31. Disaster Management
Entering the Cabinet Meeting
As Secretary of Cottage Industries, I occasionally attended meetings of the Committee of Secretaries, but only a few senior officers were allowed into Cabinet meetings. However, when I received additional charge as Relief Commissioner, it was monsoon season, and the presence of the Relief Commissioner was mandatory in Cabinet meetings. Thus, I finally got the opportunity to attend.
At my first Cabinet meeting, our Additional Chief Secretary (Revenue), Jagdish Pandian, introduced me and briefly read out the weekly weather forecast and rainfall data he usually presented. I simply observed that day—looking at how officers sat on one side, ministers on the other, and thinking about where I would fit in and how I would speak the next Wednesday.
Back in the office, I sat in my small chamber in Block No. 2’s basement, which housed the Relief Commissioner’s office — a modest setup with a Deputy Collector, a Mamlatdar, two Deputy Mamlatdars, and two or three clerks. Most were officers who either couldn’t adjust in field postings or had requested a transfer to Gandhinagar. They knew little of computers or modern technology but had a good idea of where solar phones and emergency kits were kept.
When floods came, they would pull out the list of swimmers; when drought struck, they would pull out relief manuals. It was the same stereotyped, monotonous routine, with little enthusiasm. It was clear that my first job was to breathe new life into this department.
Revamping the Rainfall Bulletin
I glanced at the daily rainfall bulletin—a long table of districts in alphabetical order, showing the last 24 hours’ rainfall and cumulative totals. Few understood how to interpret it; most just scanned their own district’s figures and set it aside.
I decided to transform the format.
Rainfall varied drastically across Gujarat—from 3,000 mm in Valsad to just 300 mm in Kutch. So, I divided the state into five zones based on rainfall averages: Kutch, North Gujarat, Saurashtra, Central Gujarat, South Gujarat.
I included last year’s data and long-term averages for each taluka, district, and zone, and presented a living, analytical bulletin instead of a raw table of numbers.
Once the press received our new format, the quality of reporting improved, and readers began to take genuine interest in weather updates.
Every Tuesday, we held meetings with the secretaries and heads of departments of key ministries, keeping everyone alert and updated on disaster preparedness and relief measures.
Wednesday Afternoon
Then came my first Wednesday Cabinet meeting.
I invoked Goddess Saraswati, entered the Cabinet room without a script, and waited for my turn after the routine agenda was over—which usually took only a few minutes.
Then it was my turn.
For fifteen minutes, I spoke on the state’s rainfall condition, weather forecasts, reservoir storage levels, and crop sowing progress. When I finished, the Chief Minister smiled and said,
“Aaj ka bulletin yahan samaapt hua.”
(“Today’s bulletin concludes here.”)
He noted the new rainfall bulletin and praised the clarity and presentation.
And from that day onward — the rest was history.
The “Rain Prophet”
I began studying the Narada Samhita, analyzing rainfall data from past years, and combining it with astrological insights based on planetary movements and constellations. Alongside the official meteorological forecast, I started presenting my own Gujarati-style rainfall predictions in poetic, traditional language.
Soon, during the monsoon, the Cabinet began looking forward to my weather briefings — they had become the highlight of the Wednesday sessions.
From Routine to Dynamic
Monsoon season meant lightning, floods, human and livestock casualties, evacuation of people, and arranging relief camps. We had to keep the administration alert, coordinate with NDRF and central agencies, and ensure preparedness to mitigate potential losses before disasters struck.
The once dull, passive post of Relief Commissioner now became exciting and impactful — and my briefings in the Cabinet were widely appreciated.
I had already experimented with mobile governance during my tenure at Gujarat State Road Transport Corporation (GSRTC), but here its scope and speed expanded dramatically.
Later, when my regular appointment as Relief Commissioner was confirmed, I formally left the Khadi Board in November 2011 — stepping fully into a role that had transformed from bureaucratic routine into a mission of public service and preparedness.
2012: The Drought Relief Year
The year 2012 was an election year, and the months of June and July passed by almost dry, with little to no rain. Everyone waited hopefully for September, and though the month finally brought showers, it was too late — while it eased the drinking water crisis, the crops had already failed.
A Central Government team, including Union Ministers Sharad Pawar and Jairam Ramesh, along with senior officers, visited Gujarat to assess the situation.
We were a small state delegation — I, Bavo, and Mangaldas.
None of us were fluent in English, and there was no existing format or reference for preparing a memorandum to the Centre. Frequent staff transfers meant there were no old copies available to refer to.
So, I personally sat at the computer, analyzed the data collected from various departments, and drafted the entire memorandum to be submitted to the Government of India. Later, in the presence of the Chief Minister and Union Agriculture Ministers, I presented it before the Central Team — earning their appreciation and credit points for Gujarat’s work.
