Journalism of Courage
I was about five years old in the police force,defiant about my choice of career and literally deaf to the unkind barbs of my batchmates who occasionally questioned my presence in their esteemed profession. Most however kept quiet,sure that I would soon regret my decision soon. Civil services seemed a good career,and having shifted from the Indian Audits and Accounts Service (IA&AS) after realising that I wasn’t meant for accounts,I had no mind to shift gears again.
With my keen desire to learn and the help of surprisingly supportive staff at Nashik,I would fend my way through the language barriers to understand the intricacies of policing. To the credit of grey-haired Head Constables,they would keep their reservations to themselves and willingly share their knowledge with me. At Kolhapur,where I got posted subsequently,the staff was more adventurous. They would take me along for various raids against gambling and illicit liquor. Though I was supposed to be leading the team,I was still in learning mode. I was friends with the wife of a senior officer. She wanted me to fare well in life but she wondered how I would manage a career and family. Being a police officers wife,she knew all about the odd timings and extensive travelling that an Assistant Superintendents life entails. This,she felt,could be detrimental to my new married life. Thus I hid the fact that I was expecting my first child,until one evening when she wondered aloud if “there was any good news”!
In the 80s,an expectant woman was supposed to sit at home and not venture into a career,least of all the police force. Only women in financial need were supposed to work,while the ones from “good families” were to get married and live happily thereafter. Somehow these concepts did not gel with me. I had a second child as well and would opt for soft postings when the kids were small. The department did not have any problem with me and I got used to some eyebrows being raised once a while.
In the early 90s,reservations for women in the state of Maharashtra came into both government and local bodies. The visibility of women started increasing slowly and steadily. Twenty years down the line,the office of the Commissioner of Police Pune is a healthy place where smart and confident women constables and officers walk down the corridors with ease,probably not realising how comfortable it is for their Commissioner of Police to have them around. About four years back,a colleague gave them a choice of a western dress with neck ties in the section that deals with foreigners. How smart they look! It makes me so proud to see them go about their work so efficiently,with their hair tied in neat knots.
What takes the cake though is the talk by staff members on the day of their retirement. Every last working day of the month,a special function is held to bid farewell to those who are hanging up their boots. They talk about their children,their studies and career. It’s rare to find one who hasn’t graduated. The pride with which they introduce their daughters and the confidence with which the daughters accompany their retiring parents is a treat to watch. If a constable is ambitious for his daughter and invests financially and emotionally in her studies,he shall definitely understand the ethos of a changing India. Girls and women are striving for equality and raising their voice against all kinds of violence. It may take some more time,but the daughters shall change the country because they have changed the family. Amen.
