Why I left the Indian Administrative Service?

The present rage on the OTT platform is the movie ‘12th Fail’ that documents the struggles of Manoj Kumar Sharma in becoming an IPS officer. Lives of everyone may not have been as dramatic as that of Manoj, but most of us who gave UPSC Civil service exams certainly lived some part. The lanes of Rajendra Nagar with its bookstalls and tea shops, or the small pigeon hole rooms in Mukherjee Nagar/Jiasarai are all too familiar to any aspirant. All of us also remember pile of books that filled entire room and neatly pasted information posters on the wall.

The gruelling exam cycle went on for more than a year starting from filling the prelims form, then giving long subjective Mains exam and finally the terror of the interview board. I still remember that eternal struggle to clock 12-14 hours of study time and looking at pictures of toppers who cleared the exam. Their folklores survived in those Delhi bylanes while they moved on to the LBSNAA Mussoorie. Any successful or unfortunately not so aspirant can talk about these struggles on and on.

I felt like destiny's child when I cleared the exam in my first attempt and entered the hallowed Indian Administrative Service (IAS). I wonder if anything else can match the sudden orbit shift in an ordinary student's life when you turn from an aspirant to a small time celeb and newspapers and aspirants cannot have enough of your wisdom words. It touches not only you but your entire clan. I remember distant relatives distributing sweets in their neighbourhoods when someone with whom they hardly ever spoke cleared this exam.

So how does one reconcile with leaving something that one struggled for so hard? After reliving a part of that struggle watching 12th fail with family, my son incredulously asks me, "Why did you leave the indian administrative service?”. It was difficult to explain to my toddler what IAS officers did and it is even more difficult to explain why I left.

I owe this answer to many who have been a part of my life. Whatever it is, it was certainly not an easy choice. After 16 years in service, it doesn't remain a service but becomes a way of life, a sort of alter ego or identity that one cannot even imagine to leave. Many still ask what did your parents say? How could your family let you do that?

I do not say that the service did not offer what I was looking for. The kind of diversity, respect and exposure that IAS provides can rarely be matched by anything else. And IAS officers also serve. The exam selects brilliant people and despite challenges in everyone’s professional life, they contribute in different manners. Yes there are aberrations amongst IAS officers, but they exist in all walks of life.

Having been there and done that, I can say for sure that it is easier to enter the service than to leave. While one is preparing, you just need to work hard and everything is black and white, you either get selected or you do not. The decision to leave is mired with ifs and buts and everything appears grey. There is the persistent thought of this being a one way street, with no chance of coming back to this comfort zone of respect and assured career path. I could live what the poet Kunwar Narayan meant in his poem ‘Antim Unchai’:

कितना स्पष्ट होता आगे बढ़ते जाने का मतलब

अगर दसों दिशाएँ हमारे सामने होतीं,

हमारे चारों ओर नहीं।

कितना आसान होता चलते चले जाना

यदि केवल हम चलते होते

बाक़ी सब रुका होता।

शुरू-शुरू में सब यही चाहते हैं

कि सब कुछ शुरू से शुरू हो,

लेकिन अंत तक पहुँचते-पहुँचते हिम्मत हार जाते हैं।

हमें कोई दिलचस्पी नहीं रहती

कि वह सब कैसे समाप्त होता है

जो इतनी धूमधाम से शुरू हुआ था

हमारे चाहने पर।

It was difficult but I could also hear a clear voice inside my heart that it was time to move on. There are no rights and wrongs in life, but what matters is if we can hear our inner voice. In the end everything remains a personal choice based on what one is seeking in life. All the reasons I have can be argued equally against, but I present them in all humility to my friends and well wishers, who have often tried to understand my thought process.

The first reason was that I felt too comfortable in life. It is difficult to express that, but seeing the next twenty years of my professional life was unnerving in a sense. I had seen a good part of what service had to offer, and the chances of getting surprised were getting narrowed down. A sign of youth is that one is full of possibilities in life. You can be an entrepreneur or you can travel and explore the world. You can also think of joining the elite IAS. There is a thrill in finding new challenges in life, and continuing here was sort of accepting old age, metaphorically at least.

