A Legacy Rekindled: Commodore Ashok Bhal, VSM (Retd) – A Visionary’s Voyage at DMET(IMU) Kolkata

It was the kind of crisp December morning in 2018 that made you tuck your hands deep into your pockets, the Kolkata air tinged with winter’s rare grace. The sun, still stretching awake, poured golden light onto the quiet pathways of our campus. A few of us—unwilling early risers—had dragged ourselves out for a morning walk, the usual banter keeping us warm against the cold.

That’s when we saw him.

A lone figure, jogging at a steady pace, weaving through the familiar bends and corners of the Indian Maritime University, Kolkata. He wasn’t just jogging—he was scanning, observing, as if committing every detail to memory. His sharp eyes flickered towards the warden’s office, then to the hostel blocks, before he resumed his stride. What stood out wasn’t just the athleticism, but the sheer contradiction of it. Sports shoes and half-trousers on a man his age? That wasn’t something we expected on a campus known for its rigid hierarchy.

Sachin Mahto, my walking companion, was the first to break the silence. “Must be some big-shot from Headquarters,” he muttered, hands still stuffed in his hoodie.

Curiosity got the better of me. We approached the security guard near the Junior Hostel and threw him a casual question.

“Bhaiya, kaun hai yeh mahoday?”

He barely looked up as he replied, “Naya Director.”

For a second, we thought he was joking. Directors don’t jog. Directors sit behind polished desks, inside air-conditioned offices. They appear on formal occasions, delivering scripted speeches before vanishing back into their sanctuaries.

And yet, here he was—out at dawn, surveying the ground himself, his presence as brisk and unwavering as his jog.

We didn’t know it yet, but that was our first glimpse of Commodore Ashok Bhal, VSM (Retd)—a man who would redefine our understanding of leadership.

Nurturing Leadership and Accountability

At first, we thought it was all for show and a cosmetic exercise. A new Director making the usual rounds, a display of enthusiasm that would soon fade into the usual administrative inertia. We had seen it before—leaders who arrived with grand gestures and lofty words, only to retreat into the safety of conference rooms and circulars.

But weeks turned into months, and Commodore Ashok Bhal, VSM (Retd), remained an anomaly. He wasn’t just an administrator; he was a presence. He didn’t watch from a distance—he lived among us, walked our pathways, stood in our mess halls, listened to our frustrations, and tackled issues most would sidestep.

The first real test came with a problem we had learned to live with—the chronic water crisis on campus. The issue wasn’t just mechanical; it was political. Water purifiers sat defunct, their fate tangled in red tape and indifferent governance. Where others saw a bureaucratic nightmare, he saw an unfulfilled basic necessity.

Within weeks, he had an interim fix in place—10-liter water containers for hostels. Not a grand overhaul, but an immediate relief. Then came the real solution: a campus-wide overhaul of the purification system. It wasn’t just about water—it was about sending a message. Leadership wasn’t about waiting for files to move. It was about moving things yourself.

He understood something few before him had—hierarchy should never become a barricade. Inspired by the practices of his predecessor, Shri Arun Kishore Eswara, he dismantled the labyrinthine bureaucracy between students and administration with a simple, powerful act: an open-door policy. No formal appointments. No layers of approval. If you had a problem, you could walk into his office and speak your mind.

And students did.

Something shifted in the air. Suddenly, administration wasn’t a distant entity—it was listening, responding, acting.

But Cmde Bhal’s real genius lay not just in solving problems but in creating leaders. The Naval man in him knew—discipline isn’t something imposed; it’s something cultivated.

He introduced a rotational leadership system, ensuring that every cadet—regardless of background, confidence, or rank—had their turn at responsibility. JCCs, CCs, SCCs—no longer ceremonial titles, but active roles. Each cadet in leadership had to submit a weekly report—covering inspections, fall-ins, campus cleanliness, research initiatives, and overall discipline.

For the first time, leadership wasn’t about ornamental status or a CV pointer. It was an obligation and a duty.

And the impact didn’t stop at discipline. He knew that the true measure of an institution wasn’t just its structure—it was its future.

Building upon the groundwork of his predecessor, Director Arun Kishore Eswara, he threw his weight behind placements. Not just as a figurehead, but as a driving force. Regular meetings with the Placement Officer, Shri S.K. Mukherjee, and the cadets handling placements became a norm. He pushed them—harder, further—to reach out to more companies, to sharpen student preparedness, to aim for not just employment, but excellence.

A job wasn’t the goal. A career was.

Beyond the placement hustle, he saw a larger picture. Not all of us would sail, and not all of us should.

Within a month of taking charge, he launched weekly mentorship sessions for senior cadets, especially third-years. Here, he dismantled the narrow tunnel vision of marine careers and painted a broader horizon.

