Acceptance Speech @ Book Release

SPEECH @ Mahindra Logistics Annual Day Conference/19 July 2012

Namaskar.

Good evening Ladies & Gentlemen.

Way back in 1972 April, I was in school final.

Just completed my examinations and had to wait for results before deciding what to do next.

My maternal grandfather, one day, said: come with me.

He took me to his office.

Eagle Transport Corporation on Armenian Street in Chennai.

I became a summer intern for Rs.50. Just for a month.

That was my first exposure to the so-called logistics.

I used to envy drivers. Because they had travelled across India and used to speak several languages.

It was a wow factor for me.

Almost 35 years later, in 2005 I landed up in Muscat to revamp a business publication. That is where I saw the maturity of logistics and supply chain.

Big companies were there. Vehicles were massive. Used to mingle with drivers - tall Pakistani and buxom Indian drivers on Fridays at roadside coffee shops; and eager to ferret out info about their life.

When I returned to India end 2009 due to a fatal accident to my daughter on Delhi-Gurgaon road - hit by a trailer tractor, my wife said, 'enough of gulf. return home.'

Daughter safe and the itch to go back was very much there. But, you know the spouse pressure!

That's when one day, I got a call from a young female voice: would you mind writing something on logistics?

It was Smati Suri of Cargo Connect. We never met until then.

I began to write for her. Thanks, Smati!

Soon after I ran into another young colleague of mine - - he was editing Cargo Times.

And he was wanting to do something different, but in logistics segment.

I said, I am ready provided it is beyond air cargo. 

Early 2010, we launched Logistics Times.

We agreed that Logistics Times will not be a cut and paste stuff. Not a garland of events happening in transport and cargo focused companies.

Because we genuinely felt logistics and transport industry deserves better media attention.

No business publication was touching them for a cover story kind of treatment though they deserved such coverage all the time.

We imposed some conditions on ourselves.

we won't put pen to paper or key in a single word, unless we visit and interact with people.

And we said, no cover story will be based on one single interview with Chairman or CEO.

We will meet all vertical heads and then the story.

Luckily for us, the industry understood our seriousness.

When LT reached the desks of logistics companies, they saw the difference and liked it.

 That is when I begin to focus on Transport.

 Began to spend time with genuine transporters with sizeable fleet.

 Added to that was my association with Automotive Logistics of London for whom I was stringing from India.

Louis Yiakoumi - whom you all know personally - and myslef hit it off very well right from day one.

In the course of writing my maiden story on Indian car carrier industry for him, I met Vipul Nanda of Mercurio Pallia Logistics.

We became thick friends and well wishers of each other's profession.

I used to ask friends in KPMG, Frost and Sullivan, Accenture who used to come out with thick tomes on logistics etc whether they have travelled in a truck for long distances. Their response was no. Then I asked friends in transport industry. Their response was again no.

Yes they did travel for short distances. But in an air-conditioned car behind their fleet!

Bingo! That was the time, I had completed the Blue Ocean Strategy, a well known book about new business opportunities.

I said to myself, nobody has travelled in a truck for long distance - say from Gurgaon to Chennai or in the reverse direction.

Why not I bloody hell do it?

I mailed Louis about my intention.

He jumped at it and said go ahead and Christopher Ludwig, Editor, called up to say, write a diary on the proposed trip for me!

I was pretty happy.

Not my family. My 80 plus mother in law asked: "are you crazy?"

My 60 plus brother in law, somewhere sitting in the audience now, chastised his sister: "what does your husband think of himself: 15 year old kid? He is 55 and diabetic."

My wife knew my temperament and kept quiet.

Daughter jumped in glee and said, 'cool idea. do it".

I travelled from Chennai to Gurgaon with 8 Hyundai i10s on a Mercurio Pallia over 7-8 days on my maiden trip.

First night was tough.

That's when I watched the lifestyle of drivers. How they were pilloried. Harassed. How they were not trusted by maliks.

Then went stayed with two drivers' families to understand their family surroundings.

In fact, I attended a child marriage in Rajasthan.

And a sahai in Sultanpur.

Both events belonging to drivers.

When I had completed 10,000 km through multiple trips, wrote the book over 3 weeks in my inlaws place in Chennai.

Then came the critical question: how to get it published.

It is then Vipul sprung a surprise. He said that his company - Pallia transport company - has completed 50 years and he plans to celebrate in a big way.

Would you mind if i back your book?

 I literally hugged him.

I don't want to talk about the book because i want each one of you to read.

I can humbly submit that no one will give such a ringside view of your industry.

Thanks to encouragement from the industry, i did not stop.

