DILLI DIARY

After a long time  I avail a Banga Bhavan car during my trip to Dilli . The driver  , tall and bearded , in whites and a thin waistcoat , is at Terminal 1 to receive me . The light is fading, the smog makes  for a grainy vision, and we follow a trail of a thousand cars- lit by the tail lights working overtime as they brake more than move. The driver informs me that Dilli has 8. 5 crore vehicles , that Metro takes in close to 40 lac passengers everyday .
8.5 crores !! That stops me in my tracks . Here I am , to take part in a meeting on road safety , for West Bengal, having probably the third highest road network in the country, with a registered vehicular fleet totalling just over  85 lacs ! Later I found out, it wasn’t 8.5 crore but maybe 1.5 .

Still, even  1.5 crores in just one city was humongous, and it explains  the long traffic jams , new multi laned superhighways notwithstanding. One doesn’t tackle obesity by increasing the trouser’s waistline. It will , in a short while, demand another increase. One does it by diet control. Ditto with traffic congestion - not my original. I had picked this up from someone at the World Road Meet in 2017, liked it and repeated it quite often.

The driver laughed at the analogy.

“Kahaan se kam hoga, ek ek ghar mei teen chaar gadiyaaN haiN.”

I tell him about how completely lost  I have felt in Dilli since the Commonwealth Games. I just can’t seem to find my way to places , with new flyovers , snaking elevated metro tracks , and skywalks. We drive  to East Kidwai Nagar through affluent areas where there was space large enough for the pedestrian to walk and walk his dog . One item on our agenda for the meeting is about Street Vendors Act . West Bengal , with a very high population to road ratio , is expected to keep its pavement unencumbered for the pedestrian .

The driver  is garrulous .

“ If I shave my beard , I would look younger than the other much -younger drivers of Banga Bhavan .”

“ What’s your name ?”

“Anil. “

And then it strikes  me . He was part of the Banga Bhavan team of drivers who  were in service when I used to visit , about 25 years ago , as ADC to Prof Nurul Hasan , the Governor of Bengal . I tell  him I have now placed him - young , jean clad handsome chap . He is delighted. He says he has also been grappling with his memory to place me, but the period in between today and our last encounter and my increased waistline  has blurred the recall.

Anyone who had touched the late Governor Nurul Hasan could never come away without a pot of anecdotes . We reminisce about his visits and entourage - the other ADCs like Mariah,  Hrishikesh and Rakesh Chhillar, the doctors, the nurse , Tulsi the thin attendant with a thinner voice , Kulwant Singh his PA, Baji , his sister , his children, and so many .

We talk about the time the Governor had thrown a party at 2 Circular Road, inviting all MPs of the state and the entire cabinet of late Pradhan Mantri  Narasimha Raoji. They came in big numbers , including the polyglot and highly learned Pradhan Mantriji . A lavish spread had been laid out , chosen by the Governor’s old cook, and of course, approved by His Excellency who was very particular about food he offered his guests.

Actually , many mornings my first encounter with the Governor would be in his residence where his CA Kulwant Singh would be huddled with a pen and notebook taking down his boss’s dictation on the menu of the day , and air and travel itinerary of the Governor and of the staff . Wasted he may have been , but above the neck , he was one of the sharpest and possessed a photographic memory . He could reel off dictation for three four journeys without looking at either the Bradshaw or the Indian Airlines time table.

The cook was  from Rampur. . He came as a fifteen year old lad , accompanying the Nawab of Rampur’s eldest daughter during her marriage to Syed Nurul Hasan and was  as bossy as the Governor was gracious and self effacing . I forget his name, probably Jamil.When the governor would eat well, and his gastronomic indulgences never went unnoticed , Jamil would cook fabulously   lest be ticked off by his master. The Governor was very famous for his hospitality, especially food, and beamed at the compliments the guests showered.

But when prof. Syed Nurul Hasan  returned to Bengal for a second gubernatorial term  , his health had deteriorated and severe restrictions had been placed on his diet . Phulka , plain lentils,  some vegetables he was allowed , sometimes strictly rationed roasted cashew nuts which he liked so much that quite often  his inquisitive fingers, emissaries of unsatiated hunger, tried to fish out from a quarter plate emptied quite some time ago .