DRDO. NITI Aayog. The Indian Navy. Global Maritime Policy. Research. Innovation.

The idea was simple: the ocean wasn’t the only frontier. There were battles to be fought in think tanks, innovations to be engineered in labs, strategies to be shaped in boardrooms. He wanted us to see beyond our textbooks, beyond our familiar career trajectories, into a world where Marine Engineers weren’t just seafarers but policymakers, defense experts, and entrepreneurs.

But perhaps his most remarkable legacy was his way of healing wounds.

IMU Kolkata had seen turbulent years—student protests in 2016, a tragic accident in 2017, a slow erosion of trust between students and the system. A fractured institution isn’t fixed with rules and punishments. It’s fixed with trust.

And Cmde Bhal understood that better than anyone.

Rather than dictating from the top, he worked alongside his predecessor, Director I/C Arun Kishore Eswara, to restore faith. Not through speeches or mandates, but through presence. Through action. Through a relentless, unwavering commitment to the one thing we had almost forgotten to expect from our leadership—genuine care.

Looking back, it’s hard to pinpoint the exact moment when he stopped being just our Director and became something more. A mentor. A force. A name that wouldn’t just be recorded in campus archives but in the very memories of those who lived through his tenure.

Not every leader changes a place. But some leave it so deeply transformed that even long after they’re gone, you still feel their presence in the very walls of the institution they once walked.

Restoring Legacy, Rebuilding Pride

I arrived at IMU Kolkata in August 2016, stepping into an institution that carried the weight of history but was, in many ways, crumbling under the burden of neglect. The air was thick with unspoken discontent—roads riddled with potholes, waterlogging that turned pathways into murky canals, and a sense of slow decay that clashed with the institution’s proud legacy. It hurt to see a place built on discipline and excellence slip into disrepair.

My mother always told me, “Amidst chaos, the universe sends the right people at the right time.” Back then, I thought it was just a comforting thought. At IMU Kolkata, I saw it become reality.

That reality took form in two remarkable men—Shri Arun Kishore Eswara and Commodore Ashok Bhal, VSM (Retd)—leaders who didn’t just govern but revived the very soul of the campus.

One of Cmde Bhal’s earliest acts was deceptively simple, yet deeply symbolic—fixing the broken roads and tackling the waterlogging issues. Many would dismiss these as minor infrastructural inconveniences, but he knew better. Before he could instill discipline, before he could inspire cadets to take pride in their institution, he had to restore the dignity of their surroundings.

And dignity wasn’t just about roads and drainage. It was about legacy.

He understood that symbols matter. Institutions are more than just buildings; they carry stories, traditions, and identities. That’s why, in an inspired act of revival, he transformed the Director’s Bungalow into the "DMET House."

No longer just an administrative residence, it became a monument to our heritage—a living, breathing reminder of the institution’s origins as DMET (Directorate of Marine Engineering Training). Its rechristening wasn’t just about a nameplate change; it was about reclaiming the spirit of the past and embedding it into the present.

But his vision didn’t stop at infrastructure and history. He recognised that even the most technical of institutions need a spiritual anchor.

At the heart of the campus stood the Shiva Temple—an old structure weathered by time, its presence fading into the background. Most had stopped noticing it. Cmde Bhal did the opposite—he restored it.

With the unwavering support of his wife, Smt. Sunita Bhal, he ensured that the temple was revived—not just as a place of worship, but as a sanctuary of tradition, a silent custodian of time.

"Amidst a world full of technology," he told us one evening, "it is the wisdom of the past that will guide us to victory."

His belief in tradition wasn’t empty rhetoric—it laid the foundation for something even greater.

Later, under his successor Director Arun Kishore Eswara, a sacred idol of Kaal Bhairav was enshrined within the temple’s sanctum sanctorum. A guardian of time, justice, and cosmic order, Kaal Bhairav’s presence became more than just a spiritual addition—it became a symbol of discipline, vigilance, and the eternal cycle of renewal.

IMU Kolkata had been through storms—some natural, some man-made. But with each act of restoration, each thoughtful decision, it became clear that these leaders weren’t just fixing an institution.

They were reviving a legacy.

Transforming IMU Kolkata into a Center of Excellence

The past is not just a repository of memories. It is a map. Every decision, every connection, every order he passed while in the chair, every event—each left a trail. If one follows that trail with diligence and courage, the answers are there, waiting to be uncovered. As I dwell into this article, many memories flashes my conscience: 

When Commodore Ashok Bhal took charge as Director of IMU Kolkata in December 2018, the institution was at a crossroads. Once a revered name in maritime education, its luster had faded, buried under years of stagnation. But for a man who had navigated the high seas of both war and peace, restoring lost prestige was not just an administrative duty—it was a mission. He saw beyond the aging infrastructure and outdated systems. He saw potential. And like a seasoned captain steering a drifting vessel, he set out to chart a new course.