As of today, i had completed another 7,000 km before summer halted me - temporarily. More trips are in the pipeline.

I have become fascinated with Indian highways, transport and drivers.

When the first edition was launched November last year, the response was huge and tremendous.

Today, I can boast of a fan club across the globe.

Vipul, Fiat's Kalpesh Pathak, Louis have become my unofficial ambassadors by talking about my book across globe.

I began to get mails and calls from many places asking for copy.

Some friends from IIMs called up to say, 10,000 KM on Indian Highways is included in the "Must Read" list!

That's when the idea of second edition cropped up

I must confess that the only contact i made soon after this idea came was to knock on Mr Piroz Sarkari's office.

Within 30 minutes after my mail was sent, my inbox flashed, "let us do it" from Nasserwanji Huafeed, on behalf of Mr Sarkari.

Significantly, Mr Sarkari was present at the November launch and actually I stood next to him on stage when the photo opportunity came up.

A million thanks to you, Mr Sarkari and Mahindra Logistics for this special gesture! And Hua, to you also for facilitating this dream come true!

I am onto my next book: with lot more fresh insight and input.

Am sure, God will send someone to back that book also.

A special thanks to all transporters who are gathered here and who are not here also who encouraged me all along and they continue to do that even now.

And to my family and friends. One of them said, "Discovery of India - Ramesh Way"! Another nicknamed me: Highway Humrahi!

Now ....

I must tell you this. Whenever my wife plans a trip, she asks: plane ticket? train ticket? or your free truck trip? Actually, 17000 km of free Bharat darshan so far!

I had just landed up this morning from Petropole, the Indo-Bangladesh border town - spending time with drivers from all across India waiting to help Indian companies to sell their products to our neighbour over 10 days.

I saw Mahindra and Mahindra gensets crossing the border. I saw Leyland AC buses waiting on the Indian side. Caterpillar road making machineries in the CWC parking lot. Also spent time with hundreds of drivers living pathetic life there.

It is nothing new to me.

Ladies and Gentlemen, while our soldiers guard our borders from external aggression, these drivers are quietly doing a very big favour to each one of us.

Tatas, Birlas, Ambanis, Mahindras and a whole lot of them sink in huge dollops of money in building a massive industrial empire to build a robust India.

For which, they need drivers to push raw materials from wherever to the assembly lines and when final products are ready, again drivers are needed to push the same to the nooks and corners of this vast nation called India. We must give them due recognition.

...

Just two days ago, I got a call from a driver friend from Pune.

Mr Nalin Mehta (CEO, Mahindra Navistar) will be happy to hear this.

"Sirji, hamara company 10 Mahindra Navistar karid liya. Training bhi ho gaya."

I asked him: "Kaisa lag raha hai, Pandeyji!" Like a typical Indian TV Reporter!

Because his favourite until now was Mann trucks.

By the way, who is Pandeyji? you are curious to know, I am sure.

Read the book. He is one of the main lively characters in my book!

"Sirji, you come for a trip with me in Navistar. Jamshedpur to Ludhiana with Tata Steel load. See for yourself."

I had done the same route with him in February 2011.

Am itching, Mr Mehta for the Mahindra Navistar experience!

Ladies and Gentlemen,

It is often said, travel expands mindspace.

I don't know about that.

But I must tell you ...

That these 'trips and travels' got me a whole lot of new friends: drivers to cleaners to RTOs to Inspector Generals of Police to ... ufff... what not!

My daughter makes fun of me, saying: "papa, your mobile has more driver category numbers than anybody else!"

Thanks you all once again for this lovely opportunity.

Jai Hind!

Kolkota Diary-9

Residents of Heaven were kind enough to keep the temperature low enough ever since i stepped out of Delhi 10 days ago.

Kolkota, where we are camped now, is no different. it has been raining and cloudy most of the day.
this makes moving around much easier and comfortable. You don't sweat in Kolkota's yellow taxis.
Must tell you, these taxis are the backbone of Kolkota. Get a feeling that hindustan motors survives thanks to Kolkota cab scenario.

After govt of India has more or less moved its sole dependence on Ambassadors over the past several years, sales of Ambassador have plummeted, but not in West Bengal.

no other auto OEM is allowed perhaps to sell their wares for public taxi purpose.

Maybe Hindustan Motors is a Kolkota=based company with a workforce to support. Nothing wrong.
Maharashtra govt used to support Premier Automobiles - makers of Fiat and company based out of the state - as cabs.

Today, the scene has immensed. You find all kinds of cabs in Mumbai beyond Fiats.

