By : FAIZAAN BASHIR
“Discipline is not a class privilege,” he said. That line stayed with me. History dies, they say. But I refuse to admit it. Every time I see an official silently play a superiority card, folks trudging from block to block for a simple approval, or worse, getting stuck in nagging traffic jams, I look back. And I lament what could have been achieved if things continued the way they were during his tenure as IGP traffic.
The year was 2018. His name floated through the air like dust—soft and persistent. A maverick as IG traffic, often spotted without a uniform, arrived at Dal Lake. ‘He doesn’t see if you are a son of some well-known, powerful businessman, a laid-back politician, or a dear chum. You are bad at the road; you are punished for that—with a fine, vehicle seizure, or a slap. Simple funda,’ social media read then.
What mattered was traffic, order, and public responsibility. The name Basant stayed. Call it fame or infamy, but it left an impression. Pacing forward to examine the traffic (mis)management, shouting commands, and penalizing the transgressors, among others: an aura that later vanished into the thin air as quickly as it had arrived.
He came, he worked, and he left—for reasons still unclear. Slithering into the annals of recent history—almost forgotten now.
Some appreciated him; others responded with a twinge of sourness and hatred for him. Either way, he didn’t listen. This not listening, not bending, and not conforming proved costly in the end. Eventually, he quit.
Who else of IG rank mocks his own senior? The last straw. A mystery that still lingers. Madness touched heights when he persistently didn’t relent even though he was suspended from his services. In the middle of crises, he would be seen speaking of cricket metaphors and public responsibility. One was astounded by the level of esoteric tendencies he had in him. Twit or dim, he wasn’t. Sound and sharp, he was. Still, many wondered what exactly pushed him over the edge.
Stepping into a bog, he dug his own grave. Even though he was honest, direct, driven, and responsible, he rushed. He went to and fro, sideways, up and down, losing the ground, which could have become the place of civic revolution now. Firstly, he got shunted to the home guards, suspended multiple times, and then he prematurely retired.
Was he right or wrong? These are broader questions, laced with puzzled philosophy, deep-seated context, and personal interpretation. Some of the actions bewildered the public, like his focus on cricket analogies. Still, he was unwavering in some principles. Take his initiative to distribute books and gadgets to the deserving students. That, too, had a strict procedure: you had to write a crisp and well-articulated email to qualify. ‘No personal sob stories or emotional appeals.’ Perhaps passively teaching a subtle lesson in clarity and merit over sentiment.
His likeness for the ghazals of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and singing, dancing, and cheering to them painted a picture of someone joyous and irreverent, unfit for the rigidity of the bureaucratic system.
His short tenure as IG traffic seemed to be a desperate shot at bringing civic reforms to Kashmir. But politics, resistance, and perhaps misunderstanding cut it short. The most unfortunate thing? He got entangled in things we may never understand. That’s unfortunate!
Today, not much has changed. Traffic remains chaotic. Pedestrian safety is often an afterthought: hardly any zebra crossings and care. No F given. That’s a tragedy for average folks like me who simply walk.
Queues at the government hospital frustrate some. Attendants accompanying their patients battling terminal diseases at SKIMS Soura have to go up and down and in and out of the hospital to get the medicines under the Golden Card. It takes more than an hour, which is again depressing.
While drug busts are commendable, the bigger question remains how banned substances still reach the hapless and helpless youth. The supply chain seems unbroken. The rot just remains.
Maybe someone with a fire like Basant’s is still needed. Maybe his way of dealing with things—unorthodox approaches—and drive for results could catalyze change, like it did once in traffic management. His methods might have disrupted systems but also showed promise.
What he did disappeared in the haze of power play and politics. Yet, the thought lingers: could someone like him lead again? Effective. Precise. Calculated. But with less rage, insanity, and recklessness.
Author is PG History and an independent researcher.