His first move was to modernise the academic curriculum, ensuring that IMU Kolkata stayed ahead of maritime technological advancements. The results were swift and undeniable—within a short span, the Directorate General of Shipping (DGS) awarded the institution an A1 Grading under the Comprehensive Inspection Plan, marking it as a Center of Excellence. But academic rankings were never his sole focus. He believed in transformation that went deeper, something that would not just change IMU Kolkata but redefine its identity.

Recognition came not just from within the industry but from the highest office in the country. The Prime Minister himself acknowledged IMU Kolkata as a Centre of Excellence in Marine Engineering, a moment that rekindled institutional pride. The campus saw long-overdue upgrades, with better facilities and resources for cadets. But perhaps most poignantly, he revived the long-forgotten Passing Out Parade. For years, cadets had graduated without the grandeur that once defined DMET Kolkata, now IMU Kolkata. Under his guidance, the tradition was restored. The Governor himself graced the occasion, standing as a witness to the institution’s resurgence.

Discipline was the backbone of any maritime institution, but Cmde Bhal had a unique approach to it. Where others saw rule-breakers to be punished, he saw cadets who needed guidance. Instead of strict disciplinary actions that could permanently damage careers, he introduced a system of progressive warnings, physical training tasks, and intellectual challenges. Two rounds of the ground for minor infractions, working in the workshop for those needing to build resilience, delivering speeches to instill confidence, and reading research-based books from the library—books from which he would later quiz them in a surprise viva. Through these measures, discipline was not just enforced but internalised, shaping cadets into officers who led not through fear but through understanding.

Perhaps one of his most historic contributions came in the form of a remarkable gift—one that no other maritime institution in the country possessed. Through his strong ties with the Indian Navy, he secured a Gas Turbine, allowing cadets to gain first-hand experience with cutting-edge maritime technology. It was more than just a piece of machinery; it was a bridge between naval and commercial maritime expertise, a testament to his vision of holistic training.

But leadership is not just about physical transformation—it is about people. Cmde Bhal, along with Arun Kishore Eswara, recognised that an institution’s strength lay in its alumni. They launched DMET Samvaad, a platform that reconnected cadets with generations of illustrious alumni. Over 40 sessions, cadets had the privilege of engaging with eminent personalities, including the Chief of Naval Staff and renowned economist Sanjeev Sanyal. Through these interactions, young officers found mentorship, inspiration, and access to global maritime opportunities.

Global exposure was another priority. Under his tenure, cadets from IMU Kolkata stepped beyond Indian shores, representing the institution at the BRICS Conference in Russia, the South Korea Maritime Forum, and the UK P&I Club in London. In his eyes, it was not enough for cadets to be competent mariners; they had to be professionals of the world.

Then came the ultimate test of leadership—the COVID-19 pandemic. As institutions across the country shut their doors indefinitely, uncertainty loomed over the futures of cadets. But Cmde Bhal was no stranger to crises. With strategic precision, IMU Kolkata reopened earlier than most, implementing zero-positive protocols that ensured uninterrupted training. While others hesitated, he acted, safeguarding the careers of his cadets when they needed it most.

The true measure of a leader is not found in the accolades they receive but in the transformation they leave behind. Commodore Bhal did not merely run IMU Kolkata; he breathed life into it. Under his leadership, cadets began thinking beyond conventional career paths, embracing accountability, and leading with wisdom rather than authority.

Today, as one walks through the campus, there are no longer broken roads or abandoned traditions. The spirit of DMET—once lost—is alive again, its course firmly set for the future. And though his tenure may have ended, his leadership remains, quietly guiding, much like the unseen hand of an experienced captain steering his ship through the vast unknown.

For his exceptional contributions to the Defense, Public Sector & Shipping Industries, Commodore Bhal was awarded the Vishisht Seva Medal (VSM) by the President of India. The Chief of Naval Staff and Flag Officer Commanding-in-Chief (West) commended his outstanding service. In December 2022, IIT Kharagpur honosred him with the Distinguished Alumni Award, recognizing his invaluable contributions to India's maritime and defense sectors.

Today, he continues to serve as the Technical Advisor to the Gujarat Maritime Board, President of the IIT Kharagpur Alumni Association (Lucknow Chapter), Vice President of the Navy Foundation (Lucknow Chapter), and a member of the Recruitment Committee at the Indian Maritime University.

His mentorship endures. His lessons persist. And long after he has stepped away from the chair, the trail he left behind remains, for those with the courage to follow.

Special Note : This article has been written as per author's own memory and prudence taking inputs from Sachin Kumar Mahto (Class of 2020) and Kartik Keshari (Class of 2022)