Remembering my Father: From Himalayan Border Village to UNHQ a story of Indian Police Officer who gave shape to world police!

More than 13 years ago on May 21, 2007 we lost my father, Shri Om Prakash Rathor, who belonged to premium Indian Police Service (IPS), as he departed for heaven. To this day it seems impossible that he has been gone 13 years. My memories of my dad are as fresh as yesterday. Now his grandson is 5 and half years old, and loves to hear tales of his grand dad. This has refreshed so many old narratives going all the way back to 70s when I was myself 5 years old. I still live by many principles he taught us. Don’t look at others, and focus on your own work was one. Today on Father's day a small tribute to my dad by sharing highlights of his many accomplishments.

He was born in lap of greater Himalayas, village Thangi in Himachal Pradesh ( ???? ??????? ?????? ?????? ) to my grandfather late Shri Permanand Rathor, and grand mother late Shrimati Kailash Devi. He soared in his career to scale to the highest rank for IPS as Director General of Police (DGP), a three star General. During this journey, on way, he scaled another monumental feat to be the first Indian to head UN police in New York. He served as police adviser to UN from 1995 to 2000 at UN head quarters in NY, and then other UN roles in Western Africa when he lead MINURSO mission's police forces in Morocco till 2002. Famed Mrs Kiran Bedi officiated in same UN police advisor role few years after him. He was mentioned in BBC, and CNN coverage those days as he rushed to troubled hot spots of world. Places like East Timor, Kosovo, Haiti, and many more were given semblance of order under his leadership. Even today google search by his name Om Rathor pulls some of those reports. Entire UN police system was set up by him in 90s. When East Timor was burning he was the first UN official to arrive, and take control of law and order in the Island. He was awarded the prestigious UN21 award in 1997 by Mr. Kofi Annan, the then Secretary General of the United Nations for bringing about unprecedented reform to UN functioning.

IPS officer rests his cap to don UN Blue beret, and looks over the world as we know it!

In his early career in 70s he chased bandits, and outlaws, so called Dacoits (Daaku) in Chambal belt in Central India, as he headed police force in Gwalior as Senior Superintendent of Police (SSP), and later as Deputy Inspector General (DIG). He did engage in many encounters involving gun fights as we recall often taking out thorns stuck to his uniform as 5 year old kids, and count would be in hundreds. He faced many life threatening situations but undeterred he went, and one such encounter got him Gallantry Medal from the President of India, the highest medal in police forces for gallantry. Apparently he had direct interchange with a dacoit gang who unfortunately lost their life in gun battle but not before my dad had to whiz through their shooting spree to curtail them. The account that was read when he got the medal in 1987 from the President, stated, bullets went whiz past by his head next to his ears, and shoulders as he fired back taking the fierce outlaw gang leader down. This then resulted in breaking up of other gang members, and closure of ransom seeking bandits who would abduct people, and loot villages in ravines of Chambal.

Another account that I recall is in 1980s of that when one police constable lost his mind. He with his machine gun killed 4 or 5 of his colleagues. One of them I knew well as he worked with us when we were very young in Chhindwara. Berserk cop had barricaded himself in the police station, and was shooting at anyone who approached. Once my dad arrived he summoned him by his name, and asked him to calm down. The cop came out with gun in his hand, and after some dialogue with my dad broke into tears. My dad walked straight to him, and gently took the gun away from his hand, whose barrel was still hot from indiscriminate firing he had undertaken. My dad’s driver later told us that they were all sweating in their pants when they saw my father walk straight to the angry cop looking in his eyes, and take away the weapon, and see the cop break in tears as he collapsed in my dad's arms.

