OPERATIONS

(The Operations mentioned below are ones in which the author has participated himself and are true and actual incidents. Some of the narratives may be a little too gross and are not meant for the weak hearted. Reader discretion is advised.)

OPERATION MULE TRAIN

My first experience on a post was a little too much for any sane human. But then neither were we sane nor human. If the tinned food, being restricted to the three bunkers for three months, lack of space to move around, no bath for 3 months or the same old constipated faces to see were not enough, lack of professionalism in people who were at places which mattered added insult to injury. As a young gun – raring to go and prove my mettle, it was all a little too much to digest. There existed a silent cease fire based on mutual understanding between the Pakistani battalion and the one in which I was based. This perhaps because of the funny deployment on ground. The top of the hill had both – a Pakistani post and an Indian. On the slope that came down was a Paki post and then an Indian (mine) and at the foothill were both the sides again. Every night the sentries would exchange the profoundest profanities possible. Sometime when they’d get along they’d exchange notes on Benazir Bhutto and Sonia Gandhi (which I better not delve into).

All along I’d heard my course mates brag about how much action they’d seen while on the post and how both the sides would carry out operations against the other – with weapons and severed heads as trophies to bring back. And here I was listening to the sentries gossip about Benazir and Sonia at night. Before the helplessness could get the better of me, I decided to take things into my own hands. One night I quietly rolled down a large stone on the Paki post below. As it rumbled down, the Pakis didn’t know what hit them – perhaps it was a landslide or perhaps the Indians sneaking in for a raid. The whole outpost was on its toes. We witnessed mini Diwali. They fired every possible illuminating device they had and were up the whole night while I smiled to sleep. This continued for the next couple of nights and became a joke on my post. Anyone feeling bored would simply roll down a stone and everyone would gather to see the fun below. We would just love to see them run around and man all stations the whole night. Now one night the Paki post above us observed what was happening and decided to give it back to us in the same coin. We would get rations and drinking water in cans mounted on mules which would come from down below. As the mule train wound up one day, the Pakis were waiting with guess what? Stones! The poor mules bought it and one fell into a nullah below. Not willing to accept the casuality of a mule, the Infantry battalion finally decided that they had had enough. An eye for an eye, blood for blood and a mule for a mule. But the only Paki mule that we could target couldn’t have been hit even if the Olympic champ threw a stone. The next best thing was a bullet. The planning and co-ordination that went into Operation Mule was phenomenal! Every post was asked to be prepared to target the next Paki mule train. Posts were stocked with rations and water. Movement was restricted. Weapons were cleaned and ammunition readied. Imagine the surprise of the Paki porters the next day when the whole battalion opened up with every weapon held on the mule train. The firing continued till late at night. Tracers shot across and bombs rained. Thankfully there were no casualties – neither of the men nor of the mules. But the lesson was learnt, the thirst for action quenched and peace restored. Like good soldiers we reported back – 478 rounds fired, 2 mules shot.

OPERATION TREE TRACKS

The General was coming for a visit and the Officers Mess we had just taken over was in a ‘mess’. Trees (actual full grown “trees”) were planted overnight, walls painted and a 5 star guest room set up according to the likes and dislikes of the Brigadier and his wife. She even supervised cutting of the tufts of grass in the lawn – we finally had to do it with scissors – it was too fine to be done with the lawn mower (I never paid so much attention to trimming my beard – well, then that’s how the Army teaches you to keep an eye for detail). However, there was a small thing that we overlooked – a crack in the wall right in front of the entrance. It had to be covered at any cost. Since there was just one night left and no time to inspect things later – the task was left to the Commanding Officer who delegated it to the Adjutant. To cut things short – it finally found its way to the junior most youngster in the unit. Displaying “out-of-the-box” thinking at its best, he decided to cover it with a creeper. Men worked at it the whole night – right from a stem coming out of a pot, to leaves on the wall (stuck with stick tape) which covered it just appropriately. The finished product would have put even the best of Bonsai artists to shame. The whole thing went off very well and the General was very impressed with everything. While leaving he just had one thing to say to the Commanding Officer – he also wanted a sapling of the Mango tree which grew like a creeper on the wall – for his own house.

OPERATION MC DONALDS

He loved them more than he loved us. Us? We were scum for him – he probably loved them more than he loved his own children. He had been looking after them right since the unit was in Punjab. These were the Commanding Officer’s GEESE. When the unit was to move from Punjab to Assam, we dreaded undergoing the pain of looking after them in the train and then in the new location – in the heart of insurgency infested Assam. All our efforts to explain the risk of infections enroute and bird flu in Assam went in vain. The message went out loud and clear – heads would roll even if one of them died.

Every morning the Commanding Officer would walk to the “play area” for the geese and feed them their breakfast. He just loved it when they would come cackling to gobble up their food and even made it a point to take all visitors to see their display of affection. And god forbid, if the birds decided to sleep a little longer or were not feeling hungry, all hell would break loose. Anyone coming across the Boss that day would get a mouthful. The word would soon be out that the geese had not eaten and people would not step out their offices. There had to be a way around this. Operation Mc Donald was conceived and launched. A dedicated sentry was detailed for the geese. His only job was to make sure that they were up and running in the morning much before the Boss came for his customary visit (even if it meant that he ran after them with a stick to get them up and kicking). The birds were not given any food from evening onwards so that they were at their hungriest best when the Boss came in the morning. A small pool was constructed so that he could watch them frolic and play in the water.

Then one day as I entered the headquarters, I found a person distributing sweets. One of the geese has laid eggs. Things were at their happiest zenith – that is till the day, she decided that she’d had enough of sitting on the eggs while the others played in the pool and joined them. Grief descended on the whole place. Now there would be no “babies”. Besides catching terrorists, I was tasked to “manage” the eggs to be hatched somehow. Like a good soldier, I found the solution – a commercial hatchery which hatched hundreds of eggs. We co-ordinated all aspects, the eggs were kept in a special container and sent in a jeep (to ensure minimum bumps). In the meantime the Boss went on leave. Every evening, he’d call and check about the eggs. Everything was going fine till one day there was a power breakdown. The “egg hatching machine” got switched off and in an instant – all the eggs were ruined. Besides our eggs the poor guy lost some 500 odd other eggs too. But who gave a damn about the others.

