There was this daring dacoity in Jalpaiguri that had quite rattled up the residents of that sleepy town. The police had come in for a lot of flak from people and media alike for their slothful response to the distress calls of the victims, and with none of its people involved for a change, even the ruling party lashed out at the men in khaki. So when the Deputy Inspector General or DIG entered the small room in which senior officers were waiting at New Jalpaiguri station on a crisp December morning for the Home Minister to arrive by Darjeeling Mail, the Superintendent of Police (SP) expected a torrid time from his superior. Sure enough, the DIG came straight to the point and started his inquiries rather aggressively.
'Sir, actually the engine of the thana jeep developed some trouble, and diverting another vehicle which had been sent to the other side of town for night patrolling led to the delay ,' the SP threw a bait -of -an- explanation and waited.
'Trouble? What kind of trouble? What make was the vehicle?' the DIG enquired, grabbing the bait unknowingly.
' Arrey, that was a pretty good vehicle, I remember doing Falakata under 45 minutes in it when it had been brought a couple of years ago,' the DIG said, quickly recalling the beige- coloured vehicle.
' Of course, sir, how can I forget, we had even been to Gorumara from there and driven to Sankos Tea Estate the following morning,' the SP joined him, not quite forgetting the decision he had made after they had returned never to drive with DIG at the wheel, quite rattled with his maniacal rashness.
' So what had happened, was there some kachra in the carburettor ?" the DIG asked , his anxiety for his old favourite jeep paramount now.
"I think you should check up the quality of fuel we are getting at the police pump," the DIG passed his first instruction in the instant dacoity case, and further remarked on the quality of MICO spark plugs and the fuel ingestion systems, before concluding with stories of running road repairs he had undertaken during his maiden drive from New Delhi to Calcutta many years ago. The dacoity case was forgotten, the chance to get at the SP and his team squandered, and soon the Darjeeling Mail chugged in, the red-coloured locomotive announcing its arrival with a hoot, a series of hisses and thousands of flies around it. The Home Minister alighted, in black glasses and white punjabi and dhoti and we went away, the constables shooing away , with typical insensitivity, people at the platform, ramp and stairs as if they were intruding goats or cattle.
I am telling you this because it had beome common knowledge that whenever one wanted to duck this DIG's inquisition, one only had to plop down the subject of cars and driving, There was another officer who was very fastidious about the cleanliness of the campus and the uniform, and not much else. During his annual inspections, the OCs would turn out in their best, clean the fans and lavatories and floors, and even dust up the top of the switchboards - and came out on top even if the registers were not updated and investigations done shoddily.
So I was fairly surprised when I read in a blog by Walter Chen that Google, to find out "what makes a successful leader" , had " taken an evidence approach" on the basis of "upward feedback surveys…. reams of data, tens of thousands of on the job success", and " crunched the numbers " to conclude that even if it made them boring, " leaders must be predictable and consistent, because then employees grasp that within certain parameters , they can do whatever that want". John Cameron, a leadership author says that "one of the most important and overlooked characteristics a good leader must have is consistency or predictability".
What is your take on this? Should leaders be predictable or not? I shall await your reply after you go through this story I heard from one of my ex DGs during our journey to Jungle Mahal day before yesterday.
The incident related to his days as a young SDPO of Chandanagore and he talked about one of his SPs who, whenever visiting a police station, would sit in the OCs chair and ask the poor OC or Bada babu to read out the FIR of cases picked up at random, never for once bothering to read them himself.
' You know Vivek, there was this terrible road accident , followed by a road block in Singur, the traffic was held up and it was quite a job even for me to talk to the crowd to agree to lift the blockade and allow removal of the dead body,' he recalled an event , the type of which is all too common in West Bengal.
It had taken them over an hour to normalise the movement of traffic on the road and send the dead body for post mortem examination after which they returned to the PS only to find the SP, Hooghly enter within minutes of them.
"Bada Babu, I am sure the FIR has been lodged by this time now " the SP said in a taken for granted voice.
'Yes saar,' the OC snapped back in compliance, ' SDPO saab o dekhe niyechhen ( the SDPO has also seen it).'
The young SDPO could not believe his ears . He had not seen the FIR and was hundred per cent sure the complaint had not been lodged because the mejho babu ( the second officer) had been tasked to find a complainant just minutes before the SP had arrived.
' Read it aloud,' the SP ordered, clasping his hands behind his neck and playfully swivelling in the OC's chair.
'Vivek, I tell you, I hadn't seen anything as brazen as this,' he leaned across his seat to tell, 'this OC took up the FIR book, put on his thick reading glasses , cleared his throat for a while, and then, gazing at a blank page held close to him, rattled away one of the most complete- in -details of an FIR I have ever heard!'
' My eyes almost popped out in disbelief, ' he added excitedly, with his eyes almost popping out.
The SP was satisfied, never for a moment he asked for the FIR book to check and verify and after having his customary cup of tea , went away.
'Sorry sir', the OC said, ' otherwise Bodosaheb kheye phelto ( the SP would have chewed me up).'