The next  important reason was that I feel India is going to change in the coming decades. I remember how we waited for months to get a landline, and how the world changed with the advent of mobiles. Today's smartphone users cannot even imagine that time. I believe emerging changes would be far greater in the coming decades. I also believe that while the Government would continue to be a regulator and a facilitator, the private sector would be the real leader in this change. Indian per capita income has doubled in the last seven years, and we can only imagine how the next few decades are going to be like. While I had just begun to toy with this idea, I met a founder of a Unicorn. Realising that he could create a wealth of billions of dollars in such a short span of time was an attractive thought. The creativity, the pace and the horizon to achieve myriad things thrilled me beyond words.

Also, when we think of life in IAS, we often think about life in the field or in the districts. There one is closer to real India and creating an impact, however small, gives satisfaction. As one rises up the hierarchy, the canvas becomes large. It is difficult to conduct small experiments and see them succeed owing to the scale of impact. Working in the secretariat, be it in a department or any government corporation is somewhat closer to the work in the private sector.

A lingering thought also was that we have only one life. I had seen IAS for sixteen years and I felt excited with the idea of reinventing myself. Modern world is complex and people not only change jobs but their area of work.

I also felt that we called IAS to be the steel frame of the country but as democracy matures, real representatives of people i.e. elected politicians take charge. In today’s competitive electoral politics where the electorate are impatient for results, politicians love to work with a committed rather than a neutral bureaucracy. There can not be two power centres and thus there is nothing called ‘strong bureaucracy’ in modern times.

In most developed countries, bureaucrats are relegated to the background and civil services are rarely the first career choice. I believe in developing countries like ourselves where rule of law is still not perfect, being in the services makes certain basic services guaranteed. One is saved from unlawful harassment from the State or can be assured of finding a hospital bed in crisis times like Covid. As markets mature and a country progresses, these become less attractive. This may also be seen in career choices of children of serving bureaucrats, with very few opting for civil services.

It may also be said that a person needs to be self driven in services like IAS. Government jobs do not offer incentives to innovate and often officials fall in the mediocrity trap. The ecosystem makes it challenging to continuously upgrade oneself. There are other reasons like that of generating wealth and earning like my other IIT batchmates or having exposure of different kinds but I will not say they really mattered when I decided to move on.

It is not that I am not scared, I had more sleepless nights than I had while preparing for the UPSC exams. This was the most difficult decision of my life and I still get nightmares with thoughts like this isn't some आई मौज फ़क़ीर को, दिया झोपड़ा फूँक moment. May be this deserves a separate blog and one day I would pen that.

But I am happy and proud I could do this. It wasn't easy and it will not be easy but I am excited. Once again in my life I feel the sky's the limit and I again have a reason to dream. It has already been more than two months and everyday I have butterflies in my stomach. I asked GenAI to generate an image for me entering the unknown and it is the one you see at the top. Wish me luck on this ride!

जल गयी है शमा, आ गए हैं परवाने

आगाज़ तो अच्छा है, अंजाम ख़ुदा जाने

Ek Choti Si (Love?) Story

He wondered what happened when they went on a vacation. Was it just about the place, or did they behave differently from their formal daily selves?

They were in Darjeeling, and he had always been in love with this place. It was more about discovering the unknown; there were still new surprises about this place. He must admit though that he felt a pinch of pain when he visited the place. It had given him immense love once upon a time, and every time he was back, he doubted if it would still love him the same.

Having spent three days in the hustle and bustle of Darjeeling, they decided to go to Joey's pub. It was an eclectic place known for its selection of Beatles music and was a hit with foreign tourists. The place had changed from last time; it had more light, and in place of jazz and pop, there was a football match on. A group of male foreign tourists was rooting for their teams.

He tried to find the old Joey's pub in the newly renovated place, but his attention was captured by a beautiful girl who was now comfortably sitting opposite him at another table. She was a local and was accompanied by her male friend (boyfriend?). He couldn't help but notice her stylish sense, and his eyes got transfixed. She noticed him looking at her.

Now she was doing different things. She took off her jacket and was wearing a lacy top; there was also a tattoo beneath. She opened her hair and started playing with them gently, posing for pictures that her male friend clicked. Their eyes met many more times, and he was confident this was more than a coincidence.

