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Two drivers & a coolie

IT was the year of the Commonwealth Games in New Delhi and the city was being spruced up. My colleague, RK Sharma, a former Engineer-in-Chief Himachal, and I were frequent visitors to Delhi during those days, being members of an arbitral tribunal.

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SS Mongia

IT was the year of the Commonwealth Games in New Delhi and the city was being spruced up. My colleague, RK Sharma, a former Engineer-in-Chief Himachal, and I were frequent visitors to Delhi during those days, being members of an arbitral tribunal. Whenever we passed through Connaught Place, we felt terrible seeing old pavements — in good condition — being removed. Moreover, the debris was everywhere and would obstruct the flow of rainwater, damaging the road surface and creating traffic problems. 

Renovating something that did not need it reminded me of an incident in 1964. On my promotion as XEN, I went to meet my boss. He cautioned me to be careful in sanctioning repair/renovation estimates. During those days, surrendering funds could bring a blot on one’s career. So there would be hectic activities in transferring/diverting funds from one subdivision to another during February-March. Whenever extra funds were received, special repair estimates were prepared for pending works. In February, I received a repair estimate for a road that had been skipped by inspecting officers. I had travelled on the road on a private visit and recollected that it was in good condition. I decided to visit it and found there was no need for repair, and so, rejected it. I learnt that repairing a good road, or a building, meant a lot of ‘saving’ which was then shared by the contractor and staff. This was perhaps why a good-condition pavement was being renovated in the name of beautifying Delhi. When I broached this subject with local friends, I was told that all works had been personally approved by the CM.

We were staying in a hotel near Khan Market, a 20-25 minutes’ drive from the railway station. We would start from the hotel 40 minutes before Shatabdi’s departure. On the fateful day, it was raining and we decided to leave an hour early. But we were caught in a jam for long. Since we were getting late, the driver suggested that we get down and walk to the inner circle to catch some other vehicle. We ran with our luggage in tow — all the time cursing the CM, saying people of Delhi will not vote for her. No auto was keen to take us to the station. ‘I will give Rs 100 more for the railway station,’ I said, the desperation evident. An auto driver agreed. We heaved a sigh of relief, but after a few metres, we were stopped at the entry to the Circle Road by a Home Guard volunteer as it was one-way. I pleaded with him and he allowed us to proceed. The auto went on at a breakneck speed, we reached the station, but our ordeal was not over. Our coolie said the train was about to leave and we should take the stairs and get into the nearest compartment. He almost ran, we after him. As soon as we got in the train, it started moving. He threw in the luggage. We thanked him while making the payment. 

After settling in, we thought about it: the taxi driver, auto driver, coolie and the Home Guard, all helped us in time. God bless them and their breed.

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