As the CM desired

Sukhdarshan Likhi

IT was early 1959. Cutting short my district training while being a fledgling in the police service, I was posted out from Ambala to Sangrur district. I soon got onto my new assignment in full steam. The then district SP, a competent officer who had served under tough British masters before the Independence, was not the type to be easily pleased. However, some favourable impression was created on his mind about my work and conduct. 

All this was suddenly unsettled with my transfer orders to another remote district of Punjab. This came as a shock to both me and my boss, who had a poor opinion about the incoming officer. As such, he was reluctant to relieve me. But he knew that the second seniormost IPS officer of the state had proposed this change. It was a conflict situation not easy to resolve. He also knew that the usual proper channel approach to have the transfer order stayed will not work in this case. He allowed me to try for the cancellation of the posting the way I thought best. 

One way was to go straight to Chief Minister Partap Singh Kairon. I secured a letter of recommendation from a known freedom fighter of my hometown, who was a contemporary of my late father in jail during the freedom movement. Armed with his missive, I reached the CM’s residence at Chandigarh late in the evening. He called me a little after 11 pm and asked me: “Manji kithey daahi hai?” (Where are you sleeping for the night?) I said I was staying with a friend. 

He said he would cancel the transfer,  but I may face trouble from my seniors in the department. “What will you do then?” he asked. “Sir, I will come to you again.” He smiled and asked me to see him in the civil secretariat at 7 am the following day. 

I was in the room of his deputy secretary when he called exactly at 7 am. I was ushered into the CM’s office. He asked his deputy secretary to inform the state IGP to see him immediately. In the meantime, I was told to wait outside. The IGP came and went after seeing the CM. Kairon called me immediately and said: “Kaka ji tabadala cancel kar dita hai, tussi wapas apney district jao.” (Son, the transfer orders have been cancelled. Go back to your district.) I came out beaming. I was congratulated by several officials for achieving something inconceivable at that level. I learnt later that perhaps for the first time, the cancellation order was prefaced with the words, “CM desired…”

I often recall those moments of meeting a phenomenal CM in the wake of a modest letter of introduction from a freedom fighter which he honoured ardently, and accommodating a beginner in service with civility and fairness.