There had to be a way out. An operation was launched in the whole area. As many as 5 teams were out scouting for – no, not terrorists, but geese who had just laid eggs or had chicks which were new born. We finally located one farmer and persuaded him to rent out the chicks (he just wouldn’t agree to sell them). The chicks were introduced into the group and were soon accepted (after a few initial hiccups and a little coaxing). Imagine our relief and the Boss’s joy when he came back and saw the chicks. They carried us through for the next three months till our Boss got posted out and then were dutifully returned. As for the geese – you should try it sometime – as tasty as duck!

(more to come ............ )

101 Reasons (that women use) for Refusal in Bed ........

1.   Headache  .... the most common one.
2.   Its "that" time of the month.
3.   Its too cold.
4.   Now its too hot.
5.   My mom is not well and all that you can think of is this!
6.   Atleast sometimes connect on a spiritual level.
7.   Please brush !
8.   I haven't brushed ... and I am too sleepy to do it now.
9.   My toe nail broke... :o(
10.  I'm too sleepy.
11.  I've had a very long day.
12.  I burnt the food ... Its ok love .. Ok, then will you do the dishes before this?
13.  I am too tired but you can rape me if you want.
14.  Can't you wax all those hair?
15.  I think we should have a baby.
16.  Please hurry up and get over with it - I have a long day ahead.
17.  I think I heard our son cry.
18.  He has to sleep with us tonight - can't you see how scared he is?
19.  He has to sleep between us - he'll feel more secure.
20.  I haven't waxed ... It's ok - I like hair. You pevert - don't even come close to me!
21.  I'm having a tooth ache.
22.  My stomach is upset.
23.  First say that you love my mom.
24.  Tomorrow - promise!
25.  When we go on a holiday.
26.  (When you are on a holiday) All that you can think of is this - atleast lets enjoy this place.
27.  Who was that girl you were talking to? Go to her only! (when the whole world would've gone to sleep).
28.  Don't you dare touch me! But what did I do? Don't ask me - ask yourself!
29.  Your feet are stinking!! (And by the time you wash them and come back - she's in dreamland).
30.  Didn't you have a bath? Eeeuuggghhhh !
31.  This hair cut of yours really puts me off (now where do i find a barber at this hour).
32.  (no words - just a slap on your hand / face)!
33.  (no words - she justs yawns while you are at it)!
34.  (no words - she starts looking for her glasses or searches for something to eat or starts to send a sms)!
35.  My periods last three days before and three days after too ...
36.  Did you know that the female mantis rips off the male mantis's head before doing it?
37.  I'll bobbitise you if you touch me!
38.  Theres a lizard on the wall ... and I think its looking straight at me!
39.  Theres a mouse in the room !!
40.  My back aches.
41.  This bed creaks.
42.  I think your mom and dad in the next room can hear us!
43.  First say you love me ... I love you .. No, but how much do you love me? How long have you loved me? Will you love me forever? Will ... ? How ...? What..? Where..? When ..? zzzzzzzzzzzzzz......
44.  I'm loosing so much hair .....
45.  Can you rub some balm on my forehead .... and then you can never get it off your fingers!
46.  Grow up! (thank god for small mercies - she said UP and not Long!)
47.  Can't you shave off your moustache? (and look like Mohammad Yousuf?)
48.  I think your rubber just caused an allergic reaction! (so what if you've used the same brand for years!)
49.  I need to get up early.
50.  Why does your mom have to be so bitchy? (such conv can come anytime - either before starting or in the middle of it)
51.  I need to go to the loo ...
52.  Can I catch up on the news also?
53.  I'm sore!
54.  We just did it last month and you want it again?
55.  (She burps just as you're about to kiss!)
56.  First arrange your shoes and socks, clean your almirah, put those dirty undies in the washing machine, clean your comb, throw the garbage out ,....... (the list is endless).
57.  I am not opening my clothes - do it like this only!
58.  Use a magazine or a CD!
59.  Wow! Your breasts are getting bigger than mine... (maybe we can shop lingerie together).
60.  Is this normal? (and we are NOT refering to size - are we?)
61.  I think I have fever.
62.  I think I caught an infection (UTI ???) when we visited your relatives last week.
63.  I think you have an infection. Get yourself checked and get a medical report. Come to think of it - where were you yesterday?
64.  Today is Tuesday ...
65.  Today is my San#@&$| mata's upvaas or jagraata....
66.  The navratra's are on ... or worse - I've taken a celibacy vow for three months for your long life!
67.  Just as you are about to start - I've got a cramp!
68.  Today is Amavasya (New Moon) ..!
69.  Swamiji said that abstinence takes you to a higher spiritual level. (Don't they have an Osho Communique close by).
70.  As soon as you start, she closes her eyes and starts chanting  "Jai hanuman gyan gun sagar..." (or some thing else)!
71.  Please wear 2 rubbers! I am not taking chances.
72.  We'll do it only after you get a vasectomy done!
73.  I think our dog is scratching at the door!
74.  The bell rings and its your favourite neighbour asking for sugar!
75.  After all this, when she agrees - your mom walks in! Now you need a new house for privacy !
76.  Listen ... why did (your) mother say this? If you persist ... You never want to talk to me - all that you are interested in is this!
77.  I don't like this cologne you're wearing ... take it off! (What? Am I supposed to take a bath now?)
78.  Practise some more ... (even after all these years of doing just that?)
79.  I think there is someone outside the window .... No, no, so what if you've checked? I'm not in that frame of mind now!
80.  How can you watch all this?? (you're sick & need professional help!)
81.  I'm just not in a mood right now!  ....  (...after two minutes ..... What about now?)
82.  I've got mehndi (henna) and egg in my hair.
83.  I think I've got an infection in my tooth / throat / lungs / wherever!
84.  My breasts hurt ... Do you think I have cancer?  (and then she doesn't even allow you to check up ..!)
85.  (If you're on a holiday and its a religious place - actually she'll find a temple everywhere - religious or not) .... Here also? Have some shame!!
86.  Is that how you do it? (You mean to say you do it in some other way? When? With whom? ... Oh God!!)
87.  I think I'm going to be down!  (and the feeling stays for a week before she actually is).
88.  I think I just lost my ring / ear ring / nose ring / toe ring !
89.  Why is Mrs So-and-So so friendly with you? I don't know. So why did you have to be so pal-ly with her? Now go to her only!
90.  Your teeth are hurting!! (wish i had dentures - I'd take 'em off instantly!!)
91.  What did you have to drink?  Eeaauuggghhh!!   (and I thought beer smelled nice ...)
92.  I'm not "comfortable" .
93.  If you're too fast - Idiot!  If you wait - Do it on your own now!
94.  I'm too ticklish! Just don't touch me while doing it!
95.  How cute! Is it up?
96.  Can't we just hold hands?
97.  If we have sex, will you leave me alone?
98.  Ohhh Abhishek (Bachchan??)! ....... (and YOUR name is Arjun).
99.  Damn ... WHERE is it???
100.  WHAT HAPPENED TO THIS!!!! 
101.  Is it in ...?




