The High Command

Back in 1993-94, when I was the Assistant Commissioner (AC) of the Mangalore sub-division, I received a letter mysteriously addressed to the “High Command, New Delhi.” This letter had been forwarded to me from the office of the President of India, New Delhi. It was a petition written by James D’Souza (name changed) from a small village in Mangalore Taluk.

Typically, when a petition is written to either the Prime Minister or the President of India, it is sent to the Chief Secretary of the concerned state for action, who then forwards it to the Deputy Commissioner (DC) of the relevant district if it pertains to land disputes. The DC passes it to the AC, who sends it to the Tahsildar. The Tahsildar then sends it to the Revenue Inspector, who finally forwards it to the Village Accountant. Ironically, a petition written by someone in a village travels for months between Delhi, Bengaluru, district, and taluk offices, only to come back to the same village.

However, this particular petition wasn't even addressed to the President of India. It was addressed to the “High Command, New Delhi.” I wondered how a letter addressed to the High Command ended up in the office of the President of India. The letter I received had the envelope pinned to it, a practice sometimes followed in the government, should the envelope be needed for an inquiry. The envelope only had this address: “The High Command, New Delhi.” I marvelled at the resourcefulness of the New Delhi post office in deciding to send the letter to the President of India!

As a young AC enthusiastic about my first job after joining the IAS, I didn't want to push the petition down the routine bureaucratic channel. I read the petition, which was a complaint against the village accountant. I saw no point in sending it to the same village accountant for inquiry—he couldn’t be expected to investigate his own misdeeds, if any. So, I decided to visit Mr D’Souza myself. I took the Tahsildar of Mangalore and travelled to the village.

On reaching the village, my conversation with Mr D’Souza went something like this:

“Mr D’Souza, you have sent a petition to the President of India. What is your grievance?”

“My wife has been cheated out of her land by powerful people; you have to get the sale cancelled.”

I turned to his wife. She explained that the land was in her name and she sold it after consulting with the family because they needed the money, and there was nothing suspicious about the deal. Mr. D’Souza didn’t like that his wife had decided to sell the land, but there was nothing anyone could do about it. I tried to explain to Mr. D’Souza that his wife and the rest of the family had supported the deal and that the land was her property, inherited from her father.

Mr D’Souza was not convinced. He told me grandly, “Neevu yenta maaduvudu beda. Nanu High Command ge bardiddene. Avaru parihara kodtaare.” (You don’t worry about it. I have written to the High Command, and they will solve the problem!)