DK Kapila The Oracle

  The Role of NABARD in the Economic Development of India  By Dinesh Kumar Kapila, Chief General Manager (Retd), NABARD .   (Written as requested within 850 words for Business Sandesh, Published on 1st Aug 2025)  The National Bank for Agriculture and Rural Development (NABARD) plays a crucial role in advancing rural development in India through a multifaceted  approach . Established in 1982  by an Act of  Parliament,  NABARD ,  a  statutory  apex development al financial institution ,  has the  mandate to foster agricultural and rural development  by  sustainable and inclusive growth  with a  focus on both financial and non-financial interventions .  NABARD plays a crucial role in  the  growth of the rural economy   through a range of functions. These include refinancing rural financial institutions  for short term credit  for agriculture , refinancing banks and NBFCs for i...

  Don’t Fret, Be Happy Dinesh K Kapila (Based on Chairing a RWA - Residents Welfare Association) When landlord and tenant fight The fight lands at your doorstep You are zapped what to do Don’t fret, be happy When a maid jumps the wall Elopes with the neighbours Jeeves Except being open mouthed what can you do Don’t fret, Be happy Children of servants fight Beat the shit out of each other The employers are grumbling you are thinking Don’t fret, be happy Youngsters gathering near the tavern Beering and smoking and shouting The police are slow in responding Don’t fret, be happy Heavy winds and drenching rains The damn tree has cut the wire again You could only phone or protest Don’t fret, be happy Mobike stolen and no one has a clue You are thinking what’s this now The cops go around scratching v their heads Don’t fret, be happy Tertiary water comes off and on Scorching summer days go by and plants dry out All you hear is the pipes cracked Don’t fret, be happy Children playing boister...

 Wheezing your way up a Hillock !  Dinesh K Kapila  This was a quest. A mighty quest. Armies would have stopped battles to watch it in olden times. Sector 36 has three major parks and people from all walks of life come over to walk along the pathways. One of the parks, quaintly named as The Hibiscus Park, has a hillock. Well, hillock is dignifying it, a gentle grass coated rise of say say 50 feet, along the slope maybe 100 feet.  Many moonrises ago, I was out walking and decided to take a few rounds of the Hibiscus Park. I stopped going there after one romantic couple, really cuddling away, fed of my repeated rounds, remarked loudly, ‘uncle ji, it seems is vela (totally idle), all he does is walk’. Well, as i was saying many moonrises ago, one late evening, as I entered the park, I saw policemen all over. Rifles in hand, stationed at all sorts of corners. Curious, I walked on, and realised a Minister in the Government of Punjab was out for a walk. With six policemen ...

  Appearances ! Oh Chandigarh ! Dinesh K Kapila Appearances. The real self. The perceived self. The public self for the world to see, sometimes multiple selves. That is us. Surya felt only Chandigarh took it at times to another level. Surya was with his wife Annie at a house in a tony locality in Chandigarh. Visiting. For those who do not know, Chandigarh has a clear cut demarcation. Here localities are called Sectors. Sector 1 to Sector 30 are directly maintained by the Chandigarh Administration, they are visibly cleaner. Sector 8, Sector 9, Sector 6 are viewed as exclusive. It’s deeply rooted, this degree of exclusivity. The accents are apparently plusher and softer and lifestyles more lah de la, that is the refrain. Then come the other sectors. As you cross over from Sector 30 onwards, maintained by a private company, the perception itself changes, so goes the wisdom. One old timer, a hard nosed businessman from Sector 6 once told Surya, you guys in the Sectors such as 33,3...

  A Knock on The Door and a Memory A Short Story By Dinesh K Kapila  (written for a contest, had to start with Knock Knock ...) Knock knock. The sharp rap shattered the silence, jolting her from a restless daze. Who would knock so late ? Open the door ! The voice, urgent, cut through the stillness. Her breath hitched. That voice ……. Unmistakable. She froze, heart pounding, hand inches from the knob. It could not be…. It sounded just like Dheeraj. How could it be? Just could not be. She was wondering, in the meantime, the knocking continued. Sharp raps. Relentless. She stood back a couple of steps. Wondering. Thinking should she open the door. It was late. Very late. ‘Wait’, she shouted loudly. ‘I will just take a minute”. That would buy her time. To think. What did he look like now. It was now more than three decades since they last met. She had moved on and so had Dheeraj. Life, it gives chances, you grab some, some you let go. On an impulse she steeled herself and o...