***

Our day began with a visit to Kolkota Customs as we had been asked to return and give a feedback on Petropole, on the Indo-Bangladesh border through which 60 per cent of trade takes place.
Moreover, we have to get fresh approval to other other Land Customs Stations in West Bengal before proceeding.

Had a long discussion with Commissioner Gurmeet Singh.

Later, we were asked to meet Shailendra Sharma, Additional Commissioner, who had long exposure to LCS in Bengal.

He met us with two of his officers: Assistant Commissioners M K Sharma and P K Sircar in his utilitarian, colour-coordinated, spacious cabin on the third floor of Kolkota Customs House in Babughat.

He heard us out and gave his assessment of the LCS in West Bengal.

Contacts at various LCS were provided and alerted as well about our impending visit. Trade data through various LCS in Bengal into Bangalesh were sought by us and the process is underway.

***

Around Esplanade, if you are looking for a decent airconditioned restaurant to sit and eat, you will be disappointed.

For the second time over the past 10 days, we had to go around in circles trying to locate one.  But the plethora of roadside foodstalls, frequented by office goers is amazing. They do roaring business, no doubt.

Alam, my colleague, commented that the Left front government perhaps decided not to  permit growth of such sit-and-eat restaurants and instead encouraged the mushrooming growth of roadside stand-and-eat foodstalls! Don't know, how far that is true. But not a bad hypothesis!

We had no other option but to return to Limelight, opposite Telephone Bhavan, where we ate last time. The staff were familiar with us. Excellent food arrived well in time. Of course, the quantity was huge, forcing us to leave our plates half untouched.

***

Cruising through Kolkota is a nightmare. Next port of halt for us was Engineering Export Promotion Council in Woods Street, closer to Park Street. Passing through this famous road (why it is called street?), brought back memories of Harold Robbins 79 Park Avenue, one of his magum opuses, that I had devoured in the mid 1970s.

Bhaskar Sircar, Executive Director, EEPC, was more than happy to hear and share our  views on Indo-Bangladesh trade facilitation study which we were conducting. Over cups of tea, we had long discussion.

When we stepped out, it was almost half past four and decided to return for rest and recovery before starting our interactions the next day.

Another yellow Ambassador cab and another dare devilry ride on Kolkota roads. Traffic planning leaves much to be desired.

***

Previous night halt near Howrah station was not much to our comfort and decided to move out to the neighbouring facility. Our choice of The Ashoka Hotel was good. Decent tariff, decent room service, polite staff and lot of quietitude once you are  inside its premises. Fit for business travellers with limited budget. Connectivity is superb. Will highly recommend for new visitors to Kolkota.

Kolkota Diary-8

The last day at Petropole turned out to be as jampacked as the previous few days we had spent on this Indo-Bangladesh border town. Thanks to the labour dispute between contractors and unloading/loading labour on the Bangladesh side, there was no export/import between these two SAARC neighbours.

Naturally, Petropole remained a ghost town for the third consecutive day. One last trip, said colleague Alam. Now we had managed to bargain and avail Bongaon-Petropole autoride at Rs.70 instead of Rs.100 on day one! Almost all autodrivers at both ends knew our presence in their midst. Our popularity among Customs and driving community also ensured that we got a fair deal.

Post breakfast, we stepped out for our meetings with Customs House Agents (CHAs), the vital link in any foreign trade. Manufacturer or merchandise exporter/importer may do all that is necessary. Transporters and fleet owners may deploy trucks to haul the stuff to the border town.

But to get the paper work done at the Customs is the sole responsibility of CHAs. Without them, your sale/purchase is as good as non-existent. Loaded with tonnes of paper, gotten from their headquarters in Kolkota, these worker bees move mountains of papers at the Customs to ensure goods actually move out of Indian territory into Bangladesh or vice versa.

There are hundreds of CHAs, operating out of 5 x 8 dungeon offices, bang opposite Customs office at Petropole. They know as much as Customs officials know about various sub sections and legal provisions of foreign trade.

With Mumbai-based Alistair of Bianca Logistics who handles Mahindra & Mahindra's generators export to Bangladesh - who incidentally was introduced to us my Chairman of Gurgaon-based South Eastern Carriers Yash Pal Jain (a well wisher and a source of knowledge to me on transportation and logistics) - we zeroed in on Dilip Bachaar (see pix above) of JK Overseas in Petropole. Gautam Pandya, another CHA from Kolkota also referred us to DB.

Having spoken to him over the past two days, we landed up at his tiny office. He willingly made us go through the paper formalities that enable export patiently while Alam took volumnious notes. Fifteen years of hard labour has made him a good source of information.

