dobashi Hentok and Mr. Purba Ao another Senior VLW strolled in as well and the first morning Darbar was had. They would be my official companions during my stay in Wakching.
I had to ascertain my mobility status since I was instructed to have the Mokokchung vehicle returned promptly after arrival. My assigned driver of Wakching was already fidgeting with the contraption when I made the check. He told me that this vehicle had weathered 12 years of rural roads but that it actually still moved. After unloading the spare fuel and mobile oil that I had brought for this eventuality I released the MKG vehicle. After giving him the required funds for fuel and food for his homeward trip I thanked the driver and set him on his way. Reporting to the Deputy Commissioner Mon of my arrival was the first primary priority that I had to finish and so headed for Mon HQ. I met Mr. C.N. Ngulley in his office. He warmly welcomed me and introduced me to his SDO(C ) Mr. A.M.Gokhale. They were discussing a rather pressing matter about huge sums of money being granted to the Villagers in Tiru sector for the acquisition of huge forest land by the Forest Department. Their concern was that if such big sum was disbursed directly to the villagers, they would go berserk on a spending spree and would eventually run out it. The pressure on their posterity without land or money would be disastrous. Being invited to share my views I joined the discussion and together explored the possibility of making the villagers compulsorily opening fixed deposits and channelizing the expenditure for a sustainable village development. This was the starting point when the prospect of Village Development Board had germinated in the mind of Mr. A.M. Gokhale. (He would later visit Wakching to continue the discussion on community funds and its use.) After submitting my joining report and collecting required provisions for the outpost I carried on.
Wakching was an important British out post but the only evidence of their presence here was the dilapidated inspection bungalow. The so called township had two small shops that sold nothing and a tea stall. Just so as to get acquainted with the elders of this place I had attended the Town Church service on the first Sunday. It was then that I heard an interesting story. I met Mr. Showpa, an elderly man who jokingly asked me whether I was related to Mr. H. Khulu, (father of Mr. H.K.Khulu presently Additional Chief Secretary & Development Commissioner), who happened to be the BDO of Wakching a long time ago. I wasn’t sure why he was asking me this question with such amusement. When I owned up being a relative of his, he conspiratorially told me that they had a very tough time introducing Mr. Khulu to the congregation. The reason being khulu in the Konyak dialect meant big manhood. Mr. H.K.Khulu should travel less to Mon District if he can help it.
(To be continued on August 16)
The writer is a retired IAS officer
