LOGISTICS MONITOR
Neither Prof. Ganesan nor Dhanasekharan of the Logistics Sector Skill Council (LSC) has reason to know Anjaneyalu from Telangana, undergoing the 100% subsidized 90-day driver training course anchored by Ashok Leyland. No surprises, too, if they were unaware of Nijum Riyaz, principal and secretary of the Driver Training Institute at Silsila. But they are linked in a way. Not as far-fetched as the much-talked-about sixth-degree separation! Much closer.
Prof. Ganesan oversees and rolls out the curriculum for various logistic skills taught at educational institutions, from high school to universities, as part of the diploma or degree in Bachelor of Logistics, a newfound job-rich potential segment supported by the government under the Skill India umbrella. , Dhanasekharan is the master chef who concocts the Qualification Package recipe for various logistic skills, including driver training, and not to forget his stellar role in the placement of the fresh skilled logisticians.
On his 55th day of the 90-day full-time residential course in truck driving, Anjaneyulu was stumped when Riyaz asked him to sleep inside the truck cabin, parked inside the spacious institute premises, for a night. Sleep inside the truck? Did he hear rightly or daydream? Confounded, he was.
“Yes, I ask you to sleep inside the truck tonight,” Riyaz repeated.
Combining Theory and Practical
So, the message was loud and clear. Anjaneyulu, a wannabe truck driver, has no option but to oblige his principal or chief coach. So far, he has fared well in the sandwich course combining theory and practicals. Another month to go before he is certified to seek a driving licence. Why jeopardise by refusing to spend a night inside the truck? I am certain Ganesan has not included “sleeping inside truck cabins” as part of his curriculum. Maybe he, too, is baffled by Riyaz’s diktat. Do the CMVR norms stipulate any such must-have item to qualify for a heavy commercial vehicle driver? Doubtful. Still, Riyaz ordained.
Anjaneyulu, armed with a blanket and a pillow, marched into the dark cabin of the BS-6 Leyland truck to sleep in the upper berth behind the driver’s seat recently.
Why did Coach Riyaz do what he did? The fifty-ish veteran Ashok Leylander, born in Alleppey, Kerala, and serving the country’s second-largest truck maker of various sizes and capacities at home and abroad, opted to head the newly established driver training institute set up jointly by his company and the state government of Telangana. “I love challenges,” he avers over the phone during one of our regular interactions.
After he and his team trained, certified, and got the driving licence for the first batch early this year, he placed a few in local transport companies on trial. “So that way, they can get real-world exposure and experience as truck drivers. I did not bargain for what transpired subsequently,” he elaborates, setting the course explaining his bizarre decision to send his students to sleep inside truck cabins.
Half a dozen drivers returned from the pilot project dejected and refused to go back. They complained that they were made to sleep inside the trucks, and obviously, it did not go down well with them.
“During the three-month course, they were sleeping on cots with pillows and blankets under the rotating ceiling fan. On the job, as fellow drivers in trucks on long routes, they were left with no choice but to sleep in the truck cabin. In protest, they left in a huff. As a coach, I realised it was not their mistake but mine. I did not prepare them for the real world. I should have made them aware of what the driving occupation entails,” points put Riyaz.
A remarkable candid confession. Teaching wannabe drivers the technical side of truck driving is not enough. It is akin to truck makers claiming their vehicles give x km per litre of diesel in their sales pitch. Such performances happen mostly under ideal conditions. The real world is not. Potential buyers and drivers laugh at such HCV OEMs’ bombastic claims.
Thinking Out Of The Box
Similarly, driver training institutes have to think beyond imparting the CMVR norms. Imparting soft skills to them ought to be part of the plan. Of late, this is happening.
Confronting the corrupt highway vultures — read the bribe-seeking RTOs — is a daily occurrence on Indian highways. Drivers get beaten up and killed at times for refusing to cough up by the corrupt elements. Wannabe drivers seeking a future in this new career should be briefed well about this illegal activity.
Today, the government has failed to tame this beast. It is a real-world daily experience. Awareness of such corrupt elements straddling the highways does not mean the elimination of risk. At least, the new entrants are prepared to face the situation and not surprised on the highways when confronted by such goons. The face-off with RTOs is inevitable, and it is an occupational hazard, a constant irritant. Visualising a corruption-free highway bureaucracy is utopian.
Similarly, truck driving demands drivers spend their nights inside the trucks on long hauls, however uncomfortable it may be. The chances of finding a secured parking space en route to step out and sleep in a proper bed and pillow under concrete roofs are bleak. By and large, drivers prefer to sleep inside their cabins even if such wayside amenities exist to ensure cargo safety and avoid fuel theft or tires while they sleep.
Bitter Experience and Beyond
After his first bitter experience of the first batch-placed driver students refusing to accept the regular habit of sleeping inside truck cabins while on duty in the real world of trucking, Coach Riyaz realised he was in the wrong and began to rethink his curriculum. “Nothing stops from innovating”, reasons the Leyland honcho.
“I must tell my students what the actual life of a truck driver is — no glossing over. Hiding the inevitable from students is a fallacy. So, from the second batch, currently in progress, I made it compulsory for students to spend an entire night inside trucks parked within the campus by rotation,” adds Riyaz.
“I did not expect such a request. But if this prepares me for the life as truck driver, I should know the intricacies of sleeping inside a truck cabin,” says the young twenty-something Anjaneyulu, an inter-pass Telugu bidda. He, however, had to confront the swarm of mosquitoes on the upper berth inside the truck cabin the first night. “Horrible, it was. To ensure free airflow, the windows were kept open and, yes, mosquitoes had a feast of me,” jokes Anjaneyulu over the phone. Next time, he armed himself with mosquito repellents.
Did he share his unique and first-time experience with his parents and colleagues at the institute? You must be joking. “It’s not something I am not ready to tell the world now,” adds he. These experiences, he says, are not “bragging rights.”
What he left unsaid was: today. Maybe he may narrate his “first night” experience inside the truck cabin to somebody in the future.
Riyaz, meanwhile, is punch pleased. “Learning happens all the time. There is nothing etched in stone. (We) need to keep improvising. After procuring the driving licence, I am confident these second batch [trainees] won’t quit citing the cabin sleep factor when placed. However, I cannot rule out new challenges cropping up. I am ready to outthink again,” guffaws the worldly-wise chief coach Riyaz.
Perhaps Prof Ganesan also has something to mull over and revise his syllabi. What about tinkering with CMVR norms? Why not?
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