Baptism by fire

President Shankar Dayal Sharma will never have known how close I came to facing the most embarrassing moment of my life, albeit on account of his having done the right thing. 1995, I was Joint Secretary in the Ministry of Agriculture of the Government of India.

I had been made responsible for organising the “Agri Expo 1995” exhibition in Pragati Maidan situated near the Old Fort in Delhi. The then minister of agriculture Balram Jhakar had invited the President of India to inaugurate the Exposition. The President had been “pleased’ (as the President always is, even while sacking a civil servant!) to accept the invitation.

Extensive and elaborate arrangements had been made for the function. The military staff from Rashtrapati Bhavan, the Delhi Police and others made several visits to the venue to check on the arrangements being made. Finally, after weeks of hard work, everything had been put in place. I reached the venue well ahead of the appointed time, for a last minute dotting of the “i”s and crossing of the “t”s as it were.

The President was fulfilling another engagement in the same premises. As the venue was nearby I walked across the place. Finding the Deputy Military Secretary to the President (DMSP) there, I accosted him and casually sought confirmation that the President would arrive to inaugurate the Exposition as expected. The DMSP consulted his papers and shocked me out of my wits when he said “the President has no further engagements today.”

I figured out that apparently there was some gap in communication between the Delhi Administration and the Rashtrapati Bhavan. Not wanting even to think about the hideous consequences of a “no show” by the First Citizen, and the enormous embarrassment to the agriculture ministry, to be followed, no doubt, by the direst consequences to yours faithfully, I made a few telephone calls.

By then there were but a few minutes left for the commencement of the programme. People looked at me curiously as I ran frantically to the nearest Telephone Booth (Yes. No mobile phones those days!) I must have made a curious spectacle indeed trying to break sprint records all dressed up in a buttoned up coat. Fortunately Rashtrapati Bhavan was able to confirm that the President would, after all, keep his date with the agriculture ministry.

By that time the shoe was pinching on the other foot. As I returned to the stall, gasping for breath, I found that an unexpected mishap had occurred compounding my misery. And I began to wish with all my might that the President would not, for a change, arrive on the dot.

Punctuality is probably the greatest of social and professional virtues. When not observed it can cause wastage of valuable time for everyone concerned. I have always set great store by the need for being on time for all events, whether it is a meeting, a function or a journey.

In administration however, things revolve round political leaders who are rarely masters of their own time having, as they do, to accommodate the demands of a number of persons to whom they need to remain accessible and available. Running late and, what is worse, catching people by surprise by earlier-than-scheduled appearances, is par for the course.

The President of India and the Governors of States as Heads of State are, however, an exception to this rule. Their movements and schedules are drawn up meticulously and followed scrupulously. No deviations ever occur, which is why I was hoping against hope that the arrival of the President would, on that occasion, fall among the exceptions to the rule and be slightly delayed.

I recalled the words of JC Pant, my secretary. While entrusting to me the responsibility of organising Agri Expo, literally the very next day after I had taken over as Joint Secretary, he had smiled sympathetically saying “Baptism by fire, eh”? Little had I realised, at that time, what a horrid experience it was to turn out to be.

I smiled wryly to myself, thinking that surviving that crisis would be of an acid test of my abilities and alertness, and hoping that I would emerge, much to cattle did in the Wild West, of yore branded and proved worthy, though scarred. The scene that confronted me upon my return to the stall was frightening to say the least. At the entrance to the stall, and a highlight among the exhibits, was a grain of rice thousands of years of old.

We had procured it from a museum of the Indian Council of Agricultural Research (ICAR) after having made solemn promises and signed many assurances of indemnity. It was presented in a crucible and displayed in a glass case mounted on a table and was lit up by an electric bulb. A malfunction in the wiring had caused a short circuit and a fire had broken out. The resultant smoke was rising in ominous eddies from the case. Though it was just a small spark, within minutes the whole stall was filled with smoke.

The small rotating disk upon which the grain sat had ground to a halt. Needless to say there was utter chaos all around us, with people running helter-skelter like headless chicken. Fortunately however a couple of smart electricians with cool heads quickly rectified the defect. All was well within a minute or two.

By the time Shankar Dayal Sharma arrived, normalcy had been restored. The smiles had returned to our faces and the ceremonial reception as well as the visit to the stall by the VVIP (Very Very Important Persons) went off without further ado. I recollect with amusement how, for some time on that day, I fervently wished that commitments once made by the President would remain firm while, at the same time, hoping that exceptions were also possible!