When the new State Emergency Operations Centre (SEOC) building was ready, I ensured it became fully functional. Even today, the formats, reports, and management systems established under my tenure as Relief Commissioner have remained in use for over a decade — my lasting legacy in that office.
After the Central Team’s visit, one day, Kailasanathan, the Chief Minister’s Secretary, called me to his office. He said,
“The Chief Minister has asked me to convey his sorry. He feels an injustice was done to Punamchand and wants to make it right — you can choose the posting you wish.”
A rare gesture indeed.
At that time, I was serving as Relief Commissioner and Additional Chief Secretary (Disaster Management). I replied,
“If I am to be given a new posting, let it be within the Revenue Department. That way, I can continue relief work while also focusing on reforms in the revenue administration.”
But could Kailasanathan really grant such a request? That was uncertain.
Meanwhile, R.M. Patel, the Additional Chief Secretary (Panchayat), was nearing retirement. Having organized successful Garib Kalyan Melas, he was in the government’s good books. In September 2012, he successfully implemented Direct Benefit Transfers (DBT) — disbursing the first installment of the Sardar Awas Yojana to over 400,000 new beneficiaries.
The ruling party later nominated him as its Assembly candidate from Asarwa constituency for the December 2012 state elections. Two months before retirement, he took voluntary retirement (VRS), and the government assigned me additional charge of Panchayat, Rural Development, and Rural Housing Department, alongside Relief Commissioner.
I thought to myself, “Well, being back in the main administrative stream matters more.”
Having served nearly five years as District Development Officer (DDO) across three districts, I already had a deep connection with Panchayati Raj administration — it wasn’t something I could easily detach from.
Later, on May 1, 2013, postings were reshuffled again, and I was regularly appointed as Additional Chief Secretary (Panchayat, Rural Development & Rural Housing), while continuing with the additional charge of Relief Commissioner.
Kedarnath Disaster Management
That year, my work in Kedarnath disaster management made me well known.
In June 2013, heavy rains continued for more than a week in the mountains of Kedarnath. Pilgrims were moving toward the temple for darshan when, early one morning, a small lake named Chorabari Tal, located above the temple, suddenly burst. In just a few moments, it sent down a massive torrent of water, like a waterfall crashing down the slopes — millions of gallons of water destroying buildings and sweeping away over 6,000 people (6,054 casualties).
The flood lasted barely 40 minutes, but the destruction was unimaginable.
Those who were trapped were washed away, and many others who fled in panic toward the forests died due to cold and lack of oxygen while running through the mountains.
Nearly 300,000 pilgrims were stranded across the three dhams — Kedarnath, Badrinath, and Gangotri. It became urgent to rescue them safely and return them to their home states.
The Government of Gujarat appointed me as team leader, forming a team of IAS and GAS officers, doctors, and nurses to rescue Gujarati pilgrims and bring them home safely.
The Chief Minister personally took interest in the operation and requested Dr. Pranav Pandya at Shantikunj, Haridwar, to arrange primary facilities for our team.
After that, everything moved fast.
We immediately set up helpline numbers, publicized them widely, and began gathering information about stranded Gujarati pilgrims. Working in coordination with the Army, Air Force, paramilitary forces, and the Uttarakhand administration, we started locating and rescuing them to safe zones.
The uniformed forces rescued over 100,000 pilgrims from the flood-affected areas.
At that time, Subhash Kumar, a calm and kind man, was the Chief Secretary of Uttarakhand. Because of his gentle nature and the small size of the state cadre, his subordinates didn’t always act promptly.
The next day, the Chief Minister of Gujarat spoke with me over the phone, took full details of the situation, and decided to visit Kedarnath personally.
Once he arrived, the administration became far more active. Seeing reports on television praising the Gujarat team, the Uttarakhand authorities began to take the visit more seriously.
When the Chief Minister landed at Dehradun Airport, I briefed him in detail before he gave a press statement. Observing my preparation and arrangements, he remarked,
“You managed to organize all this in just 24 hours?”
We then boarded a helicopter from Dehradun to Kedarnath.
On one side sat the Chief Minister and his Secretary, Arvind Sharma, facing each other; on the opposite side sat former Uttarakhand Chief Minister B.C. Khanduri and I.
Due to space constraints, Jagdish Thakkar from the information department couldn’t join, so I ended up holding the video camera.
Sitting diagonally opposite the Chief Minister, I could capture his image, but not the mountains or scenery behind him. However, as Arvind repeatedly requested, I kept the camera focused on the CM — and soon the entire video memory was filled with that footage.
Over the helicopter’s loud noise, I once asked the Chief Minister,
“Is flying in a helicopter somewhat like experiencing what birds feel?”
He smiled and replied,
“You get a better feeling in paragliding.”
Watching Arvind Sharma and the Chief Minister talk closely, I observed their coordination — they conversed like two brothers. Whenever the pilot mentioned a Hanuman temple below, Arvind would fold his hands reverently. He had clearly learned his leader’s ways.
