Well-advised in ‘city of advisers’

Manoj Parida

I was part amused and part surprised on reading my posting order as Adviser, UT. Surprised, because in the civil service, you grab the job of ‘Adviser’only after retirement and amused since I wondered as to who listens to advice these days, not even our own kids.

Dutifully, I joined the new assignment and soon discovered that the job in Chandigarh was different. It was not as soporific as it sounded.

Being a fitness freak, I started my evening walk at Sukhna Lake and enjoyed my activity in anonymity. But alas, my fun did not last long. A lady confronted me head-on and shouted, “Are you not the new Adviser?” I timidly nodded. “Then why don’t you do something about these dangerous, ferocious, rabid dogs on this walk path? They scare the kids, the women, the joggers, morning walkers. Remove them,” she commanded. I gave an unsure nod and escaped further ‘advice’.

A few days later, I ran into another lady on the same walking track. “You must be the new Adviser. I saw your photo in the newspaper and instantly knew that you must be a kind-hearted man.” I felt elated and manufactured a smile. “But Mr Adviser, don’t you see how these people treat these poor, helpless, abandoned dogs? Some kick them, some assault them and some even try to poison them. Please do something, put some policemen to protect them and the municipality to feed them and the vets to care for them. I feel so good in their company when I come here. They are my family, you see.” From a smile, I had a serious look on my face.

The eternal flow of advice was not confined to the cooling ambience of Sukhna. Back in office, I met hordes of associations, retired bureaucrats, Army men, academics, business barons, NGOs, trade unions, journalists, all with a heavy burden of ‘advice’ troubling their public-spirited conscience. I heard all patiently and innocently like a new disciple in an ashram. Some even insisted on getting photographed while handing over written advice, so that documentary evidence of the advice tendered remained till eternity.

Having spent a few months in City Beautiful, I realised that it is a ‘city of advisers’. Part of my salary is reserved for listening to wonderful ideas, wandering towards me from all corners. I remembered my Sanskrit teacher’s advice: “Yuktiyukta bachho grahyam bala dapi, sukadapi” (reasonable words coming from even a kid or a parrot must be accepted). 

I have applied to the Government of India to change my designation from ‘The Adviser’ to ‘The Advised’.