He guides us to Gopal Ghosh (see pix above) of TCI Freight next door, another veteran. Next in line was our telecon with Samar Das of J L Goward & Co, another CHA, who was in Kolkota since the border is closed for trade. He handles M&M tractors movement between these two countries.

One last trip, we made to Deputy Commissioner U C Das's office where he greeted us in his T-shirt. He was in a very relaxed mood and cheerful. Not because there was less work, but due to the fact that he got trasnsferred to Kolkota, his hometown and he would be packing his bag and baggage within a week's time!

One final government of India free lunch for us before we shook hands with as many Superintendents of Customs as we could meet and stepped out.

Our next halt was the Integrated Check Post (ICP) just behind the sprawling CWC Parking Lot and just across the Indo-Bangladesh railway track manned by Border Security Force.

SVEC Project Head Raman Bhowmick and RITES officer Suraj Srivastava  (see pix above) spent 30 minutes explaining what was going on at the site. Approach road to the proposed ICP may be an issue that needs sorting out. We saw the complete model of ICP. Also witnessed ground levelling, filling up of a water area ('not a pond!') and other activities. Earlier, Deputy Commissioner had indicated a team is coming to visit the ICP over the next two days.

We got out and reached our Bongaon guest house around half past three, checked out and boarded our taxi for Kolkota.

By eight, we were safely resting at a lodge, hardly a stone's throw away from the famous Howrah Bridge.

Over the next few days, our engagement will be confined to Kolkota: customs, Dunkuni transport park, exporters, transporters etc.

Kolkota Diary-7

When the call came asking, "would you mind meeting the North Parganas 24 (North) MLA?" from Trinamool Congress local President Dilip Das - whom I know as Secretary of Bongaon Lorry Owners Association, I said 'yes'.

Biswajeet Das (See pix above: right) must be in is mid-30s. He was tall and bespectacled and seated in the party office adjacent to Bongaon Municipal Office near NH 35. More than a dozen partymen were tightly squeezed into the narrow space when I walked in, escorted by the 70 plus Dilip Das.

I was alerted well in advance that the MLA is not comfortable speaking Hindi or English, but fluent in Bengali, his mother tongue.

"Don't worry. Am there," assured the multi-linguist Dilip Das.

There was another fat gentleman sitting next to him, who was introduced as Gopal Seth (see pix above: left), ex-MLA from the same constituency and presently member of the Regional Transport Authority. Luckily, he was like Dilip Das, multilinguist.

Am afraid of linguistic challenges because the true essence of what is spelt out gets lost when translated. Even the choice of words convey a lot when the spoken language is common between the speaker and listener.

I seldom faced linguistic challenge on the Indian soil. By and large, Hindi played the bridge language - not English.

Both Seth and the MLA - an usual sight of two young and ambitious politicians who have a stake in the constituency sitting and working together - regaled me with what their Trinamool Congress under one year old Mamta Banerjee government has done for Bongaon and what it plans to do to promote trade between India and Bangladesh. Specific queries were answered promptly by Seth and at times by the MLA with Dilip Das translating the same into Bengali and retranslating the same into Hindi/English for my convenience.

Political talk is nothing new. Each politician would try to show his party performance in glowing colours. Opposition would invariably try to belittle what is achieved by ruling establishment. You have to tread cautiously and weed out propaganda from performance by assessing the ground reality.

My request to visit Bongaon Municipal Parking, the first halting point for outstation vehicles coming into Bongaon, was acceded to. A 3-wheeler was commissioned to take me to the Parking lot (see below).

It was getting hot. The vehicle navigated through narrow gullies and speedbreaker-cum-pothole filled roads to reach the Parking lot, capable of holding 1000 vehicles at any point of time and plans are underway to expand the same to take additional 1000 vehicles. Laudable.

I could spot 150 vehilces with various items from various parts of India parked. It was tough spotting drivers in the campus. One was busy lashing the tarpaulin while another was taking bath at the huge rectangular tank at the back of Parking facility.

The administrative block was in pathetic state. Several rooms meant as rest room for drivers was in dilated state and filled up with rubbish and uncleaned for how long, I don't know. Most of the rooms of ground plus two floors was out of use for how long I don't know.

Why not given to drivers for resting? I could not resist asking.

"Union problems," crisply answered my driver companion and an INTUC volunteer.

However there was just one single office room with a young adminstrative clerk issuing parking tickets to incoming lorries from his desktop and printer (see below).

A small crowd of people collected, from where they come, I have no idea.

I climbed up the floors to go to the terrace: dirty, uncleared and several seasons of dried fungus several inches thick greeted. There was no railing as I climbed the stairs.

