December 13 2021 And this is the short talk I gave about my father.
I would love to hear any thoughts/comments/reactions/whatever. cheers, dilip --- For Bain's centenary memorial, Dec 12 2021 I think my father would have been taken aback to see all of you here! He liked to pretend he had few friends, and yet here you all are. My father - Bain to all - spent a while in the Navy just before Independence, and I think that experience explains his fondness for the Gilbert and Sullivan opera "HMS Pinafore"; in particular, for these lines: "*Stay close to your desks/And never go to sea/And soon you'll be the ruler of the Queen's Navy.*" He never went to sea, my father. But then he joined the Indian Administrative Service (IAS). And imagine with me a scene from Punjab, during Partition. A convoy of refugees meanders along a road. It is escorted by a few constables and a 26-year-old IAS man. At one point, he crosses alone through the convoy to see what's happening on the other side -- and what's happening on the other side is a band of screaming men with swords, running towards the refugees, thirsty for blood. Without a thought, in a manner he would forever describe as "foolhardy", the young man runs towards them, waving his stick and shouting as if leading a force. Which he wasn't, because the police were on the other side of the convoy, oblivious. The blood-seekers, they turn and run. That young man was my father. If that was his introduction to the IAS and public service, the years that followed were perhaps less dramatic, but no less fulfilling. There was the time that, as General Manager of BEST (the Bombay Electric Supply and Transport Undertaking), he confronted a fiery, eloquent union leader named George Fernandes, who called a strike. What made it difficult was that Fernandes thought nothing of turning his back on commitments made, and was skilled at rousing BEST staff to a fever pitch of anger against the management, in particular the GM. But Bain chose to speak to a wider audience. He placed ads in the newspapers, and I'd like to read one of them to you --- IF YOU ORDINARILY TRAVEL BY BUS – The Undertaking regrets the hardship its striking workers have imposed on you. We would like to bring this strike to an end as soon as possible. BUT - Further concessions to BEST strikers will cost you at least another 10 paise daily. [Remember: this is 1967, when 10 paise mattered.] SHOULD YOU PAY MORE TO RAISE THE WAGES OF BEST WORKERS? An average municipal employee gets Rs. 180 monthly. He enjoys 50 days’ leave in a year. An average BEST worker gets Rs.300 monthly. He may also earn an incentive bonus of Rs. 50 to 60. Most BEST workers enjoy 47 days’ leave each year. An IAS officer starts his career earning Rs.520 monthly. Throughout his career he gets no more than 45 days’ leave a year. We are not averse to paying our workers even better, but this burden must not fall on you. It need not; we can pay better if our costs are reduced by economies. Such economies were proposed to the Workers’ Union, to offset the costs of the concessions it wanted. They were being discussed. But quite suddenly Mr. Fernandes decided to take the workers out on strike. So the strike continues, and you have to walk to work. For this, though we are not responsible, we are extremely sorry. --- The ads made Fernandes uneasy, because they would erode public sympathy for the strikers. Sure enough, there was a large public gathering that harshly criticised the strike, clear public displeasure of a kind Fernandes had never faced. Days later, he called off the strike. Soon after, he shifted his political base to Bihar. In his memoir, Bain commented: "He must have had strong reasons for doing so, and I cannot believe that our little squabble in the BEST had anything to do with it." Tongue firmly in cheek, I suspect. Then there were the eccentric letters people wrote to him all through his career, which he put in a file he labeled "Howlers". In one, a man wrote from Sleater Road: "I had the misfortune to travel by bus No.375 on route No.130 this day. When I got myself seated on the left hand last but one seat on the right flank of the upper deck, I had to immediately get up with immense pain because a pointed nail was functioning like a dagger. The dagger of your BEST Undertaking has caused inroads in the back of the pant which makes it useless for decent wearing purposes." I always thought it said something about Bain that he saved letters like these. In the family, we think he viewed them as one of the small perks of his job. In any case, there are plenty of other stories I could tell. For I truly remember my father as a man of stories. "This above all", he would quote from "Hamlet", "to thine own self be true; And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not be false to any man." That day in Punjab, and throughout his life, this man was true to himself. And I think maybe it is because he was true that you are all here today. And so - for my staunch siblings Ravi and Meena, for my constant and courageous mother Neela, for our spouses and children, and for Bain, for JBD -- I'd like to say, thank you for being here. -- My book with Joy Ma: "The Deoliwallahs" Twitter: @DeathEndsFun Death Ends Fun: http://dcubed.blogspot.com -- You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "Dilip's essays" group. To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email to [email protected]. 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