IAS Diaries Part 11 - Tiger in the times of Flood

Assam is synonymous with floods when you are dealing with the administrative and governance related domain of disaster management. Flood is much more than just an occurrence. Here we do not refer to it as the rainy season or as the Monsoon, it’s the flood season. If you look at the local geography here, Assam is mostly the river basin of Brahmaputra and the zillion other tributaries and distributaries. Surrounded by mountains in the North, mountains in the East and the South too. It’s like the rain gods planned an ambush. When we reached our district in late June 2016, the first wave had already come. For the uninitiated, it’s not like the entire area is under water for several months continuously. There are waves and then the water subsides after 4-5 days. And then it happens again and again over a period of four to five months. After a few weeks of our arrival the 2^nd wave of flood came through and given the huge impact it made, the same response was to be provided in the relief work.

In some of the far-flunk areas of the district, the water had risen to dangerous levels. Taking cue from this, the relief work had already started. In the District Disaster Management Plan (DDMP), we find the mention of the vulnerable areas and the nearby areas where camps and distribution centers can be operated. The local people are made aware of the safe zones where they shall proceed during the floods. But there can be a catch in this as Brahmaputra and other rivers here change their course quite frequently which eventually would mean that the safe and high zones might change after a while. Ergo the need to update the aforementioned plan regularly and ergo the need for all the officials to be alert in these times.

The NDRF team had already been deployed in the most vulnerable areas of the district supported by the SDRF troops. In case the need is felt, the Army and the Air Force are also taken in the loop. Fortunately, Tezpur is the headquarters of various armed forces including Air Force, Army and several other Paramilitary forces. And if the need be, we will have plenty of backup to handle the situation accordingly. As the water levels started to rise, the Relief and Rehabilitation branch of the DC office kicked into action and they started a 24 X 7 running control room which monitored all the parameters. In case, some people needed to be rescued from certain locations, the NDRF/SDRF teams were directed to such places. It is interesting to note that, the local people are very familiar with the high grounds and they know exactly where to go when the waters start to rise. The long years have made them sort of an expert.

I got the opportunity to visit several flood affected areas in our district with the Deputy Commissioner. That is when I realized how important it was to actually go and visit such areas even when the extent is minimal. One visit by the executive head of the district meant a lot to the people and lifted their spirit and assured them that the needed arrangements would be made in a mission mode approach. We also visited some relief camps which were set up in worst affected areas. On the back end, it was also very interesting to learn how such large volume procurement is done at such a short notice. It is all about having a good plan and pre-disaster paper work. During the flood season they are alerted to keep suggestive stocks of food grains with them in case the need arises.

Apart from the food materials various other items needed for survival are also given. In case the relief camp has babies, baby food also needs to be given separately. The relief camp is supposed to have various facilities including a separate provision of toilet for women. All the requirements must be met to ensure no endemics are spread. And hence it is quintessential to understand that a comprehensive plan and logistics for all items must be worked out well before, especially when we know the annual occurrence of floods in the state. It was a proud feeling to see the administration at full throttle with everyone giving their best and working in synergy. That same synergy needs to be ensured in the pre-season as well meanwhile building embankments to ensure minimum damage.

While we were engaged with the relief work, we had a special visitor who came to Tezpur in the times of the flood. A full size Bengal Tiger was reported seen in the district on the outskirts but not very far from the headquarters. The Tiger apparently came from Kanziranga National Park which is fairly near to our District. Due to floods when 80% of the park was inundated, he\she might have escaped and got lost. The Tiger had already injured one man in the morning. Soon we all went to the field where the Forest officials were chalking down a plan to capture the Tiger.