Clicked a few photographs and then noticed a few drivers sleeping under a tree near the exit gate.

A yellow board displayed Police Chowki near the entrance, but no police was present.

"They do come," chipped in my INTUC friend.

Walking around the administrative block, noticed a foursome group of drivers and assistants under a truck having their lunch (see pix below).

Approaching them, I 'helloed' and enquired. They have come from Uttar Pradesh, carrying glass sheets for Bangladesh. They were stranded at the Parking lot for five days due to border closure on account of labour strife on Bangladesh side.

"Why can't these people be allowed to eat in the unused administrative block?" I asked.

There was no response.

Were they asked to pay anything extra?

"No" said one them.

Of course, a Rs.10 bakshish is demanded when exiting, quipped another.

Noticed another driver was taking bath near his truck from the large paint container.

Why not bathing at the bathing ghat at the back of the parking facility?

"You have any problem if I bath here?" he shot back.

I did not say anything and moved on.

Told the INTUC volunteer to bring the 3-wheeler to the exit gate and meanwhile I walk across the length of the parking lot and join him.

That is when I bumped into the half a dozen drivers lying on their bellies and watching me curiously while their photos were clicked by me (see pix below).

They have arrived from Hosur, driving Leyland chassis, this morning and no clue as to how long they may have to wait to cross over.

All of them from Jharkhand and they were waiting for one of their colleagues to complete his bath before planning their lunch.

I looked at the wrist watch which read: 2.35 p.m.

I also begun to feel hungry.

Trooped out and got into the vehicle.

When the INTUC volunteer offered lunch, I politely declined.

Got outside the Bongaon Municipal Office, thanked him and began to walk back to the guest house.

It was hot and most of the shops were shut for lunch.

Perhaps they may open after 5 in the evening.

Who is going to come for shopping in this heat and dust?

Near the Bongaon police station, I stopped to buy a Walls cone ice cream.

Biting into it, I looked around.

Two sugarcane juice vendors were parked on both sides of the bridge and crushing tender sugarcane to serve a few customers. Under the bridge, on the vast expanse of dirty, but shimmering water, long boats were bobbing, unmanned. A kite was hoveirng in the horizon, looking for its prey.

Thought of eating in any of the eatery. Everything was shut, excepting one or two tea stalls.

I walked into the guest house and ordered the same 'rice-dal-salad' routine.

And began to wait for food to be delivered in my room and also for Alam who had gone to Petropole for the survey.

How many more days in this place? I began to wonder.

Kolkota Diary-6

Petropole, suddenly, began to look like a ghost town.

Reason: all import and export activities between India and Bangladesh has come to a grinding halt.

With no movement of vehicle from both sides till the issue is sorted out at the Bangladesh end, the ghost town impression will continue.

I had an inclination of what to do expect on Monday at Petropole even before reaching the Indo-Bangladesh border town at the teastall next to the guest house where I stay.

When you wake up at 5 at the crack of dawn and the guesthouse can't provide a hot cuppa at that hour, I have no other option but to step out for this hot beverage.

That is where I ran to Gopal Chakraborty's tea stall (see picture above). He speaks and understands Hindi. He has to because most of the drivers who frequent his teastall from the nearby private parking lot where outstation hauliers (lorries) terminate and go in for a truck to truck transfer enabling local transporters to handle the 'last mile' connectivity between bongaon and petropole and then onto bonapole on the Bangladesh side. All this last mile activity will comprise of just 10 km. Why this arrangement? Well, examine this in a later dispatch!

"Chai with milk?" Yes.

"With cheeni (sugar)?" No.

"Anything to munch?" Yes, but what?

"Some local biscuits or banana. Very good both." Biscuits yes, banana, no.

He pulled out a pump stove from somewhere behind him in his teashop, pumped kerosene into the fire nozzle, pinned the hole for easy flow, then allowed it for a few seconds before crashing a match stick against the rough side of match box.

Soon, the pump stove was in a blaze. While it was settling down with the right blue flame, he moved to the chulna (kitchen hearth) where he cooks food perhaps which was emitting white smoke to put a kettle with water for boiling.

He kept me engaged while washing a glass with hot water by asking a volley of questions.

Before I had my first sip of less-sugar tea and biting into the soft biscuit, tall Tapan Kundu (see below) walked in. He had a few days' stubble and sat next to me, ordering his cuppa.

"He has come from Bonapole," said Gopal to me by way of introduction.

I 'hello'ed Tapan.

"Due to some labour problem on the Bangladesh side, Tapan cannot get his empty vehicle out of Bonapole. Moroever, by the time he unloaded his Indian exports on the other side, it was past 6 pm and the gates are closed till next morning 10 a.m," explained Gopal.