He left his table and went to the smoking room (he was there with his group). Within minutes, the girl dragged her boyfriend to the smoking room (the manner in which she had control over him told him that he was not just a friend). She stood within a foot's distance and had an animated conversation with him. He was more confident now, and his gaze stayed on her for a longer time. He knew that she was well aware.

He lit another cigarette to buy more time; she did the same. It had now become a game, and no one else was aware. His friend joined the smoking room with his wife, and they reminded him that he was yet to finish his pint. The smoking room became crowded, and he came out; the girl did the same.

The bar closed at 10 pm, but he delayed finishing his beer. She also held on, and after a long wait when nothing happened, her boyfriend coaxed her to finish. His friends also wanted to leave as the barman was already turning off the lights.

They left together, and she was now walking in front of him. She held on tightly to her boyfriend, putting her head on his shoulders and drawing him close. He was sure she was fully aware that he could see everything. It was a message that he must be punished for not reaching out, and he accepted his destiny. They slowly parted ways; he wondered if there could have been a different ending. She came in his dream that night, and by the next day, she just remained a pleasant memory. Darjeeling had its strange ways of expressing its love for him.

The Bridge and the Train

    The train journey began at six in the morning and I had to rise early at four o'clock to make it on time. As I stepped outside, the chilly morning air greeted me and I regretted my decision to take the train. However, the traffic at the railway station was a close call, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I settled into my window seat and the train started moving. 

    The landscape changed rapidly, and soon the bustling city of Kolkata was behind us. The two iron tracks glided swiftly over the crushed stones, converging and diverging with speed and I marvelled at the smooth movement of the heavy train. The fog outside gave the world a mystical quality, and the gentle swaying of the train brought back fond memories. I felt a strong sense of nostalgia as if I had seen it all before. I had seen these vehicles waiting patiently at the railway crossings and children outside waving goodbye. I had also seen these large tracts of fields with lush green harvests and white lilies blooming in water bodies. 

    My father’s job brought him from his mofussil town to a far-off township. This place had neatly constructed quarters with playgrounds in between and large chimneys of the thermal power plant that could be seen from all around. Our family moved miles but we kept on going back and train journeys helped us maintain that link. For nine months we lived in the cosmopolitan township where people had gathered from different regions. Most of them had roots in places like ourselves and they talked about villages and farms that sounded like the place where my grandparents lived. We spent three months of summer holidays with them and undertook two long train journeys for it. 

    I remember waiting at the platform for hours with the sounds of coolies and trains passing by. When it became cold I comfortably lazed in my mother’s lap. If it was my lucky day, I also bought a toy along with some magazines that were always allowed. I never liked sharing things and fought with my sister who will get the window seat. You always wanted the view of the direction in which the train moved and those who got the window of the opposite side were doomed for the entire journey. Today train journeys are few and I cannot fight with my toddler sons to take the window seat; I felt relieved they were not there today with me.  

    As the train crossed a bridge, I hummed the lines by Dushyant Kumar: 

    Tu kisi rail si guzarti hai, 

    Main kisi pul sa thartharata hoon 

    Can the feeling of love when everything looks beautiful and butterflies flutter in the stomach ever be expressed more beautifully?  

    We crossed the Son River on our journeys, and the sight of the vast and beautiful yet menacing riverbed has stayed with me. The sound of the train on the bridge still evokes feelings of awe, fear, and excitement. There is no experience quite like a train crossing a bridge, just as there is no romance quite like life itself. 

    The pace of the train journeys was peaceful, just like the pace of life at that time. We exchanged magazines with fellow travellers, learned about their lives, and made friends. We always brought food for the journey and often shared it with these new-found strangers turned friends. I waited for railway stations when ice cream vendors came and we relished in the small pleasures of life. My father used to get off the train to fill up the water bottle, causing us all to worry about the train starting before he returned.  

    At times, the train would halt in desolate areas for hours, and we would simply look outside. At other times, when another train crossed from the opposite direction, we relished in the thrill of speed. 

