Bank Street Branch (February-October 1974) – Part 1

Picture Courtesy: English Wikipedia

In my last post I was telling that Sardar Nanak Singh jee, the senior most sepoy of Bank Street Branch escorted me to a corner of Karol Bagh from where I took a bus to Delhi (old) Railway station, nearby which the hotel in which I was staying was located. I had also mentioned, filled with a sense of pride and achievement that:

The saga of about forty years of my life and time in Bank of India has just begun. In an interview, sometime in June 2007 or so, I was asked, “For those readers who may not know you, could you please introduce yourself?” My reply was, “I am Gangadhar Bhadani, in mid-50s, from Ranchi (Jharkhand state). I’ve been working with Bank of India since February 1974 (starting at twenty-two and half years of age, with dreams in my eyes, see the picture attached !!!). Most people of my age know only one organization – job hopping was rare and generally not attempted those days !!! My employment with Bank of India has been really exciting and I have always enjoyed being a banker, contributing to customers’ delight and building relationships beyond banking. I have worked in a number of supervisory capacities and my employment has given me great opportunities to move to different parts of India. I have worked (including trainings) in 9 states of India at many locations – from Mumbai to Madras, from Patna to Pondicherry with sojourns in between in many places including Taljhari (a tribal village in Jharkhand) and Trivandrum.”

While traveling on the bus on way to Railway Station, a feeling enveloped that I was in an alien city where hardly anyone (except some friends studying in Delhi University and some more in Jawaharlal Nehru University) was acquainted with me. A high nostalgia of high decibel filed my being. I thought of Patna, the city where I was a student of Patna Law College (Patna University) and where just a couple of days before I used to reside either in our residence or in hostel always surrounded by family members, friends and familiar faces. My thoughts carried me to an ancient age which was no more - Patna, once the majestic city of Patliputra, the largest jewel in India’s crown, from where I had come to work in Bank of India’s Bank Street Branch, Delhi, as a Probationary Officer. In 1974, Patna was passing through traumatic times. The year had unfolded as a year with high inflation, unemployment and lack of supplies and essential commodities. Nav Nirman Andolan movement of Gujarat was ascending moment and its affect was also visible in Bihar. Groups of students and other activists  had commenced overt and covert programmes of agitation against the incumbent federal and state governments. Soon strikes and sit-in direct actions were becoming order of that time in Patna, and probably in many parts of the Republic of India. When I left Patna, Patna was almost peaceful but undercurrents were boiling with anger and frustration which also found expression in agitations against the-then ruling class, rather the ruling junta, of India. The Republic was passing thorough a phase of trauma which was to result into further trauma within next few months for the Republic. But, it was yet to unfold fully with all its ramifications in multiple dimensions – and, for now, was in store for future. And, no one had any idea of  the scenario like the Emergency Rule with all its attendant difficulties which was to be imposed in the Republic of India hardly within next one year in June 1975. On that evening of 26^th February 1974, after completing my first day’s of employment in Bank of India, while the bus was speeding from Karol Bagh to the railway station, I was thinking of the ancient Pataliputra. Once upon a time, about 2,300 years before from about 320 BC, the city was the capital of the Maurayan Empire that commanded and controlled almost all areas of the Ganges valley and much of North India. For around 1,000 years, until around 550 AD, Pataliputra was a dominating political power, controlling vast territories, and a centre of flourishing trade and commerce. At the zenith of its history, Pataliputra was the most important city of India, and one of the largest across the globe. Pataliputra was comparable and sometimes even surpassed ancient cities including Persepolis, once a royal capital of the Persian empire; Olympia, the site of the Grecian games; and Delos, the birthplace of Apollo However, there was a difference – while the other cities and civilizations has emerged, thrived and then vanished, Pataliputra was alive and kicking, it was to lead JP’s Total Revolution within next few months. Likewise, Delhi, from its earliest account as Indraprastha in the Mahabharatha too was alive despite being destroyed several times. Just 125 years before, the last Mughal Emperor, Bahadur Shah, had lamented:

Delhi was once a paradise,

Such peace had abided here;
But they have ravished its name and pride,
Remains now only ruins and care.

But, as usual, Delhi has risen like a phoenix from the ashes, and in 1974 was a vibrant capital city of India with its inherent ethos; culture and cuisine; demographical representations, not only from all parts of India, but from all the time zones across the world; its landmarks, museums and gardens; central business districts (CBD) merging with residential colonies; and, much more, much more, to be relished, felt and enjoyed by a small town boy like Bhadani.

While these thoughts were rolling inside me in waves after waves, I was also keeping a glance on the roads and the crowds. It was around 7.30 pm or so and bus stopped at few points and finally I reached my destination, the Railway station by around 8.00 pm or even early. I got down, had a relaxing feeling of having reached the place where my hotel was located. I bought some fruits, most likely apples (I don’t recollect exactly) and entered the hotel, collected the room key from the reception and went to my room. I took a good bath, changed my dress and went outside to roam around in search of foods. I have heard and even read in some newspapers that Old Delhi area including Chandani Chowk were famous for a variety of food items. Hotel owners were Sikhs and very courteous though the hotel was not very airy and ambiance was not attractive, at least for me who was not accustomed to live in hotel rooms; nevertheless, it was tolerable. The hotel people told me, “Don’t worry, if you do not get food of your choice, we have also room service.”  As I was feeling a little tired after a day which for a lazy “readohlic” like me may be described as very hectic with surging emotions at having been transformed into a Bank Officer within a day from a student, I asked for the foods which were available with them. As I had not taken bhat-dal-subji (rice, lentils and vegetable curries) for more than two days, my hunger pangs had reached intolerable limit despite having consumed sufficient calories during the day. I was dying for rice and so I ordered for rice, lentils and vegetable curries to be served after I come back from my loafing around outside the hotel.

It looked like a festival outside compared to the crowds to which I was accustomed at Patna. Many people rushing from here to there including scoters, auto rickshaws, buses all competing to surpass others. I thought that I was witnessing some sort of mad race. And, in hindsight, I understood that life is just a mad rat race. I moved hardly 200 or 300 yards away from the hotel always fearing that I will be lost in the labyrinthine lanes and by-lanes of Delhi. The scenario around me looked like a great melee. Anyway, there is always Choice in Chaos too, and I found many persons around stalls of street foods. By nature, since my childhood, I am afraid of the foods sold in such a way, and could not dare to taste any of them “at the first sight”. But, Bhadani was young at that time, not even 23 years old, and I marshalled all my spirits and strength to consume at least one variety of street foods. So many people, particularly, girls and young women consuming with all the gusto was a great motivational factor. I zeroed on a stall where crowd was less and ordered for gol-gappa (pan puris) and took several rounds. I also saw a stall nearby selling lassi, and took an earthen pot of the same. My starvation has ebbed to some extent and I found strength to explore the vicinity. I wanted to go to Chandni Chowk side but as it was getting late, I returned to the hotel, postponing it for the weekend, next Saturday was 4 or 5 days away.

In the hotel, I took my meals, and for 10 or 15 fifteen minutes read some magazines which I had purchased while travelling from Patna to Delhi. That night, I had a really sound sleep.  Next day, 27^th February 1974, I reached the branch (Bank Street) at around 9.30 am and my real life as Probationary Officer had begun.   
  
© Haripanna Associates, Ranchi (Jharkhand, India)