The recent bulldozer action against unauthorized constructions in Bengal brought back an old memory from my BHEL Bhopal days in 2002, when I was serving as Executive Director. In those days, BHEL township was not merely a colony—it was practically a parallel civilization.
Spread over hectares of land, it was originally built for around 22,000 employees. By the time I took charge, the employee strength had come down to nearly 10,000. As a result, many quarters stood vacant like retired soldiers waiting for fresh orders.
The township had everything imaginable—11 company-run schools, a 100-bed hospital, four shopping complexes, and religious establishments of almost every possible faith and denomination. There were Jain temples of two sects, a Kalibari maintained passionately by Bengalis, a mosque, a church, an Ayyappa temple, and even a Radhaswami congregation area.
In short, if a man was born, educated, married, spiritually uplifted, medically treated, and finally retired within BHEL township, nobody would find it unusual.
But like every Indian township, modernity arrived in its own peculiar form—slums.
Right opposite the foundry gate stood a large slum of more than 200 shanties. Now, this was not merely an aesthetic issue. Those were the days when terrorist activities were making headlines regularly, and the Defence Ministry had already flagged the settlement as a security concern because of its proximity to the factory.
The warning had been issued before I took over, but like many official warnings in India, it had achieved peaceful coexistence with dusty files.
When the matter came to my notice, I contacted the then Principal Secretary of Urban Development, Mr. Raghav Chandra, a dynamic IAS officer with the rare ability to move files faster than glaciers. He agreed to help immediately—but with one condition.
“Samar babu,” he said in his calm bureaucratic style, “give us a patch of vacant land at the outskirts of your township.”
Now this was what management books call a win-win solution. We had unused land. The government had rehabilitation funds. The slum dwellers needed homes. Everybody could emerge happy without television debates.
So the land was officially transferred to the Madhya Pradesh Government. Using available government funds, small houses were constructed for the displaced families. BHEL agreed to provide electricity and water connections on a metered basis.
Then came the human side of the operation.
I sought help from late Babulal Gaur, the veteran political leader known for his practical wisdom and earthy communication skills. He negotiated patiently with the residents. From BHEL side, our Town Administrator, A.K. Bhattacharya, coordinated the ground activities with military precision and Bengali patience—an uncommon but effective combination.
We even provided trucks to help families move to their new homes. There was no drama, no resistance, no stone throwing, no television microphones screaming “exclusive visuals.”
The entire relocation happened peacefully.
After the area was cleared, the vacated land was converted into a garden. A ceremonial tree plantation was organized, and I planted a sapling there with all the seriousness of a man inaugurating a new chapter in urban management.
But the real surprise came a few days later.
I suddenly noticed that stray dog population inside the factory had increased dramatically.
I asked one of the staff members, “What happened? Have the dogs also received transfer orders?”
The reply came instantly:
“Sir, these dogs belonged to that slum. The people shifted… the dogs did not.”
For a moment I imagined the dogs holding an emergency meeting: “Humans have betrayed us. Occupy the factory premises immediately.”
Looking back today, I feel the entire episode taught me something important. Removing unauthorized settlements by force alone may clear land, but it rarely clears resentment. The real solution lies in rehabilitation with dignity, coordination between government agencies, and treating people as stakeholders rather than obstacles.
Bulldozers can demolish structures quickly. Trust takes a little longer to build.