At the spot, perhaps the whole town had gathered causing possibly a bigger problem than the animal itself. Most of our time and energy went into dispersing the crowd away at least at a safe distance.The tranquilizers were being readied but that area was surrounded by large water bodies and hence came the possibility of the Tiger drowning post the shot. So the team waited for the night to drive out the Tiger. And it was during this wait that several thoughts came to me. The whole man-animal conflict debate. Poor cat. In fact, I wrote a short story getting inspired, CLICK HERE TO READ, sorry for the spoilers though. The entire area was abandoned by application of CrPC 144 for every one’s safety. In the night operation, various techniques were used to frighten away the Tiger through the way it had come but only in vain. Finally it was captured in the morning and was to be later released in the Nameri National Park. Great work by the forest officials as always.

There was the Tiger, caged, confused and possibly angry. As I looked into those fierce eyes and as we bid adieu, to this tiger in the times of flood, I wondered who was really the intruder? 

IAS Diaries Part 10 - Tezpur Begins

The Phase I of our IAS Professional training course had concluded and we all were going to our respective districts for the next assignment. I still distinctly remember the first day and that first journey to Tezpur (District Sonitpur). From the contemporary concreteness of the capital Guwahati, we were going deep and deep. It was amidst the graceful monsoon that I traveled among the green pastures of paddy on either side. More than often we would see lakes and patches of water. And on top of that, wooden boats simply drifting, with no care for the wind, or anything else too. It was only later that I realized that it was more symbolic than one could imagine. And what you see on the left side, is the legendary Kolia Bhomora Bridge which is more than 3 Kms long and in a way is the gateway into Tezpur. For the first timers, it is the magnanimity of the river that strikes, for others it is the never ending expanse of beauty. 

I joined Deputy Commissioner's Office at Tezpur on 27^th June 2016 and called on Mrs. Laya Madduri, IAS the then DC of Sonitpur.  The first few days are always about knowing the people you are going to work with. On this note were scheduled call on/meetings with several senior officials in the district. These interactions with officers who had lots of experience in their field helped me to understand the nuances of administration in the district. In a way, within a span of few days, I got to know a lot about the district, through these experienced eyes. Oh, I almost forgot to mention why I was already thrilled about my stint in Tezpur even before joining and seeing the place. In my preparation days, I came across a small speech by an IPS officer from Assam which was very impressive. She had done brilliantly in her stint so far. Tales of her courage and bravery were pretty common in Assamese and even National dailies. She is a source of such inspiration for so many people, myself included. She was then serving as SP, Sonitpur. You know what that feeling is like, when you actually meet a person who has been inspiring you for long. For that Tezpur would always remain special to me. 

Going back to the main theme, Tezpur has been one of the most important cultural centers right from the ancient times.  The various historic places present in the district are a testimony to that effect. Some would also say that the place is a archaeological goldmine, something which I realized towards the end of my stint. Looking back, I feel that Tezpur has immense tourism potential in terms of it's natural landscape and historic sites but none has been tapped so far. It has just become a transit location for those enroute Tawang. But surely it much more than a transit. Almost about one-third of it's area is classified as forest cover. Its proximity from the capital and the presence of nearby attractions like the Kanziranga National Park and the Nameri National Park, makes this district a much sought after tourist location. The socio-cultural variations of the demography in the district makes it something like a miniature India. I remember once on an inspection, I came across five different communities in five consecutive houses. Spectacular diversity in all senses. 

In the initial days I tried to understand two important aspects in the district- Education and Health. As far as education is concerned, since it being a majorly agrarian place, the children often go to the fields with their parents especially in the sowing and harvesting seasons as a result of which the drop out rate goes tremendously high during this period.  And the probability or the chances of their return to the schools are very grim. The learning levels are alarmingly low hinting for a mission mode solution especially at the primary levels. On the health front, the major issue is the extremely high rate of Maternal Mortality.  This is especially because of the presence of large numbers of tea tribes in the district. Various research done show that they are highly anemic because of a certain type of salty tea that they consume.  Apart from that the reach of our medical institutions is not satisfactory in such rural areas. Various initiatives taken under NRHM seems promising and we all are looking forward. 