But the Docs had not placed restrictions on him to bring over  guests for meals . So he continued to invite people from among the usual Governor’s constituency made up of Vice Chancellors ( he being the Chancellor of all except Shantiniketan ) , the local chiefs of Victoria memorial, Indian museum and EZCC. As his  ADC, I also had to sit at the table and partake.

However, Jamil Mia  did not rustle up any great food. His study of human psychology was profound indeed. Smug with the knowledge that that Governor’s subordinates  would never fail to praise whatever food served at the Governor's table , he hardly put his soul into cooking. At times , it could be so unexciting that I would seek exemption after setting  up His Excellency at the table.

But the fellow knew it was different when the PM and the cabinet came over . They , quite a few of them on first name terms , many like the PM much older , had little reason to praise ordinary food. So the old Rampur bawaarchi gave his best to lay out a daawat fit for kings . One item - the Murgh Mussalam kebab- I can never forget . I even asked for a recipe, and later even inflicted the dish on my guests, making up for inadequacies with stories of Jamil Mian and the great dinner at 2, Circular Road.

The party at 2, Circular Road was coming up nicely when a mini storm broke out and it started to rain. The guests left hurriedly , not all having eaten . The governor also passed out - a syncope to which we were used to expect and equipped to handle .

Anil recalls  the subsequent days in GB Pant hospital where the Governor had been admitted . He remembers  that I had put him for extra duty during those days . I say he was the youngest driver then , so naturally.

The governor’s last trip  to Dilli was in a coffin I accompanied in an IAF Transport plane. The day we laid him to rest at Jamia , it rained cats and dogs . Anil was also in that convoy. Prof Hasan was a towering scholar of medieval Indian history, builder and architect of many iconic institutions like ICHR and ICSSR, had been our Ambassador to USSR , a connoisseur of music ,   a great human being. Kolkata paid him a poignant farewell as thousands had come to Raj Bhawan to offer respectful homage , and more had lined up the Park Street and VIP road through which the cortège passed . I was deeply saddened and quite affected by his death to renal failure at   Woodburn Ward in Kolkata Presidency General Hospital.

Anil talks  about how he had built a gym in Banga Bhavan ( maiN toh pehelwan hooN) and even a library ( help from Minister Subhash Chakraborty). Later on , his initiative and proximity to senior officers and ministers didn’t go down well.

“ Politics ho gaya mere saath”.

He  drops me at East Kidwai Nagar , and it strikes me that I have forgotten the file in the car . I try to call  him on my cell phone , but I cannot . Connectivity is extremely poor in these newly built towers. I usually find connectivity a big issue on my Kolkata Vodafone number  in Dilli. I can barely talk to my colleagues from Banga Bhavan rooms in Hailey Road where I had gone the following day for a pre- meeting meeting. Even as we sit , hunched in the lounge waiting for our turn after Andhra Pradesh , there is  no data connectivity and it is even difficult to talk .

The meeting in Vigyan Bhavan  is followed by lunch . Simple , frugal , bland - the opposite of opulence and affluence of Lutyens Dilli . Quite unsatiated, I try a chicken and egg roll at Nizam’s at T1 later in the day . It smells of some chemical, and I leave it after a few bites. What a shame , Dilli can otherwise offer such lovely food. Hardly a month ago, at my niece and nephew’s weddings, the food was superb.

En route Terminal 1 , I see  a huge stone monolith in a huge compound  . Anil informs that it is the Police Memorial . They had pulled down the earlier one .

“Rashtrapati ke Shaan ke khilaaf thha, ” Anil, the Mr. Know-all said.

Later I read that there were environmental issues .

The redoing cost the government Rs. 20 crores  Anil adds. I haven’t cross checked on that.

“Phew! 20 crores?“

“Yes , 20 crores .”

“ No one noticed when it was being made in the first place ?”

“ Arrey sir , sab ne gaur ( notice)  kiya . Tabhi toh isse gaurment kehte haiN !!”, and laughs  at the joke. I join him.

“Kulwant Singh used to say so , ” he added.

Thank you , Anil . You made up for  traffic , connectivity and food woes .