COMING UP NEXT : 101 Ways to get around these !!!

Disclaimer : The post is meant to put a smile on your face .... It is not a representation of any individual or survey. Please read, smile and move on ... 

The Story So Far

It was four in the evening and the flight had already been delayed for two hours when the airlines announced its cancellation. Diya rang up home to inform her parents that she wouldn’t be able to make it to Krish’s wedding. Krish and she had grown up together; their parents had worked in the same organisation for years and shared a close relationship. As it is she wondered what had gone wrong with her friend to have fallen in love with a sardar and that too one who had a proper beard and moustache. Eek! How could someone love a person with a moustache and that too a sardar!! She herself was about to get engaged with a friend. He was smart, caring and they’d been together since college. That was all that mattered – this thing about love was a little beyond comprehension. As she disconnected the call and started to walk towards the exit, the airlines announced that the flight would finally take off but after another short delay. She wondered if going to Chennai after such a long wait at the airport would be worth the effort and finally gave in and walked towards the check in counter.

Krish gave her a quick run down about the whole affair as they got ready for the dinner. She definitely was in love – and that too with a sardar! When Diya finally met Karan - the groom, he seemed to be a nice and warm person. Atleast Krish was happy and that was all that mattered. He introduced his family through the crowd and pointed out his parents and brother to her. Even though she couldn’t make out half of them because of the crowd and the din of the loud music, she pretended as if she’d seen them all. They all would be sardars - bearded and turbaned. As Krish pointed out Arjun, her brother-in-law, she expected the young boy in “Kuchh Kuchh Hota Hai” – counting stars at night, to come running! Sardar kids were always so cute – she wondered what happened to them once they grew up – how could a butterfly change into a hairy caterpillar instead of it being the other way around. Anyways, she could not see any small kid but only the helm of an off white Jodhpur jacket. Her head moved back as she craned her neck up to see a tall, smart and handsome man with neatly cropped hair. Her heart skipped a beat.

Our eyes met through the dancing petals as they slowly bowed to the magic of the moment gracefully gliding onto the floor as my brother, Karan, and his (now) wife, Krish, completed the last few rites of their marriage. Was she really looking at me or was I just imagining things? Even Nimoji, my only friend in the wedding seemed to think that she was and smiled glancing knowingly towards her. I didn’t even know her name and was leaving the next day - had to go back to my unit which was in the Siachen Glacier. Just as I started moving towards her, father called and I lost her in the crowd. Why did these things happen to me only?

It was night and the reception in honour of the newly weds had started. My eyes searched for her but she was nowhere to be seen and as if to add to my woes, I’d been asked to run a dozen errands. Most of the guests had left by the time I’d finished the last one and got back. Dejected I walked straight to the food counter to have dinner. And there she was – as beautiful as ever - sitting right next to the dinner counter talking to Prithvi. Talking to Prithvi!! What was he doing talking to her? This couldn’t be happening! As if God was right there listening to me, Prithvi left to get some water. I walked over and introduced myself – “Hi! I’m Arjun. Karan’s brother”. Oh God! Why did they have to make a movie by this name ... this sounded so clichéd! “Hi! I’m Captain Arjun”. “Captain? Captain of what?”. Now this was an unusual one. “Captain of what? Captain in the Indian Army”. “And I am Lady Diana”, she replied. Now we were getting somewhere. That was a nice name except that it sounded very familiar. I’ll figure that out later, I thought and asked her if she’d like to join me for dinner. Join me for dinner! Now what in the world could have made me say that. This was not going anywhere nice. Why would she want to join me for dinner? And as if she’d read my thoughts, she told me that she’d already had her dinner. “Then would you like to give me company while I have mine?” Now I was convinced that I’d been taken over by some evil spirit which did not want me to get to know her. Why would she want to watch me eat? “And why do you think would I want to watch you eat?” Oh God! She could read my thoughts too! For once I was relieved when Prithvi walked in and asked her for a dance. That atleast stopped me from making more of these faux pas. The only good thing about the whole evening was that she came to say goodbye to me after about half an hour - the half an hour that I spent eating the tastiest worst meal of my life. Why couldn’t I have asked her for a dance? Where did the dinner come in from? I’d spent only five minutes with her – five minutes in which I made a complete fool of myself. Couldn’t you somehow rewind time and let me ask her for a dance?

My sister-in-law refused to give her contact details to me. All that I got to know was her name – Diya. On the day I was to catch my flight to Leh, Krish, very magnanimously, gave me her email ID. I somehow managed to get myself manifested in the next day’s flight and ran to the nearest cyber cafe. After waiting for about two hours outside the cafe and checking my mail inbox atleast a dozen times I got a reply from her. What followed was the movie “you’ve got m@il” truncated into an hour. I finally got her number and spoke to her. We laughed about the dinner and she confided how she’d enjoyed pulling my leg. The next morning I caught my flight to Leh.

Siachen had no means of communications – at least not with the “normal” world. After a couple of weeks of absolute misery, God answered my prayers and sent an Enmarsat (a satellite phone). So what if it was seven odd kilometres from my base. I’d walk down or take a ride to reach that place and hang around till night so that I could get to talk to her for longer durations after all the others who wanted to make calls had left. One night my immediate boss in that location enquired about our relationship and wanted to know what was between us. Not convinced with my reply that we were only friends, he decided to call her up and find out for himself. It was one in the night when he got through to her number. I don’t know if it was the sleep or the irritation of being called at one in the night by someone who she didn’t even know, but she said that she loved me. I was too happy for words and the silence that followed was broken by a simple, questioning and expectant “Well?”. Well? Well what? What was I supposed to say? She asked me if I loved her too. I told her that I’d tell her tomorrow and disconnected the call. My revenge for the dinner was complete. Did I love her? Did I love her? More than anything in this world!

