My journey in government service began early, at the tender age of 19. For a young man, the corridors of power were intimidating, but I was determined that my job would not mark the end of my education; it would only be the beginning. I lived a double life: official files by day and textbooks by night. Over the years, I balanced my duties while acquiring an MA, an MBA, and a Law degree.
It was not a smooth ride. I chased the dream of the Civil Services, clearing the Preliminary Examinations twice, yet missing the final cut. But I refused to let a scorecard define my potential. I channelled that perseverance into the Limited Departmental Competitive Examination conducted by the UPSC. That success in 1982 was a watershed moment – it wasn’t just a promotion from a non-gazetted to a Gazetted Officer; it was proof that if one door closes, hard work forces another open.
When I assumed charge as a Section Officer in the Planning Commission (now NITI Aayog), I realized that “rank” is earned not just by exams, but by the hunger to learn. Today, decades later, standing before the Central Administrative Tribunal (CAT) in the black robes of an Advocate, I realize the journey was never about the designation. It was about the classroom. My elder brother once told me, “No one can stop you from the merit list.” But the merit list is not a destination; it is a moving target. Through my rise from the ranks to Director, and now in my second innings in law, my mantra has evolved into three simple pillars: Planning , Perseverance , a n d Perfection.
The Unexpected Gurus In the hierarchy of government service, we often look ‘up’ for mentorship. My humble beginnings taught me to look around. While I was grateful to my academic professors, my real gurus were often the Upper Division Clerks and Assistants who knew the pulse of the files better than anyone. Having walked in their shoes, I knew that rank does not equal wisdom. Decades later, when technology shifted the landscape, I found another guru in my younger son, then in middle school, who taught me the art of PowerPoint presentations.
This reinforced a vital lesson: learning has no age limit, and a true student has no ego. I was fortunate to have role models like Dr. P.L. Sanjeev Reddy, an IAS officer who encouraged me to write and speak publicly. Similarly, Shri Harish Chandra entrusted me with the Official Language Unit at the age of 53. I remember my first meeting, stumped by the word Pravishti (entry). That moment of hesitation forced me to re-learn Hindi – not just as a language of files, but as a language of Anubhuti (feeling). This literary re-awakening led me to pen four books of poetry, one of which was even chosen by a student at Kurukshetra University for an M.Phil thesis.
It was a humbling reminder that a bureaucrat’s pen can hold more than just orders. This passion for dissemination led me to the training halls of the Institute of Secretariat Training and Management (ISTM). My “classroom” was vast and varied. I had the enriching experience of interacting with the full spectrum of the administration – from Multi-Tasking Staff (MTS) to IPS officers at the National Police Academy (NPA). I also cherish the sessions at BIPARD (Bihar Institute of Public Administration & Rural Development), where I interacted with officers from various services in Combined Induction Courses.
Whether addressing a junior recruit or a senior policymaker, the challenge was always the same: to facilitate ethical thinking. Being selected as a National Facilitator for Ethics and Values in Public Governance by DoPT and UNDP was a turning point that cemented my belief in lifelong learning. I retired from government service in 2013. However, I did not rush immediately into the courtroom. It took time to gather the necessary confidence and to transition from an administrator’s mindset to a litigator’s discipline. That moment finally arrived in 2024, when a client placed trust in me to plead a case before the Central Administrative Tribunal.
It was a leap of faith – both for the client and for me. Since then, the courtroom has become my new classroom. The lessons are thrilling. Recently, the rigorous ‘planning’ from my administrative days paid off when I successfully argued a matter involving a client’s regular promotion. Similarly, in contesting a transfer order, it was my deep familiarity with government policy that helped me prove mala fides and secure a favourable order. Even in personal battles – such as a review regarding an honorarium where the Bench directed consideration of my representationI realized something profound. The judge does not just hear the Advocate; they hear the preparation behind the argument. These victories were not just legal wins; they were validations that the ‘student’ in me is still passing exams. As I approach 72, I am reminded of Rabindranath Tagore’s profound words: “I slept and dreamt that life was joy. I awoke and saw that life was service.
I acted and behold, service was joy.” From the humble start at 19 to the podiums of NPA, and now to the corridors of the Tribunal, the venue changes, but the intent remains the same. There is always “better than the best.” The search for that perfection is what keeps the fire alive. The innings continues.
(The writer retired as Director from the Government of India and is currently a practicing Advocate.)