“If a probationer will not commit mistakes, then who will”. By this yardstick, constantly reiterated by men who had a big heart , huge patience and great commitment towards their Service fledglings’ training , I was an ideal probationer in the days when the waist was sub- 30 and weight under 60.
On my first day with the training Superintendent of Police in Burdwan , I had knocked violently on his shoulder --- copiously sleep-deprived . I had my share of goof ups with the police uniform - once I reported at the Muster Parade without a peak cap. Of course, it was nothing compared to the occasion a few years later when a Head of Police Force arrived at Combined Police parade wearing his sword on the wrong side - it is not a mean feat, and requires a huge leap of faith in a daft homeguard to kit you up. 
The Holi in 1990 at Galsi Police station provided me with an insight into the social habits of the local people. In utter disregard of Sub Inspector Bhagwandas Sur’s advice of serving sweets severally in small plates to guests , I had initially placed about 15 rosogollas in a big plate expecting it to go around. Nothing of that sort happened, one fellow accepted the whole lot with much reluctance , and proceeded to pop them in, one by one in a cavern beyond his hoopla. I , too, accompanied him - with squirm and shock . The Circle Inspector attachment was used by the the Inspector to regale me with stories of his thana days with a huge array of SsP. But one level of police deployment I had never worked with during my probationary days was the police camp. My only acquaintance was with a camp set up in Guhagram in connection with release of waters by the DVC - having just visited it once.
Police camps are usually set up for a temporary period - to restore normalcy in a locality.They could be placed for as short as a day, and extend to much longer period of months, if not years. There are all kinds of camps- quite a few of the armed police personnel loved it for the perquisites of Halting Allowances or even a steady supply of fish in the bheri camps. Some camps are set deep in very hostile settings - looting of arms and killing of security forces have been reported from Purbasthali during the Naxal movement of 1960s and 1970s and in Silda in 2010.
Very often, once the camp was set up, all kinds of pressure would be brought upon to prevent its withdrawal as it afforded a sense of security in distant areas- when I was Addl SP Nadia, there were 37 camps of a section strength each in Karimnagar PS, an area ravaged by cattle thieves,dacoits, and women abusers from across the border in those unfenced days. Many a time when a battalion commandant would send vehicle to close a camp, locals would gherao and prevent its closure.
But sometimes, people would be eager to have the police camps removed. I recall an incident in Tamluk which was my first posting in service. Tamluk is now the headquarter of Purbo Midnapore , those days it was a sub divisional town under undivided Midnapore. Famous as Tamralipti in ancient towns as a river port, it has museum which chronicles this antiquity. To the religious minded, the Bargabhima mandir is a top draw. Its revolutionary pedigree is borne by its association with Khudiram Bose, Matangini Hazra, and Sushil Dhara who was a co founder of Tamralipta Jatiya Sarkar during Quit India Movement. The place was also famous for cultivation of betel leaf while the Sunday highpoint in those days would be the screening of a movie by the Tamluk Cine Society.
There was a village , I now forget the name, but it was on the road to Mecheda, where two warring Muslim families were locked in dispute over control of some waqf property. Quite often , there would be violence followed by registration of cases and counter cases . In due course of time, this led to a demand for placing a police camp to prevent further escalation of violence , and a motley of home guards, NVF and a few policemen were under ASI Hiranmoy Sikdar.
It was now over a month that the camp had been set up, and I decided to pay a visit to the village. So one afternoon, with Pannalal Goswami, my OC of Tamluk PS and Gaurango Mitra, the tall and handsome Circle Inspector , I went. The weather was muggy, the path from where we alighted muddy, and very soon , the train of excited people which had been following us , became a huge crowd.It was a medium sized village, with a few ponds, large number of and coconut trees, with surprisingly few fruits . A few elders took to swooshing and shushing away the loud curiosity of children and livestock , and suddenly out of nowhere a few chairs and a matted cot were offered for us .
Camp- in -charge ASI Hiranmoy Sikdar appeared, a bit off balanced at our surprise visit, in a uniform which clearly appeared not to have been worn for quite some time.
“Saar,” he saluted and knocked off his spectacles , out of lack of practice and surprise I thought.
But what really bemused me was the camaraderie between some people whom I had seen abusing each other during their thana visits. While some were making all the show of friendliness, two of them took the OC aside , and were requesting him for something with folded hands. Pannalal Goswami broke into a smile soon came up to me with them.
“Saar,” he said, “ they have promised me not to fight again, we could withdraw the police camp.”
“Are you sure”, I asked the crowd, “ camp ta tule nebo?”
“ Yes,” they chorused, the ladies, nearly all with children in arms, seemed firmer in their resolve.
“ Amader jhaagda ta mitey gechhe”, they said. I looked with wondrous awe at the fumbling and feeble ASI, in admiration of his skills at salishi or negotiations, at having resolved the disputes when a bunch of cases and a clutch of 107 CrPC prosecutions had failed.
Very soon, after accepting ASI Hiranmoy hospitality of daab or green coconut water , we left, after leaving orders over wireless for quick dispatch of the thana 1 tonner to come and pick up the camp personnel.
“ Bada Babu”, I remarked through the smoke of a cigarette lit in relief after reaching the thana,” I never knew this Hiranmoy could be so effective.”
“ What exactly did he do, and what were those two telling you?”
“Saar,” Pannalal said, gently placing a cup of tea from a tray before me.
“Please remove the camp otherwise we will will be doomed .“
“Everyday, we get an earful from our women.”
“Why, what happened ? This guy would misbehave with them ? I thought he looked pretty harmless?”
“No sir, “ Pannalal smiled wider, “ they were saying at the rate Hiranmoy orders their plucking , no daab stands a chance of becoming a proper coconut. So we decided to resolve our differences !”
“ Sir, ekta o dab narikol hotey paarbe na,” OC Pannalal Goswami, policeman, cricket umpire, magician and snake catcher, translated for effect.
I drank in the sweet tea, sucked harder at the cigarette, and blew out a ring to garland this wonderful doctrine of Green Coconut Policing of ASI Hiranmoy Sikdar.
“Put up a handsome reward roll tomorrow for him,” I said and left the thana.