The next step was telling father and convincing him that the five minutes I’d spent with a girl he wouldn’t even remember, had driven me insane enough to spend the rest of my life with her. His reaction was very expected and polite. Like the Brits, he was very subtle in suggesting that I hardly knew her and perhaps it would be nice if I chose someone from our own religion if not our caste. A hint which in plain Indian language meant – forget it! But the optimist that I was – I took that as a hint that I needed to spend more time with her. So the next holidays, instead of going home, we toured Jaipur and Udaipur. What could be a better than this to get to know her? We were so happy together and felt so complete in each others company.

Before I knew it, my holidays were over and it was time to go back to my unit. In the months that followed, we kept talking and writing to each other. However, inspite of all my reasoning and pleading father refused to give his consent to the whole affair. Bowing to his wishes, I asked her to move on with her life as I could never think of hurting my family. Life suddenly turned into a shade of lifeless grey. As if fate had also been bribed, I was asked to go to a post on the line of control. It was an isolated place – with no means of communications. The three months spent there seemed like three years. My heart literally bled from what I had done to her and what I’d lost out in life. I’d spend days sitting out there in the open, staring into oblivion. Even the Pakis got sick of me and stopped threatening that they’d shoot me – perhaps the anguish of love – if not love itself – transcends all boundaries. When I came down from the post I decided that something had to be done – I couldn’t continue living the life of a loser. But there was more in store. Easy are not the ways of love. The parliament was attacked and tension grew at the border. I moved from Siachen to Kargil. Going on leave was a foregone conclusion. All communications had been cut for security reasons so I couldn’t even talk to her. Due to shortage of officers I was asked to move to one of the forward most posts again. Gun duels raged everyday and once after a particularly intense round of firing, I realised that life was too short to keep everyone happy – you got only one chance at it and you were a looser if you didn’t utilise that.

As soon as the ceasefire was announced, I asked my boss to de-induct me from the post since I wanted to sort some personal issues out. I was lucky to have a helicopter flying out that way and by nightfall I was back in civilisation – or whatever came closest to the rocky hell of those hills. Telephone lines had been connected again and I rang her up to apologise and plead for another chance. Through tears of joy, sorrow and love, we made peace. The sky seemed so much brighter (so what if there weren’t any clouds), my step seemed lighter (so what if I’d lost six kilos on the post) and I was hopelessly in love – so thats what the whole world seemed to be smiling about. Life was beautiful. I was detailed to go to Leh to organise a function. It was going to take a few days there. So I rang her up and asked her to come to Leh. Shocked, she asked me the reason. Reason? To get married – simple! So what if the government couldn’t do it – I had to send across a strong message – we meant business – or rather – marriage!

He’s got to be joking, Diya thought as she lay wondering at what they’d just spoken about. It was almost the end of the month and she’d spent whatever was in the bank shopping. They said that shopping was the best antidote to sorrow – and it sure worked. But she was broke and getting a return ticket to Leh was impossible. As she lay brooding over the problem, her roomie suggested that she check with the airlines if they could encash whatever frequent flier miles she’d accumulated for a return ticket to Leh. And to her surprise – they agreed! The taxi stood waiting outside to take her to the airport. She was late. Even if it was for one day only, she still needed to think what would be required in Leh. It seemed like all the cars of Delhi had decided to come onto the roads on that day itself resulting in the longest traffic jams ever. By the time she entered the airport, they were announcing the departure of the flight to Leh. She ran to the counter and enquired about the flight. The manager pointed out to an airplane which was taxi-ing out to the runway. This couldn’t be happening. How could she loose out on something after coming so close to it – this was torture – inhumane. Tears welled into her eyes and she started to sob at her helplessness. The manager enquired what had happened and Diya cooked up a story that her husband had been wounded in shelling in Kargil, was in a hospital there crying for her. That seemed to do the trick. He radioed to the plane. In five minutes she was running on the tarmac, the manager carrying her bag, while a stair was being rushed to the aircraft. The flight to Leh had taken off after a slight delay – and Diya was on board!

My Boss had to leave for Siachen where part of our set up still existed. This was ideal. I was in Leh and Diya’s flight had landed. We immediately rushed to the Patthar Sahib Gurudwara. The priest there was from our setup and it wouldn’t be a problem convincing him to marry us. However, when we reached the gurudwara, he chickened out and refused to marry us without my boss’s (who was his boss too) permission. We were stuck – the matter would be reported within minutes and we’d have people hunting for us to stop the marriage in half an hour. We rushed to the Kali temple in the Buddhist Monastery but they didn’t know how to perform marriage rites. All attempts to convince her for solemnising our marriage with God as witness failed. We searched all places in Leh which had any connection to God but drew a blank. Either the priest was not present there or he didn’t know how to conduct marriages or was too scared to marry a couple which had eloped. By afternoon I had become a certified tour guide for a religious tour of Leh. The last thing left was a gurudwara made in a small house by the few odd sikh families which stayed in Leh. When I approached the head priest, he told me that the decision would have to be taken by the Sabha. So a meeting of the Sabha was called which consisted of five sikh gentlemen in a run down shop in Leh market. After reasoning with them, sentimentally blackmailing them if they’d like a sikh to go to the mandir to get married and giving a small donation to the gurudwara, the marriage was fixed an hour later. We spent the next one hour trying to search for a suit in Leh market since my dahling Diya was in trousers and hadn’t even thought of getting a suit along. So much for all that packing! We finally found a pink one in one of the shops. The driver, cook and waiter alongwith me became the witnesses and a friend who was also posted there consented to do the kanyadaan.

She caught the next flight back and I informed everyone that we had got married – the marriage being a mere token of our commitment to each other. We told our families that we wouldn’t formalise it or start living with each other till they permitted us to do so and got us married properly. Chaos and mayhem followed. My boss went crazy and drove down immediately. Father disowned me. Some congratulated us, some laughed at the whole affair. Some supported us while others took the whole affair as a source of inspiration. After two years of separation, bickering, pleading, apologising and reiterating our love for each other, our parents finally gave in and decided to get us married – by both Hindu and Sikh rites. Love reigned supreme and we became one – forever!

