Memoirs of a Lost World- 2

A day in LBSNAA

The old wooden office blocks of LBSNAA were burnt in fire long before we reached there. After that the new administrative building, mess, hostels, badminton courts had been built over the years. Yet LBSNAA seemed to had retained its style of teaching over the years with suitable adaptations as and when required.

There was not much stress on going through the massive volumes of text books. Law was the exception and we all agreed that law was one of the most important things for our careers. Most of the classes were taken by our Deputy Directors (DD) who were senior Officers from various services, mostly IAS. The other major portion of the classes were taken by ‘guest speakers’. We had people talking about ‘organizing events’ and like what? Like the ‘Kumbh Fair’ with over a 10 million people attending the event. May be such experiences were the forerunner of what I was supposed to do in future, mobilizing 500 thousand polling and counting personnel as the Joint Chief Electoral Officer of a state and yes, finding that a ‘cakewalk’.

And this is what LBSNAA was preparing us for. I can not help comparing other places with LBSNAA when I see brightest of the students not able to lead even small teams of 70-75 people. In LBSNAA, the figures were in 100 thousands. We were taught to think and act big. I remember the advertisement of one of the premier Tutorials for IAS, MBA and IIT entrance examinations. It blatantly used to state that the best management institute in India is not in ******* but in Mussourie, where you are taught to handle the management of a country (and not a company). And sure the advertisement was right.

There were experts who had converted dry lands into forests, revolutionized the District hospitals and health services, experts from education, cooperative movement and in micro credit and local self Government. The members of our batch of Officer Trainees (OTs) in LBSNAA were from diverse background, coming from Government school with fees of Rupees 2 per month to those taught in the Doon school. And all of them had to be brought to the same platform where they could identify, understand and resolve the problems of over 100 crore Indians.

And for this our day began at about quarter to 5 in morning during the three chilled winter months of Oct, Nov and Dec, in near 4-5 degree temperatures of Mussourie with the first whistle of Rana ji, our physical trainer. And not being to the ground on time meant a punishment of 10 to 30 push ups (Gender bias). And to be on time many of us slept in our track suits with our shoes on. And why not, those tension free cold nights of Mussourie and our warm and cozy beautiful rooms were such a perfect mix for a perfect sleep.

Rana and Prithi Singh (our other trainer) would take us in two groups for a jogging session of 4-5 km in the Mussourie hills. One of our DD would accompany one of the groups. And as the huge group used to run on the road, young and old, those beautiful people would come to a halt and smile at us. However, I was soon to leave the morning joggers group to lead the horse riding team. But till then this was fun and so was it for most of those, fat or thin, who would run or roll on those cool mornings with red noses. And to add this was the beginning of a rivalry between I and Rana ji for I loved breaching his instructions. And when he would goad me to run fast, I would slow down and when he would curse me that nothing could be done to me, I would sprint while others would jog.

I think that the systems should appreciate the differences in the individuals and the spirit of defying the orders one is not genuinely convinced with. For me, every thing that Rana ji did was wrong. And when he would make us do the monkey jumps on non jogging day, after the PT I would start my energization exercises of the Paramhansa Yogananda’s Yogada society.

Invariably I would tell our Joint Director in the Gym that Rana ji’s exercises were against the basic rules of exercise and Rana ji, then sweating, would continue shouting at me. Those last days of immaturity were soon to be lost in the job that would be so demanding in the years to come but those Mussourie mornings and their nostalgia will forever be fresh with us. And to all those who failed to follow so far, those were our lessons in discipline which were taught with a lot of fun, for who would like to leave bed and jog 5 kms in those temperatures.

Back from jogging, there could be only one place to break the meet, ‘The Ganga Dhaba’. People would have the ‘Elaichi Chai’ or a glass of juice and curse Rana ji and Prithi Singh or may be make phone call to their home (mobiles were still not that prominent). And while many would return to their rooms, there would be a few continuing the exercise session to the badminton court, TT tables or the Gymnasium which was world class and the best I have come across, including those in some five star hotels.

Back to our rooms we had about an hour to take a warm water bath in our attached bathrooms (even those appear a luxury today) with soft music playing on the player. And then our hurried run on the steepest slope in Mussourie would start as we rushed to out mess. Our wonderfully designed mess with world class furniture and huge glass windows meant that the break fast would either be amongst the clouds or we could see the snow which was, may be, hundreds of km away but looked at a stone’s throw. I believe that the location of the Academy and the mess in particular is one of the best in the entire Mussourie town for seeing the snow. And there we would have our breakfast as ‘suited-booted laat sahabs’ while the ladies would try a new Saree each day.

Then we had two classes in the morning and afternoon session each split by a sumptuous lunch (About the Law classes with Dada Banerjee, where the content would be real tough, some other day). Then after the classes there were the hobbies session where people learnt Guitar, Synthesizer, DTP, Photography or Videography and so on as per their choice. And are not your hobbies your best friends in life and why not make one if you don’t have one. Those were the days of trying to make the personality as perfect as we could make it, in the LBSNAA.

And after the classes we were served tea and biscuits in our hostel rooms. And people would be hurriedly getting ready to go to the Gym, indoor wooden badminton courts or the squash courts, to the horse riding ground, for trekking in the hills or to ‘the Mall’.

The Mall undoubtedly drew the most of us. We would hire an auto for Rs 15/- from the LBSNAA gate or take an evening stroll. The coffee shops, the momo shops, the Cassette shops and the Konica studio, where we would dump so many reels to be washed every day, were the biggest attractions. Some of us would buy books or a pair of scissors or a cap from the Bhutia market. We would wait for the dinner time to approach and then the group would enter one of those restaurants and the jokes, dinner and fun would continue.

And with the night getting colder the hood of out jackets would cover our heads as we would drag ourselves on the Mall; stopping on the shops now and then, watching the beautiful lights and the decorations. Some times we would get lost in the clouds, following the other friends as we continued to talk to give directions. Then a short break of 10 minutes was a must as we would stop by the railing, almost hanging on it as we watched the lights of the city of Dehradun below.

Those lights are sad someone would say. No they are joy other would reply. Each of those light shows a house or a shop. Think of the families living there. Kids being asked to go to sleep. The ladies in their evening ‘shringaar. May be they also play ghazals in their houses in the evening and the head of the family is sipping coffee after the dinner. Not every one will have such strange preferences, some one else would argue. Think of all the places we would be posted as the SDO and the DMs, people will come to us to solve their problems.

‘Problem! Have you written the order on Section 107?’ ‘No’ would be the reply and we would rush back to out hostel. Assignments would take another half an hour or so with the soft night ragas on. We would check out mail accounts. The silly box on our table wouldn’t take more than 10-15 minutes in a day, unless there was some assignment on the word or excel or someone brought a movie from the library. Too much affinity to the computer was considered unhealthy (sick). We would see our own photo albums or those developed by the neighbours. Some used to write dairies religiously or write a poem or random thoughts.

This was to continue for the first few weeks only because after that with every passing day we would hear the news of engagement of someone. And then they would reserve their evenings for long phone calls from a newly found friend.