Famous dacoits like Malkhan Singh, Madho Singh, and Phoolan Devi surrendered, and were housed in Central Indian (MP) jails under his watch. I remember Malkhan Singh’s surrender ceremony. In Jabalpur as SSP he ran a campaign to curb infamous acid attacks, and lead raids to confiscate illegal weapons. Due to relentless day, and night campaign on criminals between 1987 to 1989 he was compared to famous Punjab police chief Mr Ribeiro by local tabloids. We also enjoyed boat rides with him in famous Bhedaghat where holy river Narmada has carved deep gorge in marble rocks creating unique valley of marble rocks. At one point he was superintendent of railway police (SRP), and would go out for days combing the railway passengers security from Allahabad to Hoshangabad attaching the SRP Railway Saloon coach to one train after the other depending upon the need of the hour.

Well there is so much more to narrate about him like his days as Director General of Police (DGP) Chhattisgarh where he lost his life fighting Naxals. It was not exactly a bullet or blast that took his life but it was the toll of relentlessly working in hostile environment which meant he had no time for his health. One hot afternoon in May as he was going about his day addressing state civil servants graduating class in Raipur he collapsed with a massive heart attack never to rise again. This was a big setback in fight against red terrorism for India as Mr Vajpayee, former Prime Minister of India, and Mr Raj Nath Singh, then BJP President, and current Home Minister noted. When my dad returned from UN to India he was appointed DGP with Dr Raman Singh as first term CM with Mr Ramvichar Netam as states home minister. He was specially impressed by Mr Abdul Kalam the then President of India, and loved his interactions with India’s President. In past too he had the privilege of working with President Venkatraman in late 80s, and early 90s during his trips to Gwalior, and Jabalpur as Vice President, and President respectively. 

In Chhattisgarh one prominent state politician, and Rajya Sabha MP shared with me several incidents of being with him in remote parts of the state. Bastar, and Sarguja were hot beds of red terrorism. Bastar still is. He recollected that after one of the brutal Naxal attacks he went to the attack site in remote village with my father, and crowd got restless. They got agitated, and were about to get physical with the visiting politicians. My father as DGP used his whistle to control crowd, and organized police men to circle, and protect dignitaries. Upon his prompting right assurances were given to grief stricken villagers, and in police cordon group was safely escorted out. He felt it was really special to see DGP in action in that down to earth manner. How at one whistle police force got activated, and bad situation that could have gone worst was salvaged. He did bring fight to Naxals, and gave blows that weakened them considerably! North Chhattisgarh I recall became naxal free at that time. Salwa Judam campaign with all its merits, and shortcoming was pushed forward, and post his demise it did loose steam.

As SSP Sagar in 1981 Mr Arjun Singh the then Chief Minister (CM) of state was in town, and students at local university got agitated due to some reason. Stone pelting, and violent protests is what he had to face during his visit. When my dad came home his arms, and shoulders were badly bruised. One could see blue color and swelling in many spots. When we asked him he just brushed it aside as nothing. His security guard than told us when heavy stones came towards CM my dad put himself in between stones, and state's top politician who later became national level leader. He told us he could not let anyone get injured under his watch in a district he was in charge of law and order.

In Gwalior he worked closely with late Shree Madhav Rao Scindia and oversaw the election in which Mr. Scindia defeated Shree Vajpayee to be first term MP from Gwalior. As 8 year old we enjoyed all the election buzz. Then there were riots that came out of assassination of Indian Prime Minister, Mrs Indira Gandhi, when he lead from front, and center to safeguard the targeted community. We sheltered few families at our home. At peak of riot he went into riot hot spots to pull out at risk citizens, and drove off with them in his jeep amidst pelting of stones. It was due to great work of Gwalior police I believe there was only one or two fatalities in the district.

In all this I am certain he enjoyed his time as Deputy Inspector General (Brigadier General) of Indo Tibetan Border Police (ITBP) in Shimla a lot. This so as he always remembered Thangi, his home, and village throughout his life. During his time with ITBP he could visit Thangi and cherished each trip. He got the small shiv temple set up, and I remember going to look at it in 1990 or there about. He was looking forward to retire at some point, and spend more time in village. Alas God had other plans, and he never did. 