This story is the true life incident of a couple who married eight years ago, are parents of a son and still madly in love with each other.

NDA Special.....

(NDA special is a biannual train that runs between New Delhi and Pune carrying NDA cadets to their homes during term break and getting them back. The train used to take 7 to 10 days to reach Delhi from Pune and an equal time to get back. It was last priority for the railways and the cadets would get 10 to 15 days at home. It was a unique experience since you learnt Spiderman (hanging by the fan with your feet on one side and the hands on the other), Superman (keeping your feet on one side of the upper berth and your hands on the opposite end) and much more. It was an extended ragda which ate away a good part of your leave. You were mandated to travel by it unless you belonged to a place which wasn't covered by NDA special - and it pretty much covered all places north of Pune. This continued for some time till it became a butt of end of term entertainment show jokes much to the delight of the cadets and the discomfort of the instructors and logistic officers, and a commandant decided that something needed to be done about it. It then started to run as a regular train covering the journey from Pune to Delhi in 2 to 3 days ....) 

The Run Up

Had just passed my 12th - much to the surprise of Ms Zutchi, my class teacher - her predictions didn't hold out against my mom's prayers i guess, and I decided to fill in my NDA entrance exam form. I thought Navy would be a better choice since they were always in Bombay or Cochin or such nice places as compared to the Jorhat or Faridkot that I'd been to as a kid and so opted for Navy. Dad had got me admission into Khalsa College Amritsar, so that I could get to know my roots better (somehow couldn't convince him that the roots would flourish better in Delhi) and I was now desperate to get out of that place. The examination centre was a buzz of activity - kids with thick Manorma Guides and mathematics books (which I'd never touched in school and so made no sense touching now), parents coaching them and giving last minute tips and an occasional vendor selling UPSC exam guides guarantee-ing 100% success. After the first exam there was a break for 45 minutes during which I came out to the garden outside the centre and was lying down listening to the same vendor making a sales pitch. The next thing I knew was him shaking me and asking if I was also appearing in the exam. The park was empty and the second exam had started 15 minutes ago!!

The interview call was for Bangalore. Had heard of MG Road and Brigade Road..... I couldn't have asked for more. The mere fact that had cleared the exam was good enough for me to last through 3 years staying in Room No 27, Nabha Hostel, Khalsa College, Amritsar!! Met a few people leaving the SSB centre who told us that no one had made it from the past 5 batches of over 300 people. Well, who was bothered about the interview..... it was Brigade road that I was interested in!

Met Bisht- a jawan who'd come for selection as an officer. He knew how to sweet talk the sentries at the gate into opening them for us after we came back from pubbing at 1 in the night and laugh our heads off at candidates who were still studying (god only knows what) when we got back. To everyones shock we were the only ones to be separated from the "baba" lot and like sahibs our luggage was shifted into rooms for the medical check up candidates. The medical was even better. The Air Force hospital insisted in making everyone go through all tests irrespective of whether they were applicable or not. We were only too happy when the pretty eye specialist took a little extra time to clear us. Somehow the eyes could never focus on her lens when she'd bend over to look into our eyes but would invariably stray to her plunging neckline!! We'd been warned about the medical specialist ... he was very stern and accepted no nonsense. So there we were - 5 of us, standing in our birth suits in front of him - waiting for our turn to bend in front of him and cough while he squeezed and checked our family jewels! (talk about medical procedures). The procedure was going painfully smoothly till a Brigadier, accustomed to barging in without waiting for his turn, walked in with his wife. There was no where to run and no where to hide. So five young men made his wifes day by wishing her good morning the way she would have never heard it ever before - and I don't think he would have ever rushed into the Doctors room out of turn ever after that. The incident seemed to loosen up the doc a bit and as he "checked" Bisht, the doc asked him if he smoked. Without batting an eyelid, wincing in pain, Bisht blurted out "yes, I'm sure smoke would have started coming out by now". That got us off the lid. The doc laughed his head off and we got away without any more squeezy procedures which were in store!

Dad had left the decision to join entirely to me. After days of deliberation I asked him to take me to Karol Bagh. When he asked me why, I told him that I needed to buy night suits as it was mentioned in the list of things to carry along. So, that was sealed then. (He bought me a bath robe too - another mandatory thing to be taken along!!!)... :o)

First View of NDA Coming Up!!

"Kilo" shouted the Adjutant as my turn came and I became a "killer" for life. Everything in Kilo started with K. Now you people know where Ekta Kapoor got inspired from. Kill em Kut em but Kneel Knot, Killer Khalsa, Klu Klux Klan, Khas-um-khas, Kaatils, Komarades ... the list was endless! I met Dhillon outside the mess - one of the four Khalsas who were allotted Kilo Squadron for this batch! Both of us had trunks to carry and so piled one on top of the other and started walking towards Kilo. As we crossed a building with a colourful "J" written on it, three guys sitting in the lobby shouted out and called us. Very warm reception we thought. This was a nice place with warm and helpful people - I was quite sure they would help us take our trunks to wherever Kilo was. 5 minutes later we were doing push - ups, squats and running around trees and sweating like pigs! Our crime -walking while crossing the ground in front of J (Juliet) squadron - so what if we were two people, new in the academy, carrying two loaded trunks. Juilet was a sworn enemy of Kilo. While Juliet was known as Kollege, Kilo was the Kommando Squadron of the academy. Just my luck!

Killers Kill .. Killers don't Run!!

The first thing to come up was the Novices Cross Country. The route went in front of Kilo Squadron and I wasn't too comfortable tummy wise when we started running on the final day. So when I was crossing Kilo, I decided to answer natures call in the comfortable confines of my squadron. I completed the route and came in the bottom lot and was mentally prepared for some "solid" ragra after this. We had overall come 13th (out of 15) and were very dissappointed. As we gloomily entered the squadron, jalebis and namkeen greeted us. Midterm Mood (a time when you can do as you please and take all liberties which were otherwise term specific) was "ranted" to us and life was rocking .. atleast inside the squadron. It was Kilo tradition to come in double figures in cross country and we had lived up to it .. .because Killers Killed .. they didn't run!!

Do you Know Who I am!!!

