One day,
Sanjay Mishra—one of my former students from the 1988 batch of Navanagar
Engineering College—walked into my cabin. I recognized him instantly. Hailing
from a town near Gorakhpur in Uttar Pradesh, Sanjay had once gifted me a rare
Rudraksha from Nepal—a gesture that spoke volumes of his respect and affection.
After
completing his engineering studies, he went on to serve with the Delhi Metro.
Years passed, but the bond remained quietly intact.
Two
decades later, while visiting an industry in Jalgaon for work, he happened to
glance at a Test Report and recognized my signature on it. Overwhelmed by
nostalgia, he came to meet me. “Sir,” he said, “I had preserved journals
bearing your signature for years. But during our home renovation, they got
misplaced—perhaps even discarded under my wife’s insistence!” Despite that
loss, his visit filled me with joy. He described the unique traits of my
signature—traits I was already aware of.
That
encounter stirred a deep reflection within me. It’s time I write about my
signature.
Just as
everyone cherishes their own signature, I too hold mine dear. It is an
extension of my personality. Long before my graphologist friend described its
nuances, I had already developed my own style. And I continue to sign—with
grace!
In 2015,
following the affirmation of a landmark Bombay High Court judgment by the
Hon’ble Supreme Court, Contractual Lecturers serving in Government Polytechnics
were granted regular appointments—without having to undergo the Maharashtra
Public Service Commission (MPSC) selection process. It marked a historic moment
not only for the Technical Education Department but for the state of
Maharashtra itself.
As soon
as the judgment was communicated through the Directorate of Technical
Education, I promptly called for the service records of Lecturers serving at
Government Polytechnic, Jalgaon, and initiated the process of pay
regularization in accordance with the ruling. I discussed the matter with Mr.
Sanjay Upasani from the accounts department—a colleague known for his positive
outlook and collaborative spirit. Our office staff worked with wartime urgency
to finalize the Pay Fixation Orders. And I signed each one with grace. Every
signature gave me energy.
Though
many others—perhaps more deserving than I—could have held such positions, I
remain deeply grateful for the opportunity to serve. I’ve always believed that
the chance to contribute to public welfare is a rare privilege. That belief
guided my signature. I signed with a sense of duty. I signed for myself—to
elevate my Self Image.
In
personality development and workplace culture training programs, I often spoke
to students and colleagues about “Self Image.” But mere words weren’t enough.
They had to see it, feel it. Only then would the training be truly impactful.
So I signed!
In a
democratic welfare state, certain positions are created to fulfill public
responsibilities. These roles come with duties, and to fulfill them, authority
is granted. Those who serve in such roles are called “Officers.” And Officers
exercise their authority—often through their signature. I understood this well.
So I signed!
I
believe successful individuals sign with joy and enthusiasm. Perhaps that’s why
they succeed. So I signed!
And I
signed once more—on a very special day.
On April
28, 2019, my daughter’s wedding was held in Pune. Though I was on leave, as the
Drawing and Disbursing Officer (DDO), my signature was required on the salary
statements. To ensure timely disbursement of salaries to staff and officers, I
had the documents sent from Jalgaon. Amidst the wedding celebrations, at 11 PM,
I stepped down from the stage and signed—so that May 1, Maharashtra Day and
International Workers’ Day, could be celebrated with joy! So I signed! Signed
with deep satisfaction !
And then
there was another moment—quiet, profound, and deeply personal.
After
the sad demise of Shri Shaligram Patil, a long-serving employee at our
institution, his wife approached me with a family pension case riddled with
administrative hurdles. There was no precedent for such a situation. The nominee
name mentioned in the pension order from AG Office did not match her official
documents. The treasury office had no solution. But I knew Patil. He had served
this institution with quiet dignity for decades. I consciously took a decision.
I endorsed the affidavit submitted by his wife, affirming her rightful
claim—and I signed. That signature was not just ink on paper. It was a tribute.
I signed it with gratitude.
(Engineering Heart Beats, Publishing in Oct, 2025)
