Bolt from the Delhi Skies

Mid-July.  My colleague PU called up from Delhi to announce my impending transfer.  It hit harder than Usain Bolt’s record possibly.  “You know you are being posted to Jammu.  The orders might reach you any moment from now” he announced.  I was too dazed to react.  He went on to say a lot more things which I later recollected through the haze.  There was hardly anything pleasant though.  He called again in a while to tell me that he was in the Senior’s chamber and it was him who’d asked PU to speak (the tone, the words et al) to me thus.  I got that.  The word Jammu had yet to sink into my skin, mind etc.  I hadn’t even made the mandatory distress calls to JS and BS about it.  When I ultimately did they first thought it was a joke.  Many others (who had seen the transfer on the net) called in over the next 24 hours.  Mom was shocked and she began to cry over the phone.  Dad was equanimity personified.  “You knew all this when you joined the Service, didn’t you?” 

But the transfer was not a benign one.  It was being effected because of two reasons.  One, my performance appraisal had gone terribly wrong at the hands of my boss (though it was suitably ‘amended’ to save my fall from grace by the Senior).  So, ostensibly, the Senior wanted to save me from further trouble from my boss in Bangalore.  But then the Senior himself wasn’t too happy with me.  “He’s ignoring me and has grown bigger than his boots” he had commented to whoever wanted to hear.  And he had an axe to grind with my boss too.  One stone, two birds.  Upgrade my appraisal to acceptable levels and insult my boss and get me posted out of Bangalore to a distant station and teach me a lesson.  Mission accomplished.  None in the department was too happy that I was hobnobbing too closely with JS.  JS was my colleague, friend, sounding board, many things rolled into one.  He was fighting a legal battle with the Department (the Jury is still out on this). 

Farewells

Many of my colleagues, well-wishers asked me to represent against the transfer.  One senior even joked, “What are they trying to do?  Make you see all the corners of the country?”   SV (and a few others) even sent me drafts of my representations over mail.  “Please don’t accept this transfer”.  After much deliberation I chose NOT to represent and accept the transfer order, though I had spent less than 2 years in Bangalore. 

Further drama unfolded over my date of relief.  Any ways, I was relieved from my office in Bangalore on 3 August 2009 after several farewell parties from the colleagues and subordinates (lunch, tea, dinner).  Some even gave me presents – nothing expensive thankfully.  A Baba’s idol, a Ganpati, a coupon to buy books (as everyone knew I loved books). 

Amidst all this, I had a memorable afternoon of getting together with my High School classmates – many of whom I hadn’t seen in over two decades.  A two hour togetherness got extended to a five hour one!  Cameras flashed unceasingly; the conversation flowed non-stop too.  Especially with Lakshmi wielding the baton to ensure everyone spoke and shared all their history of the past 2 decades! 

Best Laid Plans

Most of the days between 3 and 17 August I spent at home, in Kolar.  Supervising the construction of the house.  Most things I’d planned happened.  Some didn’t.  As the date of journey approached (17 August) I wondered about all that JS, PK and I had planned about thinking beyond our current jobs as our careers. The transfer was happening at an inopportune moment; a mighty spanner in the works.  Even though I displayed bravado I was scared within.  Our trip to Hyderabad wouldn’t happen.  The plan to go the entrepreneurial way might just get delayed.  The fate of the house under construction seemed too bad. 

I – after talks with BS and JS – tentatively fixed the date as 5 September 2009 for my return from Jammu to wind up things in Bangalore.  With the number of horror stories that were being told about my boss in Jammu I wondered if I’d be able to stick to this either!