If you are not sure who you are, how could I be?? So this guy came whistling on a sparkling new cycle, looking all important. As we crossed him, we continued to talk amongst us which must have hurt his ego.. How dare an Ikkeeee talk in his august presence!! Sacrilege! He stopped us and shouted at the top of his voice "Khalsa! How dare you talk in front of me!! Do you who I am?". Well, I sure didn't. So I whispered to Chahal (who was standing next to me) if he knew who this guy was. Chahal, in one of his moods retorted, "Menu kee pata, ehnoo puchhle" (How would I know - you ask him only)! I think it was a little too much for his celebrity ego to digest! Just imagine someone not recognising Amitabh Bachchan in India!! Anyways, he told us to note the alphabet behind his cycle and ask our appointment incharge to meet him and cycled off (no longer whistling). We happily told our cadet incharge about the incident. That night when I got up to go to the loo at 1, the poor fellow was climbing the stairs wearing a big pack on his back and looking as if he had just come after taking a dip in the swimming pool. PT trophy was a tradition in Kilo ... no wonder these people trained so hard....

By the way, till the third term, cadets were more or less the stress busters of the squadron. Whoever wanted whenever to do whatever to them could get away with it. So it was Ikk"eeeee", Duk"eeee" and Tik"eeee" with the "eee" signifying shrieks of agony. After the third term one started enjoying the finer things in life, like sleeping in shorts, coming out of your cabin with only a towel under your bath robe or having a music system in your room - of course the volume was dictated by the term you were in or being privileged to wear sneakers instead of "Kelachandra" canvas shoes for games! And so after the third term "aaaah" was suffixed - chauk"aaah", panj"aaah", chhakk"aaaaaahhhhh" - the "aahs" signifying pleasure and satisfaction.

Table Sessions

Everything in NDA had a tradition or so it seemed. Every Ikk"eee" had to sit next to a tikk"eeee" - who would teach him the finer aspects of table manners. So Kilo, again to my good luck, had a tradition of ragging on the table too! Before I learnt how to drink soup, I learnt to make a square meal with it! Take some soup in your soup spoon and make imaginary squares in the air!! After every square, pour that soup back into the dish and fill it up afresh to make fresher squares.... for the food must always be fresh! This was interspersed with general knowledge questions - no, nothing related to the country or foreign affairs but things like "Why is the Ashoka Pillar red?", "How many trees in front of the mess?", "How many swords in the mess?", "How many rolls possible in the 1st floor corridor of a squadron?", "How many tiles in a room?" and the list was endless!

Soon the sardar instincts took over and inspite of the tikk"eee" shouting on the table, we'd hog as much as possible and then get punished later. One night after a particularly fulfilling dinner, as I stood outside waiting for three more people to come (you could go from one place to another only in groups of four or more - called a squad), a Sergeant Tanwar of I (India) Squadron called me and told me to run around a tree. He didn't seem to be too impressed with my running as I came jogging back and gave me an even longer route which went close to my squadron. As I was approaching the turning point there was a power failure and the whole place went dark. Seizing initiative, I sprinted inside my squadron and went off to sleep. In the meantime, Dhillon - another sardar of my squadron - finished his dinner and stepped out to wait for a squad. Imagine the Sergeant's surprise when he saw the Khalsa whom he'd sent to run around the tree standing next to him waiting to go to his squadron! Dhillon came back at 1230 that night - wet like he too had had a bath with his clothes on!

10 Meters Jump!!!

The only exposure I'd had to swimming was with a tube in a pool where my feet could touch the ground. 25 meters was the mandatory limit for first term and I was like solid lead in the pool. The ustaad who'd teach us was particularly fond of taking the learner to the deep end and then pulling his leg down to make him get over his fear of water. Reasons for not entering the pool varied from swollen privates to father sick at home to skin infections.... anything one could think of to get away from him. To my misfortune, one day I came under his scanner. As my turn approached, I excused myself saying that I had an upset stomach and went to the loo. Once inside I quietly picked up my belongings, jumped out of the window and ran back to the squadron. As I reached my room I was really ashamed of the escapist attitude adopted and decided to go back the same way. In the meantime alarm bells went off when I didn't return to the pool after such a long time. A search was launched for me and when I wasn't found, everyone was about to go back. Imagine their surprise when I stepped out of the bathroom which they'd just checked and found empty. In all this chaos I got saved from the drowning glory of Ustaad Panigrahi and was perhaps the only cadet to learn swimming without having drunk water in the pool.

I had barely managed to cross one obstacle when the second one popped up. The 10 meter jump. Every term all the cadets had to jump from the 10 meter high platform. While standing on top of the 10 meter diving board, the pool below would look like a match box. On top of it I knew someone who had dived and fallen outside - the episode left him paralyzed for life (God bless his soul). Three days before the jump, all conversations would get highjacked around stories of people who had not jumped the right way and burst their family jewels or who could not come back to the surface and had to be fished out. Seniors would counsel juniors on how they should be brave and not feel scared of the jump. The hype built around the whole affair made it even more fearsome! While waiting on top, some would box the air to get the adrenalin flowing, some would pray and some keep asking the one behind to move ahead till there was no one left behind. But jump each one would have to. There were the ones like Suraj who tried to turn the jump into a dive and landed flat on their tummy and then had a red, aching front for days, or some who jumped with their legs open and came out with blood seeping out of their trunks when they stepped out of the pool. Some wondered why the water wasn't coming and looked down to see and never made that mistake again. Yet others like Motilal refused to jump and when an officer tried to push them down, they took him along in his full uniform. Others like me bragged about it when they went home while swimming with their dad and had to do it for him and his friends to see! They learnt to keep their mouths shut. The jump would start from "dukki" term. The ritual was akin to a ghoulish KKK ritual. Pin drop silence. Hundreds of cadets sitting by the poolside being lined up one by one and asked to jump like Another Brick in the Wall. In my "dukki" term, I managed to get into the academy golf team. It had its own privileges like simpler PT tests, late breakfast and outings. During one such 10 m jump, I was also required to be at the golf course. I hoped like hell that the officer in charge would see me at the swimming pool and ask me to go to the golf course instead. As I fidgeted around, my prayers were answered and he spotted me shouting out in surprise as to what I was doing there when I was supposed to be at the Golf course. My joy knew no bounds - my plan had worked. As I prepared to leave, he dropped the bomb shell. "On the board before you leave". No one had jumped till now! The whole battalion was looking at me. Some sneering, some laughing and none feeling pity - thats the way NDA is... I started the Battalion jump in my dukki term!

