So it transpires that the first article of 2024 is a piece on a sartorial phenomenon - the Sarkari Bandhgala.
Like every Republic Day since that of 2013, today was an occasion to take these cover-all pieces of black beauty, dust the lint off, and wear it all, with a crossed flag pin. Republic Day is the most suited (pun intended) occasion for wearing it. With the cold weather (which seems all the more freezing this time), the bandhgala embraces one with maternal warmth. On Independence Days, that is replaced by paternal discipline! On those days the pride of donning this attire just barely overcomes the infernal heat inside, in the middle of humid August.Its official name is Jodhpuri Suit. It is a ceremonial dress prescribed in the Government (I would say, 'by' the government, but then, i don't have the notification for that!) Like almost all things symbolic about this Republic, even the ceremonial dress was born out of the deliberations of our Founding Fathers. While many other, more 'ethnic' dresses were proposed, finally, due to sheer practicality, the Jodhpuri suit won. There was a final twist though. (There was a magazine article about this sometime back, but since Google is failing me now, you must take it as an apocryphal story from someone who reads and remembers such trivia.) Like many decisions taken then (viz. State attendance at Somnath Temple Consecration, the de-facto extent of Presidential powers etc), the form of the ceremonial dress also saw a sparring between the first President of the Republic and the Prime Minister. While both of them agreed on the Jodhpuri suit, the President wanted it to be worn with a blue sash! I, for one, am quite grateful that the PM prevailed, for a sash would have appeared quite ridiculous, especially without the various medallions of various Orders that adorned the sashes of the Viceregal (and other Civil Servant's) dresses.The founding fathers did not resolve the issue of a ceremonial headgear though. Normally the issue does not arise. However, in our country, national occasions are times to crucify those in public life over perceived, or worse, liberally construed, insult to national symbols! In fact, a well bribed subordinate can lead to quite spectacular pickles. Once, in Meerut, I had spotted that the (yet to be unfurled) flag was tied green side up. I refused to pull the halyard, without the mistake being rectified, and hence our flag was unfurled quite delayed. Still, the next day, the local papers carried the premeditated headlines about the flag flying upside down atop Meerut Tehsil! Mercifully I had not given them the photograph to go along with it. Thus, our national occasions are very much ruled the protocol-nazis, and some of them have decreed that the person hoisting a flag should cover his head. It stems from the common protocol of uniforms, where one may not render a salute with the head uncovered, and the flag, when hoisted, must be saluted. While the flag code specifically decrees - "3.31 During the ceremony of hoisting or lowering the Flag or when the Flag is passing in a parade or in a review, all persons present should face the Flag and stand at attention. Those present in uniform should render the appropriate salute. When the Flag is in a moving column, persons present will stand at attention or salute as the Flag passes them. A dignitary may take the salute without a head dress", no one has the patience to explain that to the protocol-nazis. Hence, the dignitaries cover their heads while hoisting the national flag. Usually it comes in the form of the white side-cap, colloquially known as the Gandhi cap. Personally, I find it more unsightly than Dr. Rajendra Prasad's blue sash! One tries to improvise with the woollen (VP Singh?) cap etc. Recently, on the cue of the PM, we have started sporting the bright saafaas, which, honestly, look much in place, being closer to the pagadis which are traditionally worn with jodhpuri dresses. I do hope this trend crystallizes.Growing up, aspiring to join the Civil Services was not as glamorous, as it is now, in the wake of movies and serials like 12th Fail, or Aspirants. I remember, in our MBA class of around 60, we three civil service aspirants were kind of outcasts, and subject of professorial ridicule. Even then, the Orkut pictures of successful candidates (who had taken the personality and medical tests with me, but had left me behind in the final selection!), in black bandhgalas, fascinated me. This dress was an aspirational dream. Later, as probationers of Railway Engineering Services (where we, as a rule, take pride in not being formal at all) at Railway Staff College, Vadodara, we avoided even wearing a tie, and used to call the probationers of the Railway Civil Services 'Darbaan' (waiters) when they donned their bandhgalas in the warm Vadodara Republic Day morning! That shoe was on the other foot about two years later. We, as IAS probationers, were on our Parliamentary visit to New Delhi. In our Bandhgalas, we had met, and got ourselves photographed with the President (Dr. Pranab Mukherjee), the Prime Minister (Dr. Manmohan Singh), the Vice President (Dr. Hamid Ansari) and the Speaker. Obviously, our heads were quite swollen as we sauntered around the atrium of Hotel Samrat - us Men in Black. Out of the blue, one lady asked one of us to help take her luggage to the room. She had obviously confused him with the hotel staff! While the guy was quick on the uptake and located an actual bellboy quite quickly, he remained the butt of our jokes for long.Well, contrary to the perception, the bandhgala is not a uniform for the Civil services, or for the IAS in particular. It is a ceremonial dress of the government. Probationers, even of the uniformed services, wear it in the ceremonial occasions during training, and uniformed officers wear them when receiving some non service specific medals and honours. Political and diplomatic dignitaries also wear it. Somehow, the perception about the Bandhgala being the uniform of the administration is quite rampant, especially in the judiciary. It is hard to explain to the Courts that appearance before them is not a ceremonial occasion, and barring winter seasons, it is not humanly possible to keep the bandhgala on for the duration of such appearances. Recently, it had led to a situation where Courts were objecting so much to officers appearing in working dress (and some people made a business of making schadenfreude themed instagram reels about it) that the Hon. Supreme Court had to intervene and lay down the law that judges need not comment on the apparel of officers appearing before them!For all our love-hate relationship with it, the bandhgala still serves as a reminder. A reminder of awesome duty we volunteered for, and of our good fortune and the privilege that has been bestowed on us for that purpose, by the system of this country; bestowed on us with the belief that we retain the idealism we had when we aspired for it, and when we donned it for the first time. As I reminded my colleagues on this Republic Day, it is quite easy to get lost in the mundane part of the job - reports to be given, review meetings to be endured, boss's (and super-boss's) yelling to be endured, and PowerPoint to be presented. Yet, such National Holidays give us time to get in touch with the larger picture; the grand scheme of things. The day we, in our bandhgalas, took the oath of the Constitution, and the pledge to serve. To serve, not by being literally servile, but by ensuring that our net effort goes towards ameliorating the situation of us all - the people of India, who enacted, adopted and gave to ourselves this Constitution.