    
    Back then, train journeys were a regular occurrence in our lives, but as I grew older and moved away, air travel took the place of these soothing journeys. Today, I was grateful to have taken the train. It felt like someone reminded me from a time that passed by that life is beautiful in so many ways.  We just need to keep our eyes open to look for beauty. 

Let’s Give Back to Society!

People say nothing gives more joy in life than giving back to society. You decide to serve humanity and start zeroing in on what you will give back to society.

You believe that children are the future of society, and you start teaching. You play with the kids to build a bond with them, but soon you realize that the games they play are boring, and neither the kids nor their parents are happy. The kids think you're bad at games, and their parents are not sure if you're a good influence. You decide to teach, but the children's books have information that is hard to explain. One plus one has been two since the beginning, and you become agitated when the kids question it. They say that not only are you bad at games, but you don't know mathematics. Even your own children opt out of your voluntary contribution to society.

You then decide to bring poetry to people, believing that it will redeem a society that has lost touch with love and beauty. You invite guests to a party, and once they become spirited, you start reciting poetry from Ghalib and Makhdoom Mohiuddin. You explain to them about love, separation, and unrequited love, but they're not prepared to take it in. They're either flabbergasted or start laughing. No one is in the middle ground, and you sense imminent furore with people breaking out in angry singing. Poetry has become a chore, and you are tolerating them more than they're tolerating you.

You then decide to motivate people, and an NGO for the homeless agrees to let you give lectures to the inmates. They ask you what they should do with their lives, and you reply, "whatever you like." They remind you that they've already been doing whatever they liked and it landed them in this home listening to your lectures, which is not exactly their idea of success in life. Some depressed people ask you what the point of this life is, and you get into deep thinking. This NGO isn't now so sure that you're the kind of motivation they want to instil in these people.

You feel society is not accepting what you offer because you need to teach them something that you are best at and no one else can beat you. You realise that would be wasting time and not many may waste time to learn about it.

It's difficult to find something that society is willing to accept from you. You make YouTube videos about your mundane life, but everyone is bored with their lives and refuses to waste more time in their life. You try to write stories, but you end up spending time in your own company. Only your wife has read your work, and now often asks you to give back those minutes of her life that she spent reading. She also tells you that by sparing the world the pleasure of your company, you are giving it back to society. You know she's joking, but you keep doubting.

This ping-pong continues for some days, but then you decide it's a loss to society. You then try to give back humour to society; you're still not sure if they will accept it!

On Aphorisms and Youth!

I love aphorisms. They are the best examples of the use of language and make you realize deep truths; they also establish your reputation in wisecracks. The same goes with Urdu Shayari; one can impress many by reciting a relevant (or maybe not) couplet. 

One couplet of Jaun Eliya has stayed with me:

ज़िंदगी एक फ़न है लम्हों को 

अपने अंदाज़ से गँवाने का

It may mean that the art of life is only in doing things you like. One should never live anyone else’s life; many will feel inspired by this in following their passion. Beauty is one can derive the meaning that one wants. If it doesn’t inspire you, the couplet can mean it is okay to waste time but have your way to do it. If you prefer this meaning, you would also love another aphorism: ‘time enjoyed wasting is not wasted time. 

If you insist on my take on this couplet, I bring another aphorism to my rescue. Oscar Wilde said all art is quite useless and this was a sort of revolution at that time. It means the objective of art (and aphorisms/couplets) is just an expression of a beautiful art form. Some things are just for enjoyment, one should avoid finding usefulness in everything. 

A quote often attributed to George Bernard Shaw has got me thinking: ‘Youth is wasted on the Young.’ This gave rise to many questions; is this true, am I young and did I also get caught up in this?

A memory that I often repent of flashed up immediately. There was a beautiful day in Paris and I was there for a couple of days in my early twenties. I felt extremely tired and the choice was to go out to explore or crash out on the couch. The choice was easy for me and I spent the day sleeping. My younger self never even felt that I might not be there again soon. It has been more than twenty years and I am still to visit the city again. As and when there is a time machine delivering messages, I would tell my younger self to prefer exploring Paris over snoring. 

Before the scenario looks gloomy, my optimistic self assures me that I did crack two of the toughest exams (IIT and IAS) in my youth so I probably did not completely waste it. Leaving the humour aside, we often miss giving importance to things when time is on our side. Young are confident that life is only a one-way uphill drive and you can catch up with whatever you leave behind. 