Escape and Evasion

Most of the junior terms went into mastering "management" and escape and evasion. The aim was to save yourself today - tomorrow will be faced tomorrow .... and tomorrow never comes!! The first three terms were a sophisticated version of "hide and seek". We hid and the seniors seeked! It started in the first term when we were being hit around during a routine night ragging session in the loo. After an hour or so, as we rolled aroung under showers dripping alternate cold and boiling water, Jain suggested that I faint and he'll carry me back to the cabin! So it was decided. I stopped moving and lay down. Jain immediately sounded the alarm that I'd fainted. Not ready to give in so easily, my caring seniors threw boiling water on me - but they'd met their match - I didn't move. I was taken away to a cabin closeby. As we huddled around our anger grew at being manhandled so badly. So we took out rods and came out shouting - ready to beat up the seniors. The mutiny had started....... and crushed within minutes!! We were rolling again although after a promise that we wouldn't be touched again.... As they say, "When rape is inevitable, might as well enjoy it"!!

And after that - enjoy we did . I learnt to hide in the almirah, inside my trunk, to put a hanky on my head and pretend to be a bag in a corner, lock our cabins and climb back in through the window... name it and we atleast attempted it!

The Golden Girls of Social Science Block

Perhaps the only good thing of the academics blocks were the lady instructors - the "golden" lining to the perpetual cloud over the miserable life of the cadets. Some like Rita would bend over your shoulder to hold the mouse and send the cadet into blissful coma. Even the healthy Meena and Beena sisters became the stuff that dreams were made of. Every computer class was spent gazing and absorbing every move of K. She would often check me for glaring at her till it became a joke in the class. Once when the class broke off she told me to clean the blackboard before leaving the room. The whole class left while I was still cleaning it. In the meantime, she switched off all the lights and came and stood right behind me. As I started to leave, K very huskily told me that the board was not clean as yet. Was this my imagination or was this my lucky day!! Something suddenly snapped, I freaked out and ran off saying that it was clean enough. We never looked each other in the eye after that. Memorable moments were also spent learning french from Ms Advani, in the chemistry lab and the workshop too. Those were good days.

And then there were the few who had the capability to send a shiver down your spine - specially in Social Science Block. Not to be deterred - some cadets even managed to get punishments from them for "giving meaningful looks"....

Periphery Hera Pheri

The Periphery had a circumference of 5 kilometers (approx) and had wild shrubs and trees growing there. It was an excellent place to hide or sleep or to get away from someone. Once when the academy was particularly "hot" and juniors were getting roggered everywhere, I decided to take the periphery route to get back to squadron. As I was crossing the lone road which intersected it, I heard a car approaching. I dashed across but was too slow. The driver, a major who was an instructor and had been nicknamed "Academy Sergeant", saw me and stopped the car. Thankfully I was some distance away and was confidently out of his reach! I had never imagined in my wildest dreams that this major would start running after me to catch me. We ran where there was no route, we ran on pathways, we ran tearing away at bushes with him screaming at the top of his lungs for the khalsa to stop - neither ready to give up! Finally youth won and I managed to give him the dodge leaving him with atleast a 4 km walk back to his car! What bliss and satisfaction!

Golfie

I had heard that the best way to escape all ragra was to join some academy team - you'd get all the spoilings of an academy team player, get passed in PT tests and if you were in the Golf team - unlimited breakfast and cold coffee on sunday mornings!!!! So, Golf it was! It wasn't so difficult getting into it since I already knew the game. Imagine Golf in the morning, a good hearty breakfast and then sleep under one of the trees in the fairways! Some tournaments were in Pune city and so you also got a chance to go out. During one of these competitions Sundaram (a team mate and senior) and I decided that we would play in civil clothes and come back to academy also in the same - something unthinkable for the lowly ranks of the ordinary cadets! So, it was decided. While returning, as we approached the gate we found Subedar Raman, the most foul mouthed and ugly drill sergeant of the academy, on duty to check people entering NDA. There was no going back now, so I walked ahead. The beard, longish hair and a put-on lousy walk helped me get by. As Sundaram crossed the ustaad, he shouted, "yeh cadet tham" (this cadet halt) and Sundaram, instead of ignoring it, stopped and was caught. Well, not willing to go through this alone, he told the ustaad that I too was a cadet and I got caught too! The next seven days we ran 5 kilometers every afternoon and cursed each other. Some friends are always there for you ...... and some make sure you are always there for them!

Night Fright

It was a dark gloomy night!!! Dark because I'd just washed my hair - they would keep coming in front of my eyes and because of the black colour of my bath robe. Gloomy because all the juniors were being ragged in the toilets!!!! Just as I was about to drift into dreamland, I was woken up by a junior asking me to come to the toilet where the "session" - as these ragging periods were called, was going on. A cadet was missing - hiding somewhere in some cabin and so this was a task for "the specialist". After about two hours of sneaking into cabins through windows and peeping in through wire meshes, I gave up. I'd searched everywhere - under the stairs, in the backyard, in the bushes, in each and every cabin - much to the annoyance of some who were going through "nice" magazines with a torchlight and shared maggi with some who were having a midnight snack - but not found Durgapal - the missing ikk"eeee". Dejected, I walked back to the toilet and reported my failure to my seniors. I was sent back to my room after being admonished and warned to improve my hunting skills. Just as I was about to drift off, a junior again knocked on my door and told me that I'd been called to the toilet again. I cursed Durgapal and wearing my bath robe trudged back to the toilet. There was Durgapal - huddled in one corner - shivering, red eyed and frothing in the mouth!!! He'd been found in the toilet above in one of the loo's in this state. After a lot of mollycoddling Durgapal's story of his encounter with a species of a different kind came out. As he was climbing the stairs to the 1st floor he saw a wild black creature with long hair and red eyes! The creature would sometimes climb walls and sometimes vanish into them. Scared to death, Durgapal ran to the top floor but to his shock the creature followed him there too. He hid in the toilet and as he looked up at the ceiling - the creature was smiling at him - after which he blanked out!! Now, we all knew who this wall climbing "wild creature with long hair and red eyes" was.....! Sardars truly are a species apart and after this I was never given such mundane jobs...