While in ITBP he was in charge of administration of the force at ITBP head quarters in Delhi. I went to St. Stephen's college in 1992/95 while he was there. Its then that he got selected to lead that years IPS officers team to attend command course at West Yorkshire Police Academy in UK. This was his first foreign assignment, and Mr Rajesh Pilot who was then Home Minister of India had picked him for this coveted leadership development course that is meant for senior IPS officers. While in Delhi we took several trips across India, and one special one was to Kaziranga National Park in Assam. He mingled with bunch of students from my college at ease, and as train rolled through Bihar we had to encounter some miscreants. He walked to our compartment, and with help of railway police brought order in the compartment.

He overcame the 1950s, and 1960s hurdles that Thangians of today’s generation may not know, and told us stories of days long trek to his school in Peo which then burned down, and increased the journey by few more days to Sarahan! He told me, and my brother Mr. Abhishek Rathor how he, and his friend got chased by a bear, and their zig saw run to escape. How the ghee, and butter of Thangi tasted fresh on his tongue, and Rajma (Kidney Beans) that my I (grandmother) made. 

There were no roads then, and it snows there in winters sometimes several feet, and blocks the region from rest of the world for days, and months. As young student he tracked through these perils, and hiked including crossing mighty Satluj river clinging to rope bridges, and hand pushed rope trolleys. These trolleys could seat one person with feet dangling, and Himalayan river below fuming in its glory over rocks barreling down south. I know as when I was perhaps 4 years old I went to Thangi, and crossed that river on my fathers lap. It was one scary site. One look down, and my cries could be heard both sides of the bank.

He came out of this, and ended up in Shimla for his college. He earned Gold Medal from Punjab University for topping the state in Political Science MA. This is when he met my mother who studied with him. My maternal grand father who was in charge of tourism was super impressed by him. When my grandfather asked for his daughters hand my maternal grandfather was only too happy. I remember hearing from him the moment he saw my Dad he knew this boy was destined to do great things, and that his daughter will be in good hands. Well before they got married my dad got his first job as lecturer, and was posted in college located in Kullu. Kullu also known as valley of Gods on banks of Beas river is a picturusque town in Himalayas which is also my mothers home. While in Kullu the first day when he went to teach I am told many girls thought he was a student, and that too a handsome one. There was excitement on campus for this new student. However when new student ended up on podium taking classes as their lecturer there were many hearts broken, and when they realized he was already engaged one can only imagine their dismay.

He then appeared in what is known as most difficult exam of India where millions appear, and only few dozen get selected. The Union Public Service Commission Exam which each year selects top roughly 200 out of thousands if not millions of candidates after three elimination rounds to govern the country as IFS, IAS, & IPS officers. Indian Foreign Service (IFS) used to take top 15 followed by Indian Administrative Services (IAS) with about 100 and then Indian Police Service comprised of about 80/85. He made to IPS in his first attempt. There are many more elite services that follow after IPS such as Indian Railway Service, Indian Audits and Accounts Service, Indian Forest Service among others.

In 1973/74 Mt. Abu, Rajasthan housed the IPS academy of the country which is now based in Hyderabad. As he went through a year long rigorous training which involved riding horses, climbing rocks, studying Indian Penal Code, physical training, and code of conduct, I was born around 4 AM on April 16. My mother recollects my dad had left in evening with my maternal grand mother with her for a round of night training. When I was born he was apparently climbing a rock as part of his training. When he arrived at hospital he did not know that for rest of his life, and beyond the story of him missing my birth was going to stick with him. Doctors had told him that baby wont be born that night was his explanation. 40 years later when Auggie was born I made sure I did not leave Trishla's side even for a second, and Auggie did take his sweet time to come out.

Today on father’s day as we remember him I have fond memories, and lot of what I do is inspired by him. When he left us in May 2007, there was no Facebook, no iPhone, and cant remember LinkedIn. I look forward to keep narrating action packed stories of his grandfather to Augadh (Auggie) Om Rathor which he loves to hear with excitement. However one message to all youngsters that I share today is that no matter what your situation you can rise, and rise high with shear hardwork, determination, and perseverance. Each episode here has a message.

Happy Father's Day!