Hidden Treasures from Safai Mission 

Pre-Deepavali Safai Mission

When a child, his meagre stock of fire-crackers and sparklers ran out in a few minutes, and he envied and resented his neighbours and friends who had enough to roar, scream, and squeal till late evening. Now, he dreads Deepavali for the deafening noise and the toxic fume; but more than that he dreads the advent of Deepavali since the whole house is turned upside down, dust swirls in the air, and the house reeks of paint. The kabadiwala is summoned multiple times, and his scales are watched with an eagle’s eye.

Were Namami Gange and the several previous projects implemented with half the missionary zeal, unwavering dedication, and dogged determination of the pre-Deepavali Safai Mission (SM) in a certain home at Baghmugalia Extension, Bhopal; Ganga’s raw water would be potable, and even packaged and sold at a premium as sparkling mineral water of Himalayan origin imbued with divinity. The devout could also take holy dips at Prayag and Kashi without squirming about the floating garbage.

SM begins with Navratri, and finishes with clock-work precision on the day before Dhan Teras; during which undeclared emergency is imposed, all hands are on deck, no leave permitted to household help. Even his daily pranayama and meditation are suspended till further notice for fear of diluting the orchestrated tension considered essential for accomplishment of the goal. In brief, the activity is frenzied.

All the curtains (how many are there, really?) are sent for laundry, collected back, counted, and hung again. All the items on showcases, collectibles from near and far elbowing one another on the drawing room table, drawers, cupboards, and trunks are taken out, each is evaluated for discarding, but most are returned to where they came from after dusting; including the many mementoes (smriti phalak in Hindi) the man had received during his years of distinguished service (these bear the name of the man in bold print, can’t be sold to the raddiwala or gifted to another!). The carpets and furniture are vacuum-cleaned with the man assigned to supervise the operation.

The house is filled with dust precipitating the man’s allergy, and the non-stop noise distracts and irritates him; but he takes SM in his stride, as a recurring seasonal flu with no known cure.

The man was startled when the lady hectored, ‘How about helping a bit? Can’t you take a little time off your reading and writing to at least clean your study room?’

That was an exaggeration, for his ‘study room’ was not for his exclusive use, but a little corner in the TV-cum-Work-out room; and not available for study when the lady watched TV.  But he stopped reading the interesting book he had in hand and launched ‘Operation SM’ for his table and drawers. Must discard stuff I haven’t used for several years, he resolved.

At the bottom of the last drawer, he found a small pocket diary (Eagle Consul Diary, 9.5 x 15.5 CMS), and began reading. Here are a few nuggets from 'Winter Tour Diary: Group 'C': Sub-Group Leader'.

Bharat Darshan

“19/12/1981: Dep Mussoorie at 8.00 am by bus, Arr at Delhi Rly station at 4.30 pm. Station Master had received the telegram from the LBSNAA, but had only 12 reserved berths for the group of 28. We gave a 2-berth coupe to AS and MM, both members of the faculty; a 2-berth coupe to the four lady batchmates; and the rest of us squeezed into two cabins.”

That’s how Bharat Darshan began for the group.

“21/12/81: Reached Kazipet at 1.15 am. Failed to board the Link Exp to Vijayawada; huge rush. MM, with intimate knowledge of South India, and many other matters including political science, had warned that Kazipet was notorious for luggage theft; so, five of us kept such watch as would frustrate even seasoned thieves; and sent the rest of our group including RK, the Group Leader, who had a mild fever to the 1^st Cl waiting Room.

Boarded Krishna Exp at 9.00 am, reached Srikakulam Rd at 2.05 am.”

A week-long visit to tribal villages; the group interviewed the tribals, and prepared, after detailed discussion, a Group Report on the socio-economic status of the tribals to be submitted to the Academy.

“31/12/81: Reached Hyd. Checked into Ananda Nilayam. Visited the Salarjung Museum. MD, A.P. Cooperative Bank hosted a lunch for us. Amiable gentleman, though a bit of a bore, fond of often recalling his illustrious Dad who was in the ICS!

Bought a Happy New Year cake for 77/- After a special dinner, we ushered in the New Year by cutting the cake at 12.00 am. Embraced everybody excepting the girls with whom we shook hands.”

The man couldn’t wait to call and share these vignettes with a few friends who were fellow-travellers in that memorable month-long trip.

A friend asked, ‘Do you recall the keen competition among the gentlemen to help the ladies with their luggage?’

‘I do. I, too, might helped when necessary since I was Sub-Group Leader.’

‘Two of our more energetic friends beat others to it, but their chivalrous porterage service was exclusively available to the two pretty girls.’

‘Well, everyone noticed, and those girls blushed a little, I guess. Alas, matters didn’t proceed further.’

A Piqued Peacock

The drawer presented yet another hidden treasure - an old photo; maybe, one that got separated from a bundle. He clicked a photo and shared it with his daughter.

She replied: I remember this. You had procured a huge bunch of real peacock feathers for my role in the school play. I was grumpy coz the teacher got me to share my feathers with other less endowed peacocks.

Moral of the Story: A peacock is much distressed when its beautiful feathers are forcibly plucked.

(Christ Jyoti School, Satna, MP; Class-3, 1994-95)

After dusting and cleaning the hidden treasures, and a pleasant trip down the memory lane, the man returned hastily to his assigned errand determined to finish it on or before Dhan Teras.

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