The Saga Of The Gymnasium

In 1998, when someone came up with a plan to build a gymnasium on a flat patch of open land above the High School that had traditionally served as a playground for well nigh on a hundred years, it seemed like the most logical thing to do. There were no trees to cut down, no hills to level, and the odd casual structures built by the occasional badminton enthusiast could come down with a strong wind blowing eastward.

Onward and upward they went, and soon there were spectator stands along the boundary and the first pillars that would enclose the long dreamt of basketball courts. The principal beamed, the building supervisor strutted, and all round there prevailed a heady feeling of achievement. The school of the future was on its way.

Alas, there were some who did not like this at all. Was it an after hours telephone call, was it a whispered word, or just the west wind blowing the fragrance of donkey dung down to the Mussoorie Forest Division that alerted the local ranger to what was going on up the hill? He came, he saw, and he salivated. "Hello," he said. "Don't you know you can't do this? Can't you see the woods for the trees? This is forest land, you know," he concluded, surveying the whole barren patch.

"Not so," said the building supervisor. "Not so," echoed the contractor. "Let's get a lawyer!" roared the principal. "Fine," said the ranger and returned the following morning with an injunction: "STOP," it said, or be prepared to lodge the principal in Dun's historic jail, which, after all, had once housed no less a luminary than India's first Prime Minister.

Thus began The Saga of the Gymnasium. Eight years later we had seen it all and had knocked on every door: the District Judge and the Chief Judicial Magistrate in Dehra Dun, the Chief Justice of the Uttaranchal High Court in Naini Tal, the highest bureaucrats in the state, the Chairman of the Supreme Court's Monitoring Committee for Uttaranchal, and the Principal Secretary of the Central Government's Forest Ministry. Not one disputed our claims. Not one failed to see the injustice of it all. Not one, however, wielded the power to overrule the forest ranger's claim that we were in violation of the Forest Conservation Act.

It was time to read the writing on the wall all over again. In twelve months of rapid salvage action, beginning 2005, we dismissed our local lawyer, withdrew our counter-affidavit in the High Court of Uttaranchal, and stood once more before the District Judge in Dehra Dun. Yes, we said, we were indeed guilty of building without permission, and we have not done so since. The District Judge sentenced us to judicial custody till the rising of the Court and closed the ranger's case. On January 29, 2005, we were finally free to approach the Central Government with our application to build a new gymnasium.

"How nice of you to come," said the Central Government. "Yes, we agree that a prestigious school such as yours should have a world-class gymnasium, but there is a ban on construction in Mussoorie because the Supreme Court Monitoring Committee lodged a case in 1995 against some bad boys up there for colluding with the Mussoorie Dehra Dun Development Authority (MDDA) to construct in contempt of prevailing building by-laws."

"But we are not in contempt," we said. "We know," they said, "but only the Supreme Court can say so authoritatively." Back we went, to the drawing board. A new lawyer was engaged. New affidavits were filed in the highest Court of the land. Ironically, we were seeking to be heard in a matter that we were not party to. But heard we were, and after two appearances before the Chamber Judge to prove we did not need to be heard, we were permitted to appear before the Chief Justice of India, who alone had the authority to set us free of the eightyear yoke.

At 10.30 a.m. on November 6, 2006, we appeared before the Chief Justice of India, the Hon'ble Justice Sabharwal. Standing on behalf of Woodstock School was Senior Advocate, Mr. Mukul Rohatgi, a noted expert on constitutional law. Following Mr. Rohatgi's opening statement, the Chief Justice permitted a response from the Government's Standing Counsel. At precisely 10.38 a.m., Hon'ble Justice Sabharwal ruled to permit the construction of our gymnasium. The first and, we hope, most difficult part of the saga has ended. The drawings are ready. The tenders have been floated. The Win Mumby Gymnasium will be built. A new forest ranger drops in occasionally and smiles benevolently as he surveys the site.