Had our helicopter landed in Kedarnath, it would have stirred political criticism — questions about safety, or why the CM risked flying in such bad weather. So, using the excuse of “adverse weather conditions,” the authorities denied permission to land near the temple complex.
We instead landed at Sonprayag, where an irrigation department guesthouse had arranged lunch. After the meal, we reboarded the helicopter and flew back to Dehradun for a scheduled meeting with the Uttarakhand Chief Minister.
At the airport, O.P. Singh, the Chief Minister’s aide, was waiting with a change of clothes, but since the meeting time had arrived, we went straight to the venue. The CM attended the meeting wearing corduroy trousers and a full-sleeve T-shirt — probably the only formal meeting he ever attended dressed that casually.
The Uttarakhand Chief Minister Ashok Bahuguna appeared defensive and dismissive of our CM’s proposals. When our Chief Minister suggested that Gujarat bear the cost of rebuilding the Kedarnath temple campus with better facilities and safety measures, Bahuguna flatly refused.
After inspecting local relief camps, our Chief Minister returned to Gandhinagar.
Having personally witnessed the disaster’s aftermath, he empowered me to hire private planes and helicopters for relief work as needed.
We set up a temporary field hospital staffed by our medical team.
They provided basic treatment to survivors and arranged to send seriously injured or cardiac and respiratory patients to Ahmedabad by air.
We also organized procedures so that families could easily claim and identify the bodies of the deceased.
Although I had the authority to charter aircraft, I used it judiciously.
Once the Kedarnath rescue and relief operations were completed, our team returned to Gujarat. The people of Gujarat deeply appreciated the government’s efforts to care for their relatives during the calamity.
Later, I presented a detailed analysis of the disaster management operations before the State Cabinet, and my report received high praise.
Two incidents from that period highlight the Chief Minister’s popularity and fearless nature.
At Dehradun, before boarding the helicopter, photographers crowded to take his pictures in a small waiting room. Later that morning, at Circuit House, a prominent woman leader came to meet him and advised him to be more cautious about his safety.
He simply replied,
“The word fear does not exist in my dictionary.”
He proved that statement true — leading Gujarat fearlessly in the following years, and later, the entire nation.
Media Sensitivity
My tenure as Relief Commissioner deepened my understanding of how sensitive the administration must be toward the media.
In our control room, staff worked 24×7, so we kept the television on continuously — monitoring all news channels. Whenever there was news of a natural or man-made disaster, we immediately alerted the district administration to make the system responsive and ready to act.
If ever we missed something, the Chief Minister himself was alert and watching.
It became my daily habit — whether early morning or late at night — to check my phone messages and turn on TV-9 to listen to the headlines.
In fact, TV news often reached us faster than our own official reports, giving not only the first alert but also local insights that proved extremely useful.
An August Dawn
One early morning in August 2013, I woke up before dawn — it was still dark outside.
As usual, I switched on the TV and saw breaking news: due to heavy rainfall in Vadodara, two blocks of a Gujarat Housing Board colony had collapsed, causing loss of life.
Without delay, I called the District Collector and the Municipal Commissioner, waking them up and putting them to work on disaster management operations.
Since the Gujarat Housing Board was a government entity, the incident had direct administrative implications. So, I immediately called the Chief Minister’s residence to inform him.
To my surprise, the Chief Minister himself came on the line. He asked for details and said he would take a full report at 8 a.m..
But before that time, one of the state ministers had already reached the site and was inspecting the damage.
Such swift responsiveness — who else could deliver that but our system under his leadership?
Flood Relief
That year, Gujarat received good rainfall.
During one of the flood situations, the Chief Minister was out of station.
Working in coordination with the district collectors, we ensured that people were safely evacuated, relief camps were set up, and no loss of life occurred.
In the review meeting held after his return, the Chief Minister appreciated our work but reprimanded the CEO of GSDMA for lapses.
Marriage Reception of Dhawal
Earlier that year, in February 2013, my younger son Dhaval’s wedding had taken place.
At the reception, Chief Minister Narendra Modi graced the occasion and added prestige to the event.
Former Chief Ministers Suresh Mehta and Shankersinh Vaghela, along with several ministers, were also present.
Relieved from the Relief Post
Later, since I was given the independent charge of the Panchayat, Rural Development, and Rural Housing Department, and had to focus on Garib Kalyan Melas, the government relieved me from the additional charge of Relief Commissioner in 2014.
My nearly three-year tenure as Relief Commissioner and Additional Chief Secretary (Disaster Management) gave me the opportunity to grow as a “one-man army.”
My friend Pankaj Kumar used to say that others should learn from me how to bring prestige to a so-called side post like Relief Commissioner.
He himself later applied the same approach brilliantly during COVID-19 as Revenue Secretary, which ultimately led him to the Chief Secretary’s chair.
7 October 2025
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