Does the question also remain what is youth? Is it the age when your hair is not grey, your waistline has not yet started bulging and you are in your teens or twenties? Is youth having immense physical energy and unbounded dreams? Is youth falling in love, picking up new hobbies or not being afraid to take risks? Or maybe youth is an insatiably desire to explore whatever is on offer in this life? 

It is said, When our memories outweigh our dreams, it is then that we become old.' I carry my share of good-bad memories but they still in no way outweigh my dreams. So, I have my answer now. 

When I am in doubt, I read these lines by Javed Akhtar:

दिलों में तुम अपनी बेताबियाँ लेके चल रहे हो, तो ज़िंदा हो तुम

नज़र में ख्वाबों की बिजलियाँ लेके चल रहे हो, तो ज़िंदा हो तुम

हवा के झोकों के जैसे आज़ाद रहना सीखो

तुम एक दरियाँ के जैसे लहरों में बहना सीखो

हर एक लम्हें से तुम मिलो खोले अपनी बाहें

हर एक पल एक नया समा देखे यह निगाहें

जो अपनी आँखों में हैरानियाँ लेके चल रहे हो, तो ज़िंदा हो तुम

दिलों में तुम अपनी बेताबियाँ लेके चल रहे हो, तो ज़िंदा हो तुम

What is your definition of youth?

To Covid, With Love!

 Dear Covid,

 I cannot even believe that it is going to be our second anniversary; the entire credit goes to your mutant agility. I would be economical with the truth if I don’t concede that we tried our best to shut you out but like a real dogged lover, you were determined to be with humanity. I realize we are destined to be together for a lifetime so let me open my heart, my dearest Covid.

        We imposed lockdowns, created hurdles of geographical boundaries to not let you in but you never left our pursuit. We often banged utensils and shouted ‘Go Corona Go’ on the streets, we made people bathe in sanitizing tunnels and sprayed gallons of toxic chemicals all around but there you were, just amused at the infallibility of human stupidity.

        I was scared of you in the beginning. Yes, I do prefer seas to the mountains but that did not mean you would always come in waves. There were Delta and Omicron and it was no fun surfing these.

        Of course, there were good parts of our relationship. You have put my mind at ease as earlier there used to be hundreds of unknown diseases to be dealt with. A fever could have meant dengue or a bacterial infection and a bout of loose motions or body ache matched myriads of fancy ailments on the internet but now all discomforts lead to Covid. Often when I do not feel anything, it might be the asymptomatic you. People think about you more than they think of their spouses.

        Yes, I do not like going to the market with my wife but that did not mean you had to keep everyone indoors for such a long time. Do not openly display your favoritism for the asocial people!

        All of us had become selfish and mean and often forgot to acknowledge the almighty. You reminded us of our frailty and brought us closer to God. You also reminded us how closely we are all connected. A sample of our species hanky pankied with a bat in China and there you were, knocking off humans and embracing all countries.

        You gave us a new language to communicate. Our youth was getting lost in social media memes and the elders were busy exchanging treasures of WhatsApp knowledge but you taught us a common vocabulary. Everybody had her own cure for Covid and now grand aunts and toddlers discuss zillion ways to treat Covid. Let me tell you the title of my next book is ‘One Thousand one ways of treating Covid’. Please stop smiling.

        Because of you, I now do not have any vitamin deficiencies. I have improved upon my immunity through Allopathic, potions of homeopathic and bitter seeds of ayurvedic medicines. My liver and kidney cry more than they do filtering spirits but I am sure my body now has minerals that may not even exist.

        I am also impressed by the immense respect you garnered in such a short time. Diseases that have been with humanity for hundreds of years shudder seeing you and worry that any spray of sanitizers may kill them when people are just acknowledging Covid.

        And after two years of our relationship, stop being a jealous lover who cannot get enough of humanity. People thought you would come once or twice but you never get bored of our bodies. Even vaccines are unable to keep you at bay.

        Love is good but do not overdo it. Be mild and live like an occasional epidemic, not a pandemic. Live and let live!

        Sick of you,

         Humanity