Public dealing is a mixed bag. Having been in public life for quite some time, I can look back with some satisfaction as I have come across more good people than not-so- good ones. It has been my endeavour to treat my office as a trust and the belief, that public servants are there because of the public and therefore for public only, has helped me wear a sympathetic and helping attitude towards public at large.
Despite this I have had my share of bouquets and brickbats, not that this has made any big difference to my otherwise eventless career so far.
While working as a Government functionary, in the tribal district of Kinnaur-authorized to issue inner line permits to foreigners, to enable them to visit, stay and travel in and beyond Kinnaur i.e. towards the Spiti valley- I have come across all sorts of people.
Most of them would come smiling and greet me with a Namastay , but here I am talking of a few persons, etched deep in my memory.
There was this seventeen year old girl, set out all alone without any company or guide to undertake Parikrama of Kinner Kailash, which involved trekking for 2-3 days, whom I had to refuse permission keeping in view her own safety. As per practice, permission is given only to a group of minimum four persons. My refusal drew her virtually to tears, but I remained firm. In retrospect, I consider it a wise decision, because, had I given her the permission, and God forbid, if something untoward had happened to her on the way, besides facing my own guilt, I would have been subjected to official action.
Then there was this gentleman, who, I was told, had been visiting every alternate year- coming with a packet of sweets for my office superintendent,being his old acquaintance, as goodwill.
There was this gentleman, accompanied by his wife and two kids- who had made Kullu valley his home- shabbily dressed even by rural Indian standards, and but for his nice American accent could easily pass for a poor local farmhand , speaking fluent Hindi/Urdu. He told me that the local people called him “ghorey wala goor” i.e. a clairvoyant with a horse.
A gentleman clicked my photographs in my office with his digicam to “show back home that this is the officer who permitted me to proceed on journey through Kinnaur”. There were many who were full of gratitude that they were issued permits without any hassles.
Last, there was this lady from an Asian country, whose husband was travelling on an expired visa, and she was insisting upon me - as if I was duty bound to do so - to inquire about the renewal of visa from the concerned embassy in Delhi. Driven to exasperation by her irritant behaviour, I had to send her to the local Police authorities to deal with her in a suitable manner.
Despite this I have had my share of bouquets and brickbats, not that this has made any big difference to my otherwise eventless career so far.
While working as a Government functionary, in the tribal district of Kinnaur-authorized to issue inner line permits to foreigners, to enable them to visit, stay and travel in and beyond Kinnaur i.e. towards the Spiti valley- I have come across all sorts of people.
Most of them would come smiling and greet me with a Namastay , but here I am talking of a few persons, etched deep in my memory.
There was this seventeen year old girl, set out all alone without any company or guide to undertake Parikrama of Kinner Kailash, which involved trekking for 2-3 days, whom I had to refuse permission keeping in view her own safety. As per practice, permission is given only to a group of minimum four persons. My refusal drew her virtually to tears, but I remained firm. In retrospect, I consider it a wise decision, because, had I given her the permission, and God forbid, if something untoward had happened to her on the way, besides facing my own guilt, I would have been subjected to official action.
Then there was this gentleman, who, I was told, had been visiting every alternate year- coming with a packet of sweets for my office superintendent,being his old acquaintance, as goodwill.
There was this gentleman, accompanied by his wife and two kids- who had made Kullu valley his home- shabbily dressed even by rural Indian standards, and but for his nice American accent could easily pass for a poor local farmhand , speaking fluent Hindi/Urdu. He told me that the local people called him “ghorey wala goor” i.e. a clairvoyant with a horse.
A gentleman clicked my photographs in my office with his digicam to “show back home that this is the officer who permitted me to proceed on journey through Kinnaur”. There were many who were full of gratitude that they were issued permits without any hassles.
Last, there was this lady from an Asian country, whose husband was travelling on an expired visa, and she was insisting upon me - as if I was duty bound to do so - to inquire about the renewal of visa from the concerned embassy in Delhi. Driven to exasperation by her irritant behaviour, I had to send her to the local Police authorities to deal with her in a suitable manner.
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ReplyDeleteBy being in this job you definitely would have dealt with all sorta people.
I feel Americans are very arrogant while good bad all kinda people are everywhere.
Through this post I came across lot many new things and also how much an officer faces in such situations. It's indeed tough to deal with nagging customers.
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hmmm quite a motley crowd i must say
ReplyDeletebtw, you did you bachelors in literature and worked as English lecturer for a while, didn't you? switched jobs later? To ?
I did my Masters in English way back in the seventies. Taught for a while ; landed a bank job which i did for seven years. Made it to the state civil services in 1984. Shall call it a day within a few months . After my retirement, I may share some experiences of public life through blogs ! Thanks for moving backwards to read my posts !
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