I know of the labour strife on Bangladesh because Kartik Chakraborty had hinted at some dispute over loading/unloading charges between labour and contractors at Bonapole. Labour is paid approx. Rs.25 per tonne as against Rs.67 on Indian side. This issue has been simmering for sometime on Bangladesh side, but worsened on Monday with them stopping work.

No loading/unloading, no exports/imports from or into Bangladesh.

But how come, Tapan has left his vehicle on Bangladesh side and returned to Indian side?

"Bloody, you cannot get anything to eat decently on that side," flared up Tapan.

Since he is a Bongon resident (hardly 8-9 km from the border), he parked his empty vehicle on the Bangla side, requested other outstation drivers to monitor his vehicle, crossed the Indian border, gone home, ate and slept overnight.

Here he is for his morning cuppa before rushing to the border with the hope the labour dispute would be resolved and he would be able to drive his stranded vehicle out of Bangla into India.

Tapan is not the only driver to crib about food issues. Roop Sharma of TCI Freight, ferrying BOC Gas from Jamshedpur to Bangladesh, crisply remarks: "I carry three kilos of puffed rice (kurmura), channa (Bengal gram), some fruits and 5 litres of water to survive till my return to India." He is a vegetarian and he is confident he will get nothing to satiate his vegetarian hunger. What is available on that side is only meat, beef, chicken, mutton.

Gates opened or shut, it does not matter for us. We scooter down to Petropole. There is no usual crowd on roads and the Customs office is also deserted. Where are the milling CHA agents? Where are the inspectors assigned to examine, appraise and inspect vehicles bound for and into India? Even the first floor hall is bereft of any human beings! Are we in an alien land?

"Ah, come, come!," greets A K Maity, Senior Superintendent (Admin). He is also relaxed. No exports, no imports. So no work, he points out.

"Huge loss of foreign exchange," says he, while leading us to his cubicle. For the first time over the past three days, we notice that he has a cubicle and a seat to sit, desktop on his table. Otherwise, we have mostly seen him in Deputy Commissioner U C Das's cabin - standing and sitting next to him with a clutch of papers.

According to him, Bangaldesh loading/unloading workers have struck work demanding higher wages. They are paid approx Rs.25 (Bangladesh Taka) per tonne as against Rs.67 in India! It was a long running dispute and now struck work. Till it is sorted out, Indian vehicles already in Bangladesh border cannot unload and therefore cannot return. Similarly, no Bangladesh vehicle with stuff for India is permitted to cross into Indian territory.

How long this stalemate will continue, nobody has a clue. Till then, it is leisure for everyone.

Meanwhile, Maity explains the complete export documentation process patiently - both the manual pre-EDI days and the current EDI regime procedure. Four Superintendents and a dozen inspectors clear approx. 300 vehicles daily between 10 a.m. and 6 p.m. for exports and approx. 150 vehicles for import into India.

With a CHA agent in tow, we step into CWC Parking lot for some pen-and-paper survey. A huge crowd collects around Alam out of curiosity and debate whether to participate or not. Some decide to help. Others remain such as bystanders. They are not keen. What will come out of this survey? is asked.

CWC Parking lot is full of activity. Several groups are playing cards (see pix above); some sleeping. hundreds of cycles, belonging to locals, parked. While Alam is busy filling forms, I sit with some drivers whom I have befriended over the past two days and begin to hear their harrowing tales. Universal complaint is that nobody cares for them. No drinking water on both sides. No sheds for them stay. We notice a huge hall earmarked "Drivers Room" but kept under lock and key and when I peep in, it is filled with wired mesh and lot of unwanted items. No driver is allowed inside. Kitchen sheds are converted into cycle stands. Fencing is broken on compound walls at several places.

Drivers shout and scream and curse CWC for neglecting them.

Post lunch, we return for second round of pen-and-paper survey. Again, a motley collects and assist Alam to fill up a few forms.

From nowhere a CITU representative emerges in a bicycle and holds forth on how the present government is doing nothing.

I ask him: your left front government was in power for 35 years and what it has done for these drivers? The fat, trade union leader unfurls the CPM flag and asks his cohorts to hold it in the background and he goes on and on (see above). We wriggle out by promising to meet him at his office next evening. Uff!

There is total neglect and indifference of drivers by CWC. There can be no two opinions on this score. Why? No one is ready to answer. Will have to take it up with CWC once back in Delhi.

To be born and or become a driver in India is a curse, I begin to feel.

Except the Shillong-born Christian Daniel, adopted by the UP Hindu driver Tewariji as his son, nobody wants to leave 'drivery'. Daniel prays that he gets a peon's job in some government office.

