The Officer and the Mace

In 2009, I joined as a Sub-divisional Officer in the Alipurduar subdivision of Jalpaiguri district. Compared to other parts of India, this was one of the largest subdivisions having one MP and six MLAs. It was also a remote subdivision bordering Bhutan and Nepal, and the district headquarters was almost four hours away; the word of the SDO often became the last word in the subdivision.

After two years of training in the LBSNAA academy as an IAS probationer, I could finally make a real impact and create the difference that we, as probationers, wanted to make. Within a week of my joining, representatives of a prominent NGO came to invite me to an inauguration. I learned that they had done some great work in the subdivision and its members were part of a wealthy mercantile community. I heartily accepted the invitation.

When I went there on the designated day, I realized they also had a small religious ceremony followed by a procession of more than a kilometer on a busy road. They had people carrying drums and cymbals, women with conch shells and men carrying symbolic flags. I guess the idea was to make the town aware about the newly constructed building. In India, religion and society intermingle and I had no hesitation when they requested me to lead the procession.

They put a tilak on my forehead, the ladies in the back started singing bhajans, and as the procession began, they handed me their auspicious mace. It was large and heavy and I hesitated for a moment but then took it. The procession started with me leading the procession, holding a mace and having a tilak on my forehead, and a crowd of hundreds walking on a busy road. I wanted this to end fast and tried to walk swiftly to cover the distance quickly. Soon I realized I had left the procession  somewhat behind.

Here I was in an unknown town, a young man in his twenties, formally dressed and walking with a mace on a busy road; passersby looked at me with surprise and a few children giggled and started following. I felt embarrassed and wished the ground would open up and swallow me. Soon the organizers who got engrossed in their drum beating and bhajans came running and helped me rejoin the procession. I was flustered but inaugurated the building and these organizers remained my friends for the rest of my tenure.

I had a choice as a young man to avoid that embarrassment and be cautious in venturing out. But if I had done that, I would not have found some great friends and philanthropists who felt I was a part of their community and extended help in other areas I requested them to. I would also not be writing this article and smiling, thinking about it.

Though a bit more experienced as I aged, I followed the philosophy of venturing out for more adventures than thinking how it would turn out. Most of these experiences turned out to be great, some of them did not turn out as I had expected and left me embarrassed.

Life is what we absorb from this world through our five senses. Our age may not be our circles around the sun but times a person felt happy or sad, won or lost, and how many people we could call our friends.

When we are young and naive, all of us make these choices in life. The path is uncertain and full of ambiguity. Our parents and well-wishers want us to be safe. There is a feeling of having butterflies in our stomach and we can call it youth, or romance, or give it any other name.

Next time you get an opportunity to hold a mace, embrace it!

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