Trust

Trust

In the Commercial Tax organization, heading a territorial range is a huge responsibility. In my service career incidentally, I was responsible for three territorial ranges on different occasions, apart from one Intelligence range. The Range is a team work. You swim or sink together. Fortunately, on all occasions I had efficient and dedicated Officers. Although I draw up the strategy for resource mobilization and grey area surveillance, yet the planning was always open to suggestions. The officers carry out my instructions in letter and spirit. I remember I had engaged officers, including lady officers on round the week mobile operation and they carried out the operation meticulously-even on Sundays. That resulted in substantial generation of additional tax revenue.

It is the trust that worked.

Consequently, we were not in a position to enjoy weekends because the telephone never ceased ringing which upsets my wife. She very often sarcastically comments,’ I did not know, you have an office at home with a slave who cooks, feeds and attends twenty four seven’. On such occasions I offer the sweetest smile indicating abject surrender to the home ministry. She understands my trick and disapproves the cheating with the traditional twisting of lips as only a woman can do.

In my last posting in the commercial tax wing I was entrusted with the tax administration of the prime range of the state. The head of the department very often visits this range because of its importance. On one occasion he felt dissatisfied with the performance of the junior most field level officers and started dictating show cause notices for suspension. I politely interrupted him by saying,’ Sir, in stead of taking action against them, kindly initiate proceeding to suspend me. I am the team leader. If there is any lapse I own it as my own’. He did not agree but I persuaded. Finally he conceded to drop the idea but with a rider for substantial improvement of the position. Surprisingly, during the review meeting by the Minister, he did not allow me to speak but started praising our efforts and performance.

It is again that trust that won.

I always try to lend my helping hand whenever my colleagues needed the most and they trust me in return. It builds up a beautiful chemistry that ensures devotion to work. But this emotional attachment is painful when I leave.

I believe life moves on and on because of this trust. In the childhood, the children trusted their parents as their teachers. In the formative years our parents trusted us which prevents us from going astray. In the adult years it is the mutual trust that runs the family. We have to trust someone or something to drive us forward.

I remember the poem "I grow old ... I grow old

                                      I shall wear the bottom of my trouser rolled"

Although so far I have not  measured out my life with a coffee spoon, yet I believe in my old age I have to trust the veritable dynamite that I call wife. Would she trust me in return?