Two young Bengali drivers quietly say: "Six months before deciding to marry, we will give up driving."

Why, boys?

"Tell me, which girl will marry a driver?" am pointedly asked.

Yes, which girl will marry drivers? None.

These remarks keep reverberating as our 3-wheeler returns us to our airconditioned guest house for the night and till we step out the next morning.

Maybe I will visit Gopal's teastall tomorrow also. Who knows, he has something new to tell. Or I may bump into some new acquaintance.

Everything is in the realm of possibility.

Kolkota Diary-5

Sunday it was.

In Bongaon/Petropole, sun is out very early.

Crack of dawn is around five a.m.

Construction workers at the site behind my guest house are already at work.

Sun plays a bit hide and seek.

Working on Sunday? In India?

Is Sunday not a holiday in India?

"Not in Petropole," reminds the guest house desk hand.

Why?

"Because Bangladesh works on Sundays and it is closed on Fridays," I am told.

Oh! It takes me back to my Gulf days where we used to observe Fridays as weekly offdays and work on Sundays!

"For me, seven days' work," quips Deputy Commissioner of Customs Uttara Chand Das (see pix below. Extreme left), with two more years service left, in his chambers at Petropole, hardly 50 metres away from the Zero Land - linking India with Bangladesh.

How come?

"Look, my family lives in Kolkota (100 km away) and I live in Petropole in government guest house. Fridays when our offices here is closed, I have to rush to Kolkota for meeting with my seniors there. They don't work on Saturdays and Sundays. I leave for Kolkota on Thursday night, stay at my home, meet officials on Friday and return Saturday morning back to Petropole. So it is a 7-days week!", explains the portly, tall official who has served in the entire north east.

Das' take on life is interesting. Actually, this kind of lifestyle is not taxing, claims he.

How? "When you love your work and passionate, you don't notice the passage of time," says he.

Sitting in the huge hall where customs house agents are eagerly awaiting his signature on documents, already vetted, inspected and assessed by inspectors and superintendents, I look outside the giant window. Over 500 plus trucks - carrying Hero motorcycles, steel rods, girders, Caterpillar machines and what not - are standing in a long queue to exit out of the 17-acre CWC parking lot.

Das, who is holding additional charge of exports in the absence of the previous officer having shifted out, is spending more time in Exports building since, "exports are more important and the volume is also more compared to imports" as he points out.

The chirpy and most powerful - I wish to call him human dynamo - Kartik Chakraborty, Secretary of CHA union - (see at the start of this dispatch) ambles into Das's cabin. For a change, his eyewear is most noticeable thanks to the red frame. I pull his legs saying, "By mistake you have come into this field. You should be in Kollywood or Bollywood".

Catch hold of Kartik and your worries will vanish is what one hears everywhere. I heard his name in Delhi and then in Kolkota Customs and of course in Bongaon. The early 30s Bengali does not walk. He is always on a trot. Like his walk, his talk is also on a 'fast track'. Beautifully switching between Bengali, English and Hindi, he directs all and sundry. Even Das and his officers listen and respect him.

Out in the CWC Parking lot, he tells you so much about happenings you wish you can record every single word of his for a possible book on the Indo-Bangladesh trade through Petropole. At the export entry gate, he halts and gets us engaged with security officials. Then he quietly slips in a private security agent - Jeeban Kar - and when he begins to tell his tale, Kartik babu moves a few steps behind me to wink at him signalling 'not to tell more'. I catch him redhanded and he is embarassed.

"No, no. Jeeban, tell eveyrthing," he goads now. Very down to earth guy.

If anyone tells they have not heard of Kartik, don't beleive them. They are bluffing. He is so popular.

Past lunch, he ushers in three Bangladesh clearing and forwarding agents (see above) into the Das' office conference room for a frank talk with us. Indian side also present. Das along with his colleagues is also present. Sohrab Hussain, the only Bangladeshi with fluent Hindi, tells his side of tale, ably assisted by his seniors in Bengali.

By the time, the 90 minute meeting gets over, we have pinned issues that need quick redressal.

We step out of all meetings and find the Sunday sun has ready to bid goodbye.

A terrific Sunday it turned out to be.

Gentleman RTOs?

Sounds a bit like 'oxymoron', no doubt.

How can the attribute of gentlemanliness and RTO can go together?

In the good old days, they used to say that the specie called "gentleman communist" was non-existent. How can a gentleman be a communist or vice versa?  Similiarly, gentlemanliness or gentlewomanliness and RTO tribe can't coexist! Therefore it is an 'oxymoron'.

