ROOTS - 2

He was a modest man. His own daughter did not know of all the things he did or endured until long after his death.

Some things she understood from stray letters preserved, thinking with sadness of what he must have suffered in silence, as she matched them to her own memories of what she remembered hearing and seeing.

Other things she read written by him in a series of anecdotes which he ascribed to an unnamed IAS officer, never indicating that the officer was himself. One story was clinching evidence. She had heard it from a very old friend of the family, a young clerk who had caught the eye of the Collector of Kaira, and was sent for by him, with the pulling of many strings, to work as his Personal Assistant in Ahmedabad during the terrible months of the Mahagujarat agitation and after, because he was as secret as the grave, and was to be entrusted with most grave secrets. The old friend reported a story which for him summarised his idolised boss.

Here it is, in her father’s own words.

“One evening, the Collector, having risen from his desk to quit office for home, saw that there was a villager at the door, pleading with his Personal Assistant for an interview with the Collector. Intrigued by the man’s earnestness, the Collector asked him what he wanted. It transpired that he was a petty shopkeeper who had offered the highest bid at an auction of tax defaulter’s property, held by the Mamlatdar, whose Deputy Collector had, for some reason, withheld approval of the sale of those goods. This had happened several years earlier, since when the unsuccessful bidder had made repeated trips to the taluka office in order to obtain refund of the earnest money (some three hundred rupees) that he had paid into the taluka treasury on his bid being declared the highest. Returning from another fruitless attempt, he had visited the Collectorate on the chance of seeking the Collector’s intervention.

His manner was desperate, and his tale rang true. The Collector felt that immediate action alone would satisfy him.

He bundled the petitioner and his Personal Assistant into his jeep, and drove to the taluka kutchery – fortunately only a few kilometres away. Reaching after sunset, he sent his Personal Assistant to fetch the Mamlatdar and the Treasury Head Clerk from their homes. On their arrival, he had the Kutchery opened and the relevant records produced for examination.

He found that the petitioner’s tale was borne out by the records, and that the taluka officials could show no reason for withholding refund of the earnest money. On the spot, the Collector wrote out a “speaking” order, directing the Mamlatdar to refund the amount to the petitioner, got the Mamlatdar to acknowledge and carry out the order, and dropped the bemused petitioner at the chowk [market square] where he could catch a bus to return to his village.

This incident got to be talked about, even in official circles, where it taught the lesson that lack of precedent need not prevent an official from disregarding regular procedure, where redressal of an honest citizen’s grievance is the consideration.”

Thus the anonymous Collector’s tale. What the Personal Assistant told her is that the Collector gave him some money to have tea with the petitioner, whose vision was so blurred with tears he hardly knew what he was doing, and to return to Kaira by bus after seeing the poor man on his way home.

This is what made the Collector beloved of his people.