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SAM CLUB DAY ‘16

Lambs to the Slaughter

- Deepak Sapra '92

Parth – the current editor of SAM, made an impassioned plea on a Whatsapp chat. It's his swansong as SAM
editor, and he would get into proba on before the next issue of SAM comes out. So he wanted me to write for
this issue.
th
So, here is to you, Parth, and to everyone ge ng into proba on. It's from my diary of the 5 of October, 1998 –
the day our batch a ended the CME interview for pos ng, at the culmina on of our proba onary training. It will
give you an idea of how great proba on is.
It's a drama zed version, and I hope it will leave the readers with a smile.
And before I start, the disclaimer – this is not a work of fic on.
*
th
5 October, 1998, Eastern Railway, Calcu a
“All the best,” said Shivendra.

“Thanks,” I replied, nervously. I just wanted it to get over. I was unsure and apprehensive.
It was one-and-a-half years from the day we had commenced our proba onary training as IRSME officers. It was
one-and-half years from the day I had taken the Rajdhani Express from Baroda to Ratlam for the sole purpose of
ge ng away from the Railway Staff College (now NAIR) food, in order to have dinner on the train.

From those heady days, here we were, the SCRA 1992 batch. On the last day of proba on. Now seated outside
the Chief Mechanical Engineer's office at the Eastern Railway Headquarters in Calcu a.
I was awai ng my turn for the CME interview. This interview was a final assessment of the one-and-half years of
training, and was believed to be tough and grueling. To make ma ers more complex, I was allo ed Eastern

Railway. The fear of pos ng was just as big as the fear of failing the interview.
Eastern railway (then undivided, had divisions of what is now East Central Railway) had several weird places
where an Assistant Mechanical Engineer could get posted to. Some of these places were such that even on the
railways, no one had heard of them.

Barkakhana, Barwadih and Patratu were three such.
Some of my seniors had warned- “Ge ng posted to these places is like being banished to a jungle”. In some of
these areas, naxalites were very ac ve. They had even kidnapped a railway officer some years ago.
Today, a er one-and-half years of flying on Indian railways, flaun ng my Duty card pass which said, “Anywhere

to Anywhere”, I was ge ng the feeling that my wings were about to be cut. No ma er where the pos ng, it
would be ONE PLACE. Flying as a free bird in proba on had been full of the thrills of travelling and the joys of
exploring. Now, banishment to one place was staring me in the face. The most glorious period of railway life was
about to come to an end, sacrificed at the altar of a place like Barwadih or Barkakhana.

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