I remember, as my first day in Tezpur came to an end, I sat in the balcony of my room in the Circuit House overlooking the mighty expanse of Brahmaputra. The waters were hardly 15 m from where I sat. To be frank, when you see Brahmaputra for the first time, you ponder over the nomenclature that why it is referred as a RIVER when clearly it also touches the horizon like the sea. Goosebumps. It was difficult getting sleep for some days as I was not used to so much of water around me, not kidding. In the coming days, after realizing the role river plays in the lives of people here, the fear turns softly into respect. Nothing but respect. 

Talking of that first day, I also went on a walkathon and almost covered the entire city on foot mostly to understand what kind a place it was. A small city with almost all major facilities at near distances. The calmness, peace and the clean air comes as a sweet surprise for someone who has spent time in Delhi. Tezpur was also adjudged as the least polluted city also. With all these facts in minds, as a walked back to Circuit House that day, a debate had silently started in my subconscious, Small city versus the Metro debate. And it did not take much time to find the right answer.

P.S. To read to the last post in this series, CLICK HERE

Blood and Tears

We all have become so thick-skinned that it requires dramatic circumstances to shake us out of apathy. Compassion and generosity stand next to the Great Indian Bustard, all critically endangered.

Perhaps a decade ago I too was unmoved with the idea of blood donation. But having gone through one personal experience and witnessing the extent of desperation it causes, I realized how much it can mean to the person in need.

Today at this blood donation camp, I remembered that day of desperation. So did the guy in that blue shirt. So did the man in that white kurta. And so did the girl in red. Two things bear testimony to this assertion of mine ~ the conspicuous blood from their vein and the inconspicuous tears in their eyes.

Please donate blood. Whenever you can.

The Forgotten Wheel

These days I don't get the same respect as in those golden days in the past. I was the only one then. But then came the motor and it changed the way the world moved on the roads. I am no competition to those macho bikes and those luxurious four wheels.

When the road is not broad enough, I am the one who is forced to get off. I am the one who is charge-sheeted for slowing down the traffic. I am the one labeled as the vehicle of the poor. No one cares about the fact that I don't pollute, that I ensure good health and that I don't take much space and maintenance. All this does not matter because I slow them down.

Who am I? I am that forgotten wheel who gave you those wonderful memories while you repeatedly attempted to hop on, while you failed and fell again and again until one day when you learned to fly. I do miss you, do you?

The Seed is Strong

Along the serene Hazara pond in Tezpur, we have this huge playground on one side and some government buildings on the other. In one such building, you have the Nehru Yuva Kendra. Though the building is old and dilapidated, the young volunteers make that fact almost irrelevant.

We had a good interactive session where several of them raised their concerns, desires and ambitions. But this one girl sitting in the front row, I knew she had something in mind but was hesitant. At last, she spoke,"I want to join the Army. But my folks tell me that's not for girls. I want to be independent, travel to places but they don't approve. I want to...".

She went on for quite a length and rightly so given the historic gender bias still oozing out from the uninitiated generations. I quoted Gandhiji as an answer to her passionate query and you exactly know which quote I am talking about. I am happy that even in the rural areas the young are raising these questions and defying the archaic biases. Surely we are moving towards a gender neutral world. The seed is strong.

Paper Thin Love

She was never a lady of words. I don’t think I remember listening to her voice, like ever. But I never needed to, I had already fallen in love. She had green eyes. Endless, serene and a universe of it’s own. When I looked into them, everything else just disappeared as if the implicit insignificance of everything else was made bluntly explicit. What would remain was my soul soaked in love, floating in that green ocean of hers. I still vividly remember the first time I saw her. I always go to that place when I seek peace, answers to some questions and when I need to celebrate my existence. The air is always so quite there, even when you can see her playing with the river water resulting is waves melodious like a symphony. I can just sit there all day on that bank starring at the south-bound waters of the river. One feels healed as if the waters are eroding your confrontations as well. And that day, on that bench, I wasn’t alone.