I had these thoughts buzzing through my mind  a few weeks ago, as I was traversing through southern Tamilnadu.

Actually I was visiting Ashok Leyland's Driver Training Institute (DTI) at Namakkal and in the course of chat with Surendran, Senior Manager in-charge of this faciilty, he dropped the name of Rajnikant. No, not the matinee idol who is deified in the entire Tamil nadu and boasts of a huge fan failling even in the Land of Rising Sun (Japan)!

I was told Rajnikant is a straightforward RTO manning from Namakkal.

What is so special about him? I demanded from my host.

"Meet him and then you will know," I was advised.

Soon I was motoring down to his office, situated behind the district collectorate, almost five kilometre from Leyland DTI.

The officer had graciously offered to pick me up which I accepted.

He had heard about my book, 10,000 KM on Indian Highways and also fully aware that I had labelled RTOs as "Highways Vultures".

Honestly, I was a bit scared of facing Rajnikant.

Given his uprightness and popularity among drivers' community, I felt like a criminal walking into a police station.

Over a cool glass of water, he began to unspool his experience as law enforcement officer on Tamilnadu highways.

His father, Ramakant, was equally renowned in Tamilnadu transport circles for his honesty and fair mindedness.

Like father, like son? Perhaps.

"There was a time when drivers when halted on highways, used to climb down with documents in tact, walk upto us waiting on the roadside, display documents page by page and wait for approval. Invariably, their papers used to be in tact and we used to sign off them in double quick time," said the moustachoied late forties gazetted officer, who has a fascination for vintage cars. He is credited with hosting an annual vintage car rally in Ooty until recently.

At times, he narrated, drivers who had exposure to working in the British time, walk in briskly, get their papers checked and before waking out, used to mouth, "God, bless you, my son!"

He was unspooling his father's and his own expeirence in Ooty where he had served several years before moving down to Namakkal.

From the look of the approaching driver, Rajnikant confides, he can make out that something is amiss. "I trust a lot on body language. It tells you everything even before talks gtranspire,' he adds.Most of the drivers will be shabbily dressed in lungis. Smell of liquor and beedies. Take it for granted that they will be ignorant what papers they carry. They have not been taught or shown and exlained by their supervisors at the loading bay the necessary details.

"When you see them, either sympathy or anger will swell," says he matter of factly.

Not all RTOs are dishonest and look for bribe, he asserts.

There are many like him - he does not say that - who have a spotless record.

Law abiding officers they are, except when political masters - read the ruling class - makes them turn a blind eye to blatant violation of rules and regulations.

We are helpless when we were told not to do certain things. Even if we try to follow the rules, it would be futile, he adds.

According to him, TVS drivers are the best lot. They know their onions. They are fullly aware of contents of papers/documents they are carrying.

You look at these documents and they are off in no time.

No harassment. Smooth passage for drivers with no fear or favour.

He demands an autographed copy of my book which I promised to send from the hotel room.

"Always remember that there are honest RTOs are also in the service. Dont tar all of us with the same brush," says he without any rancour. Amazing guy, indeed.


He reels out a set of names, which I quick jot down in my handbook for future contacts, whom I should meet to get the other side of the picture viz., the honest brigade.

Sometimes, if senior officials are serious, RTOs can do wonders. He cites the case of how lorries carrying sand - a big business in Tamilnadu - refused to cover the material which as is to be expected used to fly in all directions causing traffic disruptions to vehicles that are behind.

Under Rajnikant's instructions and with the district collector's full cooperation, he and his team were to ground all uncovered sand-carrying lorries. Despite initial protests, fleet owners have no other option but to fall in line with Rajnikant's 'cover-your-sand freight' diktat.


"It is a basic requirement and in the interest of all. However, this has somehow been sidestepped. How much extra it would cost to cover the sand with a tarpaulin or plastic cover?," asks he rhetorically.


Somehow, the Traffic Inspector who had halted the truck-on-truck freight of Ashok Leyland coming from Pant Nagar, Uttaranchal to Hosur,Tamilnadu and gingerly got his 'mamool' from my drivers crew flashed back on my memory. He had the gumption to demand that he be photographed with me on the highway and asked a copy be sent. Or how can I forget a lady officer who had halted us carrying polyester granules from Bangalore to Mangalore near Hassan and extracted her pound of flesh? Or the team in Uttar Pradesh on NH 2 near Kanpur were forced to challan for some unclear charges when they noticed my presence in one of the car carriers with Maruti Suzuki vehicles for delivery and learnt that I am a journalist?

There are people like Rajnikant. And there are people, unlike him.

It is mixed world. Isn't it?