Om Jindal Part 1 – The Transfer Order Ooty, 1895. The train hissed as it wound up the Nilgiri mountains, its wheels screeching around narrow curves, as though the very hills resisted intrusion. From his open window, Devendra Nath Rai watched thick clouds drape over eucalyptus trees and tea plantations like a shroud. The air had a peculiar chill—unlike the searing plains of Madras Presidency, where he’d spent most of his career. He was thirty-two, a quiet man with neat handwriting and a taste for facts. The British admired him for his efficiency; Indians called him “Sarkari Sahib” behind his…