It has been an eventful 3 month period since the last post. To justify blogging as a real hobby, and not merely a 'resume hobby' (which is put to rest as soon as the resume is useless), this has to come. Since I am about to join the Foundation Course for Civil Services at Lal Bahadur Shastri National Academy of Administration, Mussoorie (Academy, for short), and such courses usually bring out more serious articles from me, I though it prudent to write down something light-hearted before the light is put out from the heart!
First of all, I left the Indian Railway Stores Service on 30th August, 2012. With that, I left behind a world that was in some way or the other connected to me all this time - one of those ways was the fact that for the first time in my entire life, no Railway Pass entitles me to free carriage on board Indian Railways. I have travelled on paid fare many times before, and in fact, in the last month, I've blown some serious amount of cash on travelling (more on that later), but it was always somewhere in the back of my mind that I could get a free ride if I wanted to. Since the moment of my birth some quarter of a century ago, I was covered under my Dad's passes. On employment, I became ineligible for those passes, but since my employer was also Indian Railways, I simply switched over to passes issued in my own name and right. Now, yesterday, I was removed from access to this bounty, something that will surely and sorely be missed. The leaving itself was a complicated affair. One discovered strange phenomenons that defied accepted ideas - the fact that a lowly clerk was in a better know of the work, and was striving hard to get it done, and a Gazetted Group 'A' Officer was the one putting a spanner in the works (in most Academies, like the one I'm about to join, it is taught that it happens the other way round). In fact she was not putting any spanner in the work, but it looked like spanner designed solely to be put into the work! It did get messy, and finally, I had to blink - for the time, for which I was fighting, was running out. Round one to you b***h! Otherwise, people were largely cooperative - had a decent farewell - everyone spoke good, some of it even appeared genuine! Oh, I may sound dismissive - but then, I haven't actually left the Railways - I'll leave the Railways only when I leave this world! Technically, I'm still on the lien of Western Railway and have the option of joining back within 2 years. Non technically - one can't leave what has been the whole background of one's upbringing - Railway colony, Railway Quarters, Railway School, Railway folklore. So, the railwayman continues to live on, inside.
Next thing that I left behind was Mumbai - I believe this one is for good. as someone destined to spend his life in Akbarpurs and Barabankis of this world, it was good that my life till now has given me opportunity to live in the two megapolises of India - the two years at Delhi and the nearly 1 and half years in Mumbai - I'm counting since the time we came for the first Zonal training. For a small town guy like me, it was astonishing how I took to Mumbai like fish to water. But then, in some sense, it was a city designed for me - a place where one can live anonymously, and depend on the markets to provide for everything, in every price range. I'm really going to miss those strolls on the Carter Road promenade (not so much the Marine Drive promenade). In fact, before checking out of Mumbai, I did one more round of the place - and it still felt like home! And I'm going to miss Mumbai Suburban Railways (the Locals) - no mass rapid transport system in the world can match it, in my opinion - in volumes, in comfort for the price, in frequency - in sheer charm! And last but not the least, I'll miss those vada-paos. They symbolize Mumbai in many ways.
As I said earlier, I've blown loads of cash travelling these 3 months - most of that on flying. So, this month I flew commercially for the first time in my life (I'm still counting that microlight aircraft flight at Deolali 2 years ago as my first flight). As I have said, I've been covered by the privilege passes since the day of my birth. So, any budgeting decision of riding the rails vs flying ended up with zero on the denominator, and gave me infinite reasons(!!) not to fly. However, two things happened this month. First of all, the time was running out due to shenanigans of one particular officer who shall not be named, and I really needed to utilize my leave when I finally conceded defeat and applied for the leave. Secondly (this being more relevant to my second flight), the cover of free privilege passes was withdrawn, and the resulting ratio had 2000 in the denominator, and infinity of earlier climbed down to a modest 4. Was I willing to pay 4 times to spend some one and a half day extra at home? Back of the envelope calculation shows that though we get 30 days paid leave, hardly any gazetted officer gets to utilize even one fourth of those. So, basically, our leaves are actually 4 times worth 1 day's salary. so one and a half day turns out to be 6 times a day's salary - approx 6000 bucks - that makes up for even the peak airfare. And so, I flew. I must say I liked the Mumbai Airport - especially the first floor - it resembled the best I had seen in movies. The flying itself was a strange feeling. Not the take off or landing, but the mere fact that one woke up in Mumbai and was in Patna at lunch time. It is said that the first railway passengers could hardly believe they had arrived at their destination so quickly. something similar happened here too. at least the Railway pioneers had some landmarks going past them at high speed. In my case, from 35000 feet - it all looks like a blue expanse - nothing else. You take off, see the familiar building, vehicles and trains, and then you climb higher into the blue zone, and in an hour, you are hovering over the Delhi buildings and landing - one may have as well travelled between dimensions! I actually checked on my GPS to make sure I was in Delhi!
Finally, comes the philosophical observation of the day. I've been packing lots of stuff - fancy clothing stuff, for the Foundation Course. All this needless and enforced pageantry has led me to one of the bitter truths of human life. Either you are a top dog, with others questioning your right to be one, and doing their utmost to make you miserable, or you are someone's bitch - no one questions your right to be one, but being their ain't pretty. There is no period of 'live and let live'. RSC was one bitch period, followed by a top dog stint, with the associated expectations, and now we are re-entering the bitch phase, where the joy of being without any large responsibility is smothered by enforced inanities. Well, that's life - and that's how we report it - as it happens.