End of Term

Every end of term, from the third term onwards, the whole academy would participate in the march past for the passing out cadets!! To my misfortune, my drill was so good that in my second term itself, I was made a part of this contingent!! So while my coursemates would be standing on the mast smiling away, I would be marching to the drum and spit mixed ear deafening shouts of the drill sergeant. They too were from a different world. Their demands were simple - when the foot stamps - it should make the clock tower fall down, deafen the ears of the Adjutant, break the tarmac beneath.... The dig while marching should be so deep that water should flow out of the earth, form a pond with frogs which should die because of the sound of the march!! And we tried till we were wet - not from the water of the pond but thanks to the sweat which poured out of every pore in our skins!! And there were my dear coursemates smiling away, standing on the mast or participating in PT displays forming pretty flowers with colourful placards and ribbons! Well, I made a vow that I'd march only for my own passing out after this term. So the next term I walked on stilts - new display introduced!! The term after that I was part of the nautanki (dramatics) team and this continued till I almost missed my own passing out too!!

Destiny

Before I knew it, the sixth term was midway and I was in the middle of my Naval service subjects, mastering da-da-dit-da (morse code) - ready to become a "nevala" or a "naval dope"!! On an OJT trip to the naval dockyards in Bombay, while on a ship, I wondered if my free spirit could be confined to the limits of a ship. As I looked at my instructors and other naval officers - I only saw hard working and tensed up faces who were struggling from one milestone to another. On the other hand the men in olive were the happy ones - on a peace posting after years in field - they were living up the good life. This was the kind of life I wanted - happy, with no tensions and free! So I put up an application asking for my service to be changed to Army - chaos followed. I was interviewed by the Commandant - a naval officer (and golfer, who also went on to become the Naval Chief later) and called for a whole lot of interviews and discussions. During one of these discussions, the whole naval fraternity was called and I was asked by Grewal - the Naval Chief Instructor, why I wanted to join the Army and leave the Navy. We sparred for some time with basic replies like leading men into battle, adventure, fighting for the country, etc, etc. After some time, still unconvinced, he ran out of patience and asked me to tell the truth. Having run out of excuses, I shot back asking him how many of his officers in that room were actually happy. A hushed silence fell upon the room. I quoted incidents in which naval instructors were involved in embarassing acts in the academy and in contrast asked him to name one such incident involving army officers - who seemed to be really happy and enjoying life. Not too amused at my reply, Garry shouted back, "Thats because they live in Kupwara and Dimapur and compare themselves to the headman of that village while my officers live in Bombay and Chennai and compare themselves to Tata's and Birlas". I got up from my chair, all eyes on me, the silence deafening, and said, "But at the end of the day, even though they are in Kupwara - they are happy sir, while these people are not". The next day I was a Pongo - an army cadet!

After years of passing out, when I look back now and remember all the silly things I'd done and the not-so-silly ragging I'd faced, I remember my Alma Mater with fondness. Each corner and stone there stretching from the farthest corner of the Khadakwasla lake where my sail boat would get stuck so many times, to the wall of Garware estate which we would try to peep over for he was supposed to have a pretty daughter, from the dhobi ghat in Khandwa used so commonly to go on FL, to the dhaba that we'd trek 10 kilometers to have butter chicken in Pirangut, are memories which I'll cherish forever. Memories of friends who've stood by me in thick and thin, friends who achieved what every soldier dreams of for his motherland, friends who may have lost touch with me but will always remain in my fondest of memories. Friends forever .......

Sewa Parmo Dharma

http://nda.nic.in/

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BXdAFfjhB7E

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ayDIfP6OtDw&feature=related

My First Love...........

Ok! After reading "Fate" someone politely reminded me that I'd left out my first love, purposely - obviously due to sentimental reasons .. ;o)..! And to top it all, my first love also read it and took offence. So, this goes out for my first love .... (only hope my wife doesn't take offence to this now .... too much "offence", no? Why don't people love more? And now don't say, "Wasn't 5 times enough?" ...(actually there were more.... ) :o)

Chalo, here goes! Had just finished with my Xth and had put in my best (very unlike me, who is a complete shammer!) and scored very nice marks (my dad was shocked and gave it off to the person who got my marks for having noted down someone else's marks) - very nice according to my standards, below average according to my brothers standards and outstanding according to the standards that dad expected of me! So, basically it was party time! Here I was - all of 15 years of age ... ready to take on the world .....and without a girl! What could be worse! So I chanced to go to Deogarh (one of Shivji's something something) and prayed to the Lord to grant me my jeevan saathi! And Lo Behold! The Gods were pleased - a day after I landed home came this beautiful girl alongwith her parents to "call on" us! She was new in town -I took it on from there .... !

We met a couple of times and used to talk a lot on the phone (which I later came to know was a bigger hit than the 9 o'clock serial in the telephone exchange!!). So one night I confessed my love to her. I think it was something like, "I love you" and before I could ask her if she did too, she left! She left me standing there and went home! There I was, standing in the middle of the road, outside her house, looking at the moon and wondering if I'd gone wrong somewhere. My friend hiding in the bush closeby (for moral support) came out and gave me a kick! 5 minutes later I was ringing her bell and giving her mom some story about the school! Managed to get her out and she admitted that she loved me too! The stars suddenly shone brighter and the moon dazzled or was it her smile! The winds swayed to a music straight out of my heart and flowers bloomed as if it were spring, spreading their fragrance or was it the perfume she wore! (before my wife kicks me, let me continue). So we were officially "boyfriend and girlfriend"! We continued to enthrall the audience in the telephone exchange with our sweet nothings :o) on the telephone! I'd go to her house to "help her out with her studies" when her Dad would go to office and Mom to school! Just that once when we were helping out each other, her Dad landed up. I jumped out of her balcony like the cow jumped over the moon (she used to stay on the first floor) and fled! Thankfully he didn't come to know! The adventurous Sindbad somewhere inside got the better of me and I landed up in her house again! And so did her Dad! It was slightly difficult convincing him that we were studying but I think, for her sake, he bought the story. Nice guy!

Anyways, we decided to lay off my antics for some time after that. So after a long break (I think three days!!!), I gave her a call and told her that I was coming to meet her that night at midnight (just for the effect of it and not coz i am a sardar!). So at 11:30 that night I left my house dressed in navy blