States: Orissa; Near and Dear

India Today
Nov 16,1998

ORISSA
Near and Dear

With spouses and relatives of top politicians and bureaucrats staying put in the cities, it is the lot of less connected government teachers to serve in the outback.

By Ruben Banerjee

For the past 10 years B.K. Panigrahi, a reader in chemistry at the Bhawanipatna Government College in Orissa's Kalahandi district, has been seeking a transfer to a college in the state capital Bhubaneswar. One reason for that was Panigrahi wanted to escape Kalahandi's infamous poverty and deprivation. The more compelling one perhaps is that like any family man he is eager to get back to his hometown. Orissa government rules say teachers and academics like Panigrahi can be transferred every three to six years. But so far all his efforts have come to nought.

But take Bijaya Mishra, on the other hand. A reader in physics at the R.D. Women's College in Bhubaneswar, she lives in a ministerial bungalow in one of the state capital's more tony areas. But that is because she is the wife of state Chief Secretary S.B. Mishra. It is also this connection which has ensured that Bijaya has for the past 19 years worked in colleges at Bhubaneswar and Cuttack, barring an interregnum of five years when she was on a fellowship. She is fortunate because she has always managed to avoid a posting to the state's outback.

If Panigrahi cannot get a long-awaited transfer to his hometown it is because there are too many like Bijaya who seldom play by the rules. Some are spouses of high-profile bureaucrats, while the others are wives of powerful police officers and close relatives of top state politicians. In Orissa such relationships evidently take precedence over merit and norms. While those who have no benefactors either in politics or the bureaucracy routinely get tossed from one corner of the state to another, the well-connected manage to stay put in Bhubaneswar or Cuttack for years together. In some cases for even decades, flouting all rules. Says Abani Boral of the All Orissa Federation of Teachers' Organisations: "The better halves are certainly better off among the government college teachers."

Bhubaneswar has three government run colleges -- R.D. Women's College, B.J.B. College and Rajdhani College. A quick check of the faculties of these institutions would give the impression that these have been specially set up to provide employment to a privileged few: the teachers are invariably spouses or relatives of bureaucrats and politicians. At last count, there were as many as 30 teachers related to ias and ips officers working in the city's colleges. The postings are so brazen that even Higher Education Minister Bhagabat Prasad Mohanty is outraged: "It's a scam," he declares. "Given their high connections, I'm helpless."

The examples are numerous. Anima Mishra, a reader in English at the R.D. Women's College, is the wife of former minister Sarat Kar. That perhaps explains why she has not moved out of Cuttack and Bhubaneswar since 1977. Shree Mishra, a reader in physics at the same college, is the wife of state Forests Secretary Srinivas Rath. For 19 years she has served in colleges in Bhubaneswar and Cuttack, barely 20 km from each other. Arundhati Mishra, wife of Revenue Secretary Jugal Mohapatra, has been a lecturer at B.J.B. College since 1987. Kasturi Chotray, a reader at the R.D. Women's College, is the wife of Gauri Shankar Mishra, the chief secretary's brother, and has alternated between Bhubaneswar and Cuttack since 1981.

The influential obviously know how to bend the mandatory transfer rules. So while teachers who don't have benefactors are sent to far-flung places, the privileged get transferred to places of their choice for the sake of record. When Rita Tripathy, wife of state Commercial Tax Commissioner Gokul Pati, was due for a transfer in 1991, she opted for the easiest route: from B.J.B. College's morning section to the day college where she continues till date. Anima is another glaring case. From B.J.B. she moved to R.D., then to Sailobala Women's College in Cuttack and back to R.D. Says a lecturer: "They do get transferred but never have to face transfer traumas."

Often, faced with a transfer, the top-shots manage to take their spouses along, if only to ensure marital bliss. Some years ago state Irrigation Secretary R.N. Senapati was transferred to Koraput as district collector. His wife Bandana was then a home science teacher at the R.D. Women's College. Senapati wanted to take his wife along but there was a hitch: the only government college in Koraput did not have a home science department. No problem there. A home science faculty was quickly set up in the college and Bandana got down to work. Senapati is now back in Bhubaneswar and so is Bandana. As for prospective home science students in Koraput, they will perhaps have to wait for the next conjugal transfer.

Equally innovative was senior ias officer D.N. Padhi. Some years ago he was posted to Delhi as Orissa's resident commissioner. Alarmed presumably at the thought of having to live away from his wife and family, he got wife Deepa posted as "education officer" at the Orissa Bhavan in Delhi. But now that Padhi is back in Bhubaneswar as state tourism commissioner, Deepa is in tow, as a reader in philosophy at the R.D. Women's College.

"Bureaucrat couples must be really in love as they seem unable to live without each other," says a teacher, who has been posted to all corners of the state. When Narendra Mishra, an ias officer, was posted to Sambalpur as the district collector, his wife Kanak Manjari, a reader in economics in the B.J.B. College morning section, too was posted to Sambalpur. Similarly, when Uma Shankar Mishra, igp, vigilance, went on deputation to the cbi in Delhi, his wife Gayatri got a posting as Coal India's liaison officer in the capital.

Such privileged government teachers are the envy of their less fortunate colleagues. Take State Health Minister Jagannath Rout's nephew Rajnikanta Samal. A reader in Cuttack's Ravenshaw College for many years, he was transferred to distant Bolangir in 1995. But his uncle ensured that the transfer was stalled. When his transfer order was issued a year later, the uncle, by now a senior cabinet minister, got it stopped again. But when the order came around a third time last year, the uncle finally put his foot down. He got Minister for Mass Education Jaydev Jena to specifically put in a request that Samal be posted to the Mass Education Department. Though the prevalent practice is for a department to suggest a panel of names from which a final selection is made, Chief Minister J.B. Patnaik found nothing unusual in the request for a specific officer. He quietly acquiesced and Samal continues to remain in Bhubaneswar as the deputy director, schools.

Similarly, Ratnakar Chaini, a reader in Oriya at Ravenshaw, has been served with transfer orders thrice. Each time it has been cancelled on some pretext or the other. This year too was no different. The moment his transfer file began to take shape, Chaini sent a representation saying that he be allowed to remain in Cuttack since he was compiling an Oriya encyclopaedia. Patnaik readily agreed. "Rohuntu (Hold on)," he ordered the higher education minister. Chaini is still reigning supreme at Ravenshaw for the 16th year on a trot. With directives coming from as high as the chief minister's office, it is no wonder that a coterie of teachers are scoring over others during the transfer season.

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