The month of May 1994 brought a new development and rather a bold one. To date, I don’t quite know what prompted Mulayam Singh Yadav to take the decision of posting me as SSP Lucknow. Yes, Lucknow.
One day in May 1994, I got a call from the DGP headquarters to present myself for an audience with the CM the following day. Unknown to me, two more calls were also made. The first was to another IPS officer Jagmohan Yadav, my batchmate who was posted as SSP in another district, and the second to Satish Chandra Yadav, a state police officer promoted to IPS. Both the officers were given identical messages: “Present yourself for an audience with the CM in Lucknow the following day.” The irony of the situation was that all three of us checked in at the same Police Officer’s Mess in Lucknow and had separate meetings with the CM on the same day, oblivious to the fact that the meetings were interviews of sorts to pick an officer for the coveted post of Lucknow SSP. Chandra walked out of the meeting as SSP Prayagraj, Yadav as SSP Kanpur and I was asked to join as SSP Lucknow. Personally, it was an assurance that good work always gets recognition. On the political front, Mulayam Singh’s move caused a storm. Considering the political dynamics and expediency, it made no sense. The consequence? This move further incensed the coalition partner, the BSP.
To add to it, four Dalits with criminal antecedents were lynched in a Thakur-dominated village of Bulandshahr. It was an unfortunate incident where mob fury took precedence over sanity. The victims had gone to the village with the intention of committing a crime but had been caught by the villagers. The tragedy had happened in the thrashing that ensued. The police had nothing to do with the incident, but the incident was used to clobber me.
The BSP had already lost the Hastinapur by-poll and the defeat was being attributed to the Gujjars deserting the party, angered by the encounter of Fauji. The BSP was completely rattled. Instead of the CM suspending me under pressure, I was given an important posting.
One thing led to the other, and in a web of developments, a high-octane press conference was held by Kanshi Ram and Mayawati in Lucknow on June 10, 1994. In the press conference, Kanshi Ram and Mayawati demanded not only my transfer but also my suspension by the government. A flawless career of a civil servant was blemished for no fault of his. It was an uncalled for, below-the-belt attack. I had never even met Kanshi Ram and Mayawati, yet I was dragged into the political tussle between the two parties. I had not built my professional edifice on the basis of caste configurations. A civil servant has his limitations, and I lamented that fact. Like numerous other things, I swallowed my pride, tucked things in the corner of my heart and moved on.
The CM, who had till the moment withstood all the pressure against me, was shaken. Barely two weeks later, and on the thirty-seventh day since my taking over as SSP Lucknow, I was called by the CM at his residence. It was past 11 pm and I was at my desk completing my paperwork. By the time I was ushered into the living area at the CM residence, it was almost midnight. Mulayam Singh Yadav often met visitors in the plush drawing room of his Vikramaditya Marg residence. The room had a massive window overlooking lush lawns with seasonal blooms and trees. On the walls were framed portraits of socialist leaders: Ram Manohar Lohia, Madhu Limaye, Jayaprakash Narayan and Chandra Shekhar. Seated near the CM was a journalist of a Hindi daily, whom I did not recognise. Greeting the CM, I too took a seat. Mulayam Singh Yadav asked the journalist to leave the two of us alone. The grim expression of the CM, after the journalist left, did not enthuse me, but what happened next completely bamboozled me.
“Aapko suspend nahee kar rahe, transfer kar rahe hain [You’re not being suspended but being transferred],” the CM said.
“Sir, I feel things are fairly in check here in Lucknow, but if the government wants me to go somewhere else, I will.” I answered with a straight face.
“SSP saheb, if I don’t transfer you, the BSP will withdraw support and my government will fall. We have to undergo this drill,” the CM said with his eyes no longer meeting mine, I continued to sit there, near numb. I had never seen a powerful leader in such a helpless state. In his second term as CM, Mulayam Singh Yadav, the undisputed leader of the SP, was one of the tallest socialist stalwarts from the heartland. As an officer, I was a witness to the strange dynamics of politics. Dynamics in which I was being tossed around like a hapless chicken. I felt flattered and bemused at the same time to become a reason for the fall of a government. It was complete absurdity the idea that a small spoke had the power to stop the giant wheel of the system
“Where would you like to go?” The CM’s question surprised me. I thought he would be ruthless. Instead, he wanted me to make a choice. I liked that in my heart. The man had stood by me till that day and was himself disappointed at his own helplessness. He was seeking to make amends. I tread carefully.
“Sir, I’ll go wherever you direct me to go. I have always wanted to serve the Kumbh Mela. It’s my lifetime dream, Sir.”
Mulayam Singh Yadav looked up at me and, without saying anything, reached for the bell. Minutes later, an attendant handed him the receiver of the landline phone. The DGP was on the other side.
“DGP saab, sarkar ne faisla liya hai SSP OP Singh ko Kumbh Mela ka SSP niyukt kiya jaye. Aap uska notification jaari kar deejiye. [The government has decided to post SSP OP Singh to the Kumbh Mela. Kindly issue a notification to that effect].”
Under normal circumstances, the conversation should have ended with an affirmation and greetings, but that did not happen. The DGP was saying something. Obviously, I couldn’t make out what, but the CM’s reply let the cat out of the bag.
“Nahee! Aap unhe mana kar deejiye. OP Singh ko Kumbh Mela bhejne ka notification jaree keejiye [No! You answer him in the negative and issue a notification for OP Singh’s posting as SSP Kumbh Mela].”
That was that. I rose from my position, saluted the CM and walked out of the premises, fully aware that I was no longer the SSP of the state capital.
The morning brought with it amusement galore.
The DGP spoke to me, and he waxed eloquent on how he had convinced the CM that I would be an ideal officer for the post of SSP Kumbh Mela at Prayagraj and not any other insignificant posting. For the second time in the last twenty-four hours, I aced the art of keeping a straight face. Obviously, the guy had no idea that the “officer” himself was with the CM when his “objection” came and not any “imagined help”. I kept mum. I was maturing as a civil servant.
Excerpted with permission from Crime, Grime and Gumption: Case Files of an IPS Officer, OP Singh, Penguin India.