A life lesson in mentorship

THE year was 1972, and I was sulking. Badly. As an Assistant Commissioner (under training) in Karnal district, I had just learned about my assignment for the Haryana elections. While my three fellow IAS trainees got supervisory roles overseeing multiple polling stations, I was posted as the presiding officer of a single booth — a job typically reserved for schoolteachers and junior officials.

My well-meaning colleagues decided to ‘comfort’ me by narrating a tale about a presiding officer who had forgotten his official stamp at the booth. Terrified of disciplinary action, the poor man had literally run 12 km to retrieve it!

My trainer, Deputy Commissioner HV Goswami, noticed my barely concealed disappointment. But before I could speak, he sat me down. “This is an experience you will remember for a very long time,” he said. He explained that an IAS officer, after training, becomes a ‘big’ officer for life. The training period is the only time when one can do every job hands-on, understand the intricacies from the ground up. Once you move up, you never experience grassroots reality again.

I didn’t fully appreciate his wisdom then. But he was remarkably prophetic. I manned that single polling booth in 1972, stamping papers, verifying voter lists, understanding the weight of every procedural detail. I saw democracy not from a command centre but from its foundation.

Fast-forward 34 years: I had been appointed Election Commissioner of India, overseeing around one million polling stations across the world’s largest democracy. From one booth to one million — it was quite a leap.

Before settling into my new role, I sought out Mr Goswami. He was living a retired life in New Delhi, and when I called, I could hear the surprise in his voice. I thanked him for that assignment that had once bruised my ego, for giving me an experience none of my peers had received. I had checked with fellow Election Commissioners and IAS officers — not one had worked as a presiding officer. What a difference it made!

Later, sitting in the chair as Chief Election Commissioner, making decisions affecting nearly a million polling stations and a billion voters, I could visualise exactly what was happening on the ground. I knew the challenges, the pressures, the protocols.

That booth in Karnal became my window into understanding the enormous machinery of Indian democracy. Every policy directive, every innovation we introduced was informed by that fundamental experience of being the last link in the democratic chain.

Mr Goswami’s lesson was simple but profound: true understanding comes from doing, not just directing. That bottom rung — that single polling booth — gave me a foundation no amount of supervision could have provided.

Yes, Mr Goswami, you were absolutely right. I did remember that experience. It became the most valuable lesson of my career.

Sometimes, the smallest assignments teach the biggest lessons. And sometimes, sulking is just a prelude to wisdom.