The Day 'PUGAZH' Missed a Deal and Slept Better

There are good men in governance

By Hari Prasad Asokan: A CA and CFO at TIDEL Park Coimbatore Limited

In government service, you don't chase glory. You follow rules. You safeguard public money. You live by the book — or so we’re taught.

The other day, I met with a senior CAG audit member, Nakshatra, IA&AS, over coffee. Midway through the conversation, she smiled at me and said, "Come to my chamber; I will show you something."

When I entered her workplace, I was struck by how unlike a government office it was. The chamber was neat and well-lit, with a couch and a relaxing chair. A large bookshelf lined one wall with works on history, philosophy, and governance. In one corner, a 65-inch TV ran a news channel, one-third of the news, and the rest of the ads.

Nakshatra carried herself well. She pulled a drawer, handed me a file, and said, "Read this. Meanwhile, our black coffee is on its way — no sugar, of course."

The file was labelled "Case: Mr A. Pugazh, Finance Officer, ETP Limited" in bold.

"Pugazh," Madam Nakshatra said, her fingers tracing the name on the file. "It's a name that carries weight. In some languages, it means 'fame' or 'glory.' See what you make of this Pugazh's story."

She then left me alone with the file.

On the left was a clean index; the right held a set of neatly sequenced documents. The top sheet carried the government's emblem and the subject line: "Finance Department - Loans and Advances - Confirmation of settlement of loan -- Reg." Looked routine. Settlements happen all the time, I thought. But the details hit me hard as I scanned the documents, working sheets, and timelines.

The case involved a company formed 17 years ago as a special-purpose vehicle to promote a particular sector. When a new finance officer joined two years ago, ETPL had outstanding liabilities—some over five years old, others close to a decade. The government loan for a key project remained unpaid well past its due date. Instead of recovering it aggressively, the government converted the interest into another loan with a 20-year repayment window.

The new finance officer did something different. He saw the balance sheet and the liability and didn't ask for more support or another deferral. Instead, he and his team laid out a tight but feasible repayment plan.

Over the next 13 months, he restructured finances and steered the organisation toward debt clearance.

Finally, a cheque covering the entire loan, including penalties and additional interest, was written and signed. If the cheque was released and honoured, ETPL would be officially debt-free. It was certainly a quiet victory.

The delay in repayment attracted a staggering 37% additional penalty and interest . The board deliberated. extensively. Several members argued for a waiver. "Let's negotiate it down," some suggested. The finance officer could have pursued that route but didn't.

He convinced the board to approve the full payment—no waivers, no shortcuts. After all, there had been a delay, and a price had to be paid. Life does not offer free lunches. Within 15 days, the cheque was deposited into the government account. A few days later, the official settlement confirmation arrived.

The books were now clean.

Just as the story seemed to be heading towards a feel-good ending, my eye caught the last document in the file: a letter addressed to the finance officer.

Subject: "Delay caused to pay Penalty and Additional Interest to the Government which could be avoidable - Explanation called for."

The Officer who cleaned up the mess was now asked to explain why the mess existed. Coming from the C&AG, this was rich.

The Officer's reply was well-articulated and supported by records. He hadn't caused the delay; he wasn't even in the company then. He had been the one who resolved it. The film ended there — no further notes on what followed.

I finished my coffee, now cold, as she walked back in. I looked up and said, "He did the right thing,"

She nodded slowly with a big smile. "Interesting, right? Just a thought. As the board hinted, he could have deferred or sought a waiver. But he pushed his company to repay the government. And that him a memo! Phew."

Then she added, "In general, honest or ethical people get questioned more than the ones who stay quiet. Mark it; the organisation is now financially sound because of that man. The transparency brought the audit scrutiny, and, in a strange way, its closure."

"Hey, read this reply," she said, pointing to a letter the Finance Officer wrote to the C&AG Office. I read it slowly, going through the chronology of even and then this ending.

"To summarise, the company has a large loan and accumulated losses. The company's financial position could not meet additional obligations. The recovery would have been quicker had we received an exemption. I wasn't in this company when the defaults happened."

Nakshatra removed her glasses. "We dropped the charges against him, for there was no actual charge. Sometimes, we send out notices without serious consideration.

I thought about it. 'Pugazh' in Tamil means 'fame' or 'reputation.'

I handed over the file to Madam Nakshatra. She called someone on the intercom to come over to her cabin. He came and handed over his visiting card to me. It read "Pugazh, Senior Manager, Fraud and Vigilance Department." Madam rang up her secretary. "Please bring that now." The secretary arrived with a gift-wrapped box, heavy in my hands.

She smiled. "Welcome to the Service!!"

It was my first training day, and I already had my first lesson learnt: Integrity, accountability, and transparency matter.

In a world of convenience, Pugazh's choice reminded me that there is still space for doing the right thing. That night, I slept better. It told me that some are worth missing.