First of all, I left the Indian Railway Stores Service on 30th August, 2012. With that, I left behind a world that was in some way or the other connected to me all this time - one of those ways was the fact that for the first time in my entire life, no Railway Pass entitles me to free carriage on board Indian Railways. I have travelled on paid fare many times before, and in fact, in the last month, I've blown some serious amount of cash on travelling (more on that later), but it was always somewhere in the back of my mind that I could get a free ride if I wanted to. Since the moment of my birth some quarter of a century ago, I was covered under my Dad's passes. On employment, I became ineligible for those passes, but since my employer was also Indian Railways, I simply switched over to passes issued in my own name and right. Now, yesterday, I was removed from access to this bounty, something that will surely and sorely be missed. The leaving itself was a complicated affair. One discovered strange phenomenons that defied accepted ideas - the fact that a lowly clerk was in a better know of the work, and was striving hard to get it done, and a Gazetted Group 'A' Officer was the one putting a spanner in the works (in most Academies, like the one I'm about to join, it is taught that it happens the other way round). In fact she was not putting any spanner in the work, but it looked like spanner designed solely to be put into the work! It did get messy, and finally, I had to blink - for the time, for which I was fighting, was running out. Round one to you b***h! Otherwise, people were largely cooperative - had a decent farewell - everyone spoke good, some of it even appeared genuine! Oh, I may sound dismissive - but then, I haven't actually left the Railways - I'll leave the Railways only when I leave this world! Technically, I'm still on the lien of Western Railway and have the option of joining back within 2 years. Non technically - one can't leave what has been the whole background of one's upbringing - Railway colony, Railway Quarters, Railway School, Railway folklore. So, the railwayman continues to live on, inside.
Next thing that I left behind was Mumbai - I believe this one is for good. as someone destined to spend his life in Akbarpurs and Barabankis of this world, it was good that my life till now has given me opportunity to live in the two megapolises of India - the two years at Delhi and the nearly 1 and half years in Mumbai - I'm counting since the time we came for the first Zonal training. For a small town guy like me, it was astonishing how I took to Mumbai like fish to water. But then, in some sense, it was a city designed for me - a place where one can live anonymously, and depend on the markets to provide for everything, in every price range. I'm really going to miss those strolls on the Carter Road promenade (not so much the Marine Drive promenade). In fact, before checking out of Mumbai, I did one more round of the place - and it still felt like home! And I'm going to miss Mumbai Suburban Railways (the Locals) - no mass rapid transport system in the world can match it, in my opinion - in volumes, in comfort for the price, in frequency - in sheer charm! And last but not the least, I'll miss those vada-paos. They symbolize Mumbai in many ways.
As I said earlier, I've blown loads of cash travelling these 3 months - most of that on flying. So, this month I flew commercially for the first time in my life (I'm still counting that microlight aircraft flight at Deolali 2 years ago as my first flight). As I have said, I've been covered by the privilege passes since the day of my birth. So, any budgeting decision of riding the rails vs flying ended up with zero on the denominator, and gave me infinite reasons(!!) not to fly. However, two things happened this month. First of all, the time was running out due to shenanigans of one particular officer who shall not be named, and I really needed to utilize my leave when I finally conceded defeat and applied for the leave. Secondly (this being more relevant to my second flight), the cover of free privilege passes was withdrawn, and the resulting ratio had 2000 in the denominator, and infinity of earlier climbed down to a modest 4. Was I willing to pay 4 times to spend some one and a half day extra at home? Back of the envelope calculation shows that though we get 30 days paid leave, hardly any gazetted officer gets to utilize even one fourth of those. So, basically, our leaves are actually 4 times worth 1 day's salary. so one and a half day turns out to be 6 times a day's salary - approx 6000 bucks - that makes up for even the peak airfare. And so, I flew. I must say I liked the Mumbai Airport - especially the first floor - it resembled the best I had seen in movies. The flying itself was a strange feeling. Not the take off or landing, but the mere fact that one woke up in Mumbai and was in Patna at lunch time. It is said that the first railway passengers could hardly believe they had arrived at their destination so quickly. something similar happened here too. at least the Railway pioneers had some landmarks going past them at high speed. In my case, from 35000 feet - it all looks like a blue expanse - nothing else. You take off, see the familiar building, vehicles and trains, and then you climb higher into the blue zone, and in an hour, you are hovering over the Delhi buildings and landing - one may have as well travelled between dimensions! I actually checked on my GPS to make sure I was in Delhi!
Finally, comes the philosophical observation of the day. I've been packing lots of stuff - fancy clothing stuff, for the Foundation Course. All this needless and enforced pageantry has led me to one of the bitter truths of human life. Either you are a top dog, with others questioning your right to be one, and doing their utmost to make you miserable, or you are someone's bitch - no one questions your right to be one, but being their ain't pretty. There is no period of 'live and let live'. RSC was one bitch period, followed by a top dog stint, with the associated expectations, and now we are re-entering the bitch phase, where the joy of being without any large responsibility is smothered by enforced inanities. Well, that's life - and that's how we report it - as it happens.
