A response as sweet as jaggery

BACK in 2006, I was posted in Bathinda as the Public Grievance Officer. One day, a man approached the Deputy Commissioner with a complaint. The DC called me up on the intercom and said, “I’m sending Sardar Harnek Singh to you — please listen to him.”

Within minutes, the man entered my office. He touched his turban respectfully and walked towards me. I immediately stood up and said, “Harnek Singh ji, please don’t do that.” Hearing his name, he paused, surprised — perhaps wondering how I knew it. That simple recognition gave him a sense of belonging.

Touching one’s turban in such a manner reflects helplessness — an unspoken gesture often made when a person is desperate to be heard. I asked him to sit and offered him a glass of water. It was a hot day, and he drank it in one breath.

I then asked, “Please tell me what’s the issue.” And he began narrating his problem. His complaint was that the canal field officers — the kanungo and the patwari —had reduced his irrigation time slot (wari) by two minutes. He informed me that he was the father of three daughters, his land had become barren, and he couldn’t grow any crops.

Through my PA, I contacted the canal officer concerned and the patwari. It was around 1 pm. I told them to visit the site by 4 pm that day. I then assured Harnek that we would visit his fields and resolve the matter.

Harnek stood up with joy, raised both hands, and said, “Now even if you don’t come, I’m satisfied — someone has at least listened to me. I feel relieved.”

As promised, we reached his fields by 4 pm. He had also built his house there. I heard the version of the canal officer and the patwari. They explained that when a portion of land becomes unfit for cultivation (gair-mumkin), the irrigation time assigned to it is redistributed among nearby cultivable plots. Since Harnek had constructed a house on his field, that part of the land was now non-agricultural. As per rules, his irrigation share had been reduced accordingly.

I explained this to Harnek in simple words. He understood and seemed satisfied. However, we requested the next farmer in line and arranged water for Harnek’s field immediately.

The real issue wasn’t the reduction of minutes — it was the response he received earlier from officials: “We’ve done what had to be done — complain to whomsoever you want.” Harnek, though hurt, stood his ground: “Either give me my full slot as before — or I won’t take even a drop.”

I didn’t go beyond the rules. I just listened and explained. I also advised officers that they should handle such situations with logic, patience and empathy — not arrogance.

This experience taught me a profound lesson: often, people just want to be heard. Whether or not the problem is resolved, the response should always be sweet — just like jaggery.