‘You’re the most unlike babu I have met,’ I told Rupinder Brar who has been working for the Indian federal government for a good 30 years with distinction, and is currently the additional secretary in the Ministry of Coal. ‘I will take it as a compliment,’ she retorts and forces a smile.
Rupinder has endearing qualities; she’s open to experimenting, smart, articulate, and has a great screen presence, doesn’t wear her position as a batch of honour, easy going and friendly, and insists on being addressed by her first name. She has multiple things to deal with, but never seems to be in a hurry. ‘I’m busy these days,’ she says very calmly.
She’s a benign rebel, follows her mind. Empowerment has made her humble and open to suggestions, including that she might be wrong—howsoever fervently she may believe in a thing or despite having made up her mind—and that there might be a better way to do a thing as suggested by others. Reminds me of what Bertrand Russell famously said, ‘I would never die for my beliefs because I might be wrong.’ Rupinder puts it differently, ‘I learnt to disagree with my own self.’ This can only come from a position of strength of a secure leader.
You look at her, in her space, office or home, and you get to know she’s in control. The government offices have a quintessential character, which is lack of any character. Her chamber, for a change, is her space personified. There’s greenery and artefacts, the table rearranged to give a sense of space, a good space to work in, and is indicative of the way she operates.
And that she has an artistic side to her laced with spirituality, only helps. She takes Indian classical vocal music classes, also a tarot card reader. An internationalist who is proud of her heritage. Her curiosity takes her to the ‘esoteric’ quests. She is a ‘Shiva bhakta’ and her pursuit of truth took her to Singapore where she did her master’s in Public Administration. Awakening of the third eye is to be connected with intuitive wisdom, and is important for decision making, especially for a bureaucrat, or those in public life, for their actions, and inactions as well, have far-reaching consequences.
She celebrates her being in the way she carries herself. When I saw her at work, I felt a sense of satisfaction that the government is (wo)manned by the likes of Rupinder—though she’s one of a kind. A saree is her favourite outfit. Sarees are part of a rich tradition, intertwined in our culture that manifests variously.
This may seem personal but I like the kind of sarees she wears and in the way she drapes it. We had a conversation. ‘Saree is versatile,’ she says, and can be both a formal or a party attire just by holding the loose end differently. She wears it with consummate elegance in barely half a minute, and makes her feel ‘empowered and majestic,’ and in the present context, ‘it sets you apart.’ She suggested, on the same lines, men should wear dhoti to work. ‘I don’t know why they don’t do it—it’s the best dress,’ she’s a bit perplexed.
She has a life beyond work, the gift of the gab, a raconteuse. One day, sooner than later, she will write a book, eventually many books, and, more often than not, people like Rupinder make a good story themselves.
It has to be said loud and clear—being a generalist is a form of specialisation. Rupinder is primarily from the revenue department, but had a stint in tourism before she was sent to the coal ministry. She did well in all that was assigned to her, though, the sphere of activities can’t be more different.
A new person at a responsible position from a varied background is welcome, for, she in this case, brings new ideas, and is not bogged down by the endemic work culture and a long list of precedence, and a certain hackneyed way of thinking. She could think out of the box because she’s not boxed in her thinking, offered not just fresh perspective but also gave a new direction, a welcome change.
When Rupinder was due for a change, she insisted on being sent to a department where 'I don’t have to deal with numbers.' The government obliged. She was made the additional director general of tourism. Tourism has a great potential and much more needs to be done, and the real problem is that ‘we are spoilt for choice,’ she explains. There’s everything for everyone in India--native or foreigner, luxury or budget travellers—mountain, rivers, deserts, forest, flora and fauna, art and architecture, monuments, textiles, handicraft, and a rich philosophical tradition that's diverse yet talks of essential unity—the list is long.
Soon after she joined in 2019, she started the initiative Dekho Apna Desh (know/see your country) in all its diverse manifestations. Soon after the pandemic started, with it a period of uncertainty. Tourism was the worst affected as people stopped travelling. She resumed going to work after two weeks; lower-level officials would take turns to report for work. There was not much to do and sitting idle was not an option for her. She decided to use the technology and made Dekho Apna Desh initiative online.
All the stakeholders would get an opportunity to showcase the city, cuisine, textile, art and culture of the place they hail from in the webinar. There was no cost involved, people participated on their own volition. Rupinder anchored the sessions--would make many news anchors run for their money, it was not just about the screen presence but the ease with which she conducted the unscripted sessions, it was spontaneous and joyous.
The irony is not lost on me. The initiative went ‘viral’ in the times of the pandemic; and continued long after the pandemic was over. But not after she left the tourism ministry. Though, it remains one of the best ways to know India. Thanks to this experience, she is open to the idea of starting her own video blog.
She has a life beyond work, the gift of the gab, a raconteuse. One day, I hope, sooner than later, she will write a book, eventually many books, and, more often than not, people like Rupinder make a good story themselves. She’s a regular at the gym and watches what she eats, but she likes to party as well. She has maintained a right work—leisure, gym—party balance.
She has an elder brother, and she did not have freedom growing up commensurate with her brother, but, to her father’s credit, he made no gender distinction when it came to fending for oneself. When girls of her age in the extended family were getting hitched, she was looking to make a career. Thank God, she did!
A substantial part of her impressionable years in school were spent in Tanzania. It was a good learning curve, she grew up in multiracial environment and understood that human potential has little to do with race, or the colour of skin, good and bad are present in all society, ethnicities.
She talks emotively about how the various houses in her school, named after flowers, would compete to keep their classroom and surroundings clean; also, pupils were encouraged to farm. This was an essential part of education, to do real things, things that are for general good, and in the process, she understood the dignity of labour, and dynamics of teamwork, that there’s nothing bad or demeaning in sweeping the floor, or cleaning the window panes.
Contrary to popular perception, the government allows discretion, if one is willing to stick one’s neck out and take initiatives in good faith, and take responsibility for their actions. Rupinder is one such officer, not a fence-sitter but a trendsetter. Rupinder is intuitive and proactive and, it goes without saying, a woman of substance.
Comments