Latest Circulars

  • Loading…
Home Office File Life

Episode 1 – The Chai Sabha

Click to Read →

Episode 2 – The Deferred Door

Click to Read →

Episode 3 – The рммାрнЯା Metric

Click to Read →

Latest Episode – Episode 4

POWER HAS NO PERMANENT ADDRESS

A power-packed twist that will shake the entire office!
New character. New storm. New drama.

Read Episode 4 Now →

More laughter, more drama, more Odia flavour — coming soon!

Loading...

Deadlines

Don't forget your deadline! ⚠️

Employee Compliance Deadlines & Critical Notices

Extension Orders

CRITICAL (0-3 days)
URGENT (4-10 days)
STANDARD (11+ days)
DAILY QUIZ

Daily Quiz Challenge

✨ WEEKLY GAME ✨

How to Play: Click an item in Column A to select it, then click its match in Column B. Pass Mark: 7

ЁЯПЖ Score: 0 / 10
COLUMN A
COLUMN B
ЁЯЗоЁЯЗ│

National News

Loading news...
ЁЯУ░

Odisha News

Loading news...

Contact Us

Your feedback is valuable for us

Power Has No Permanent Address | рмХ୍рм╖рмормдାрм░ рми рмеାрмП рмХୌрмгрм╕ି рм╕୍рмеାрнЯୀ рмаିрмХрмгା

POWER HAS NO PERMANENT ADDRESS

Disclaimer: The characters, events, and incidents portrayed in this story are entirely fictional and created for entertainment purposes only. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental. This content is not intended to harm, insult, or target any individual, group, company, or organization. Views, dialogues, and expressions used in the story are imaginative and should not be interpreted as real-life statements or advice. Readers are advised to enjoy the story responsibly.

Ravi and Hari started life from the same wooden table in a dusty government office— two lower-division clerks, two opposite worlds. Ravi — the naughty, carefree, chai-shop philosopher. Jokes, gossip, shortcuts, and laughter. Hari — the serious, hungry, ambitious one. Night study marathons, civil service books, and dreams of a nameplate that read: “Additional Secretary — Hari Kumar, State Administrative Service” People used to whisper: “Ravi will retire with a smile. Hari will retire with a bigger chair.” Destiny listened.


Hari cracked the State Administrative Service exam. From Deputy Collector → ADM →DM, he moved from district to district— bigger chamber, bigger pen stand, bigger ego. Ravi stayed in the same office. Slow promotions, piles of files, dusty registers. He eventually became Head Clerk. But he felt only pride for his friends success and use to tell his collings that “Mora bandhu bada officer heichi!” He had no idea how life would test that pride.

Three decades later, Hari was posted to Ravi’s department. Excited, Ravi polished his shoes and went to meet him. “Hari… it’s me… Ravi!” Hari didn’t even look up. “Maintain hierarchy. I’m Additional Secretary. You’re Head Clerk. Don’t act familiar in front of staff.” Ravi’s heart fell. He tried again the next week. This time Hari’s ego sliced deeper: “I studied when you wasted life on jokes. Positions are earned. Behave like a subordinate.” Ravi walked out, friendship turning to ash inside him.


From that day, Hari treated Ravi like a punching bag. Urgent files at 5 PM. Public scolding. Taunts disguised as “administrative discipline.” Ravi endured it silently— not out of weakness, but because the memories of friendship hurt more than the insults.

From that day, Hari treated Ravi like a punching bag. Urgent files at 5 PM. Public scolding. Taunts disguised as “administrative discipline.” Ravi endured it silently— not out of weakness, but because the memories of friendship hurt more than the insults.

A new cabinet formed. New power. New portfolios. One name shocked the department— the new Cabinet Minister was: GOPAL. Their third school friend. The boy who once submitted a blank answer sheet. The same boy who used to whisper during final metric exam “Ravi… last question answer ta dekha na… please!” And Ravi, every time, tilted his answer sheet just enough to pass him from failing. Life had a dark sense of humor. Ravi went to meet him. Gopal hugged him loudly: “RAVAAAA! YOU OLD DONKEY!” The entire office heard the abuses of old friendship. When the laughter faded, Ravi finally told him everything— Hari’s harassment, the humiliation, the constant ego games and delays. Gopal’s smile slowly disappeared. He looked at Ravi not as a Clerk, but as the same friend who once saved him in every exam. He pressed the intercom: “Call the Additional Secretary.” Hari entered, nervous but trying to look composed. And then Gopal said the line that froze the entire room: “Ravi will work in MY office from now. He will do the duty of my Private Secretary. All files for me… will be routed through him.” The Additional Secretary stiffened. Nodded. And understood exactly what that meant. Before he could even breathe, Gopal suddenly switched to his childhood mode— and blasted him with a string of school-style gali. Filthy. Loud. Legendary. Peons outside almost fainted from suppressed laughter. For the first time in months, Ravi felt justice… warm, alive, breathing

But political weather changes faster than monsoon winds. Scandal. Leaks. Debates. Gopal lost his portfolio. Then resigned. Hari rose again— stronger, angrier. As he walked past Ravi, he sang mockingly: “Aaiye… aapka intezaar tha…” Ravi felt humiliation crawling back. But destiny had saved the biggest twist for last.

One morning, a sealed vigilance file arrived on Ravi’s desk. Subject: “Additional Secretary Hari Kumar — Irregularities in transfers.” Ravi stared at the name. Thirty years of friendship. Thirty years of silence. Thirty years of betrayal. He didn’t take revenge. He simply did his duty. Forwarded the file: “Urgent. Place before Chief Secretary.” Two days later— Hari was suspended pending inquiry. Chamber locked. Nameplate removed. Files seized. He walked out carrying a small cardboard box— his entire “power” reduced to a carton. Ravi stood in the corridor, watching quietly.

That evening, fate played its strangest card. All three— Ravi, Hari, and Gopal— landed in the same dimly lit bar, each carrying his own sadness. ▪️ Hari — humiliated, suspended ▪️ Gopal — political career shattered ▪️ Ravi — stuck in the middle of their broken empires They ignored each other at first. One drink later, the air softened. A glance. A nod. A half-smile. Two drinks later— they were talking. Laughing. Arguing like schoolboys. By the third drink— they were on the bar’s tiny dance floor, three old friends moving clumsily, singing badly, laughing loudly. For one night, power vanished. Hierarchy dissolved. Only friendship remained. They parted without drama, just a nod that said: “Life made us idiots. But at least we were idiots together once.”

The next morning brought hangovers and reality. ▪️ Hari was still suspended. ▪️ Gopal was still a fallen minister. ▪️ Ravi was still Head Clerk. But they shared something they had lost long ago— a quiet understanding.

Ravi understood at last: In government service and politics— chairs rotate, egos inflate, careers collapse, friendships suffocate… But the truth never changes- Power stays with no one. Not forever.