There she was, shining like an ornament draped in a white dress with her hair moving effortlessly with the winds making patterns as if orchestrated by the unknown. For a moment, one would think, how nature sometimes outclasses itself by creations like her. She was like the perfect anomaly in this otherwise hideous world. In a moment, I had forgotten why I had come there at the first place. All I wanted now was, to see her. Perhaps she came to that place for the same reason as mine, for peace and tranquility. She was surely getting that as she sat silently ignoring the existence of any other soul in her vicinity. But what about my peace and my tranquility? She had snatched them away replacing them with ripples of anxiety below the chest. That’s not fair, I wanted to tell her. And everyone else too, I suppose. For several days I could not gather the courage to talk but I didn’t mind. I was happy sitting next to her everyday as she glanced over the sunset over the crimson waters of the river meanwhile making paper art. Yes, she was into origami.

“Hello”, I said one fine day. Seems plain enough, one would think, unless you look into the effort I had to put in, several days of mirror practice and sleepless nights fearing her look of rejection. But thank the gods, she smiled. She smiled! Oh, I can’t tell you exactly how I felt then. Or maybe I can, it felt like my heart just melted, and this I say with no exaggeration. She didn’t say anything though. But that’s okay. I can live for eternity with that smile. And then I started my endless blabber. I talked, talked and talked. She would listen very carefully reacting with her facial expressions. Looking at them, I felt the futility of having learned a language and of words, when one could say so much with their eyes, with their cheeky contours and with their smile. Days went by and I was running short of stories to tell. But she never spoke. Maybe she was never interested. Maybe she only came there to rejuvenate herself in that silence. Maybe she was in a relationship. And she just smiled to me for politeness sake. Even pity.

“I really like you”, I told her one day. Her eyes broadened to those words. There was silence. I could see the river waves, in her eyes, clashing. I could see the sun setting. I could see the birds disappearing over the horizon. I felt she wanted to say something but couldn’t. I felt she did say something, but those words never came out. She turned the other way and got back to her paper art. And there I sat confused what to make of it. After a while, she got up and stood in front of me, handed over to me two red paper swans and left. By the time I got myself out of her magical eyes, she was gone. I did not know if she would come back, or perhaps this was a parting gift. Something to remember her by, to remind me, that she was real.

For the next few days she didn’t come and that perhaps made me believe that I scared her away, that I took away her special place of peace. But she had too. For months I searched for another place of serenity but in vain. Lost in translation and pretty much tired, I went back to that place. There was no one there as I sat alone on that bench. I couldn’t breathe as I was drowning in nostalgia. I had told her everything about me, all the stories. And now she was gone. Amidst this melancholy, my gaze landed upon two Swans drifting playfully in the waters. Well, at least they made it through, I told myself.

~10 years later~

I was sitting in the drawing room playing with my little daughter.  I got married few years later after the disappearance of my mystic lady. It was arranged by my parents. She is a wonderful wife and mother. I can’t complain. She has gone out for some work and I have the entire responsibility to look after our princess. She was playing with her toys when she got hold of those two paper swans. I was afraid that she would tear them apart. I looked at her innocently hinting not to do such a thing. She perhaps understood and gradually opened up those swans perhaps hoping to find a candy inside. As good as tearing it up, I thought. There is no way we can make it back into swans, I sighed.

There goes my only memory of a rendezvous with that beautiful stranger, I wondered. But then I realized, there was something inked on the inside of those papers. I took them away from her gently and as my daughter started crying for having lost her toys, I too wanted to join her. Not for those swans, but for the words beneath. And there I sat in despair, in shock, desperate to fold those papers back into swans. I wanted those words to disappear. They carried with them my melancholic tale of love, of paper thin love.

 “I can’t speak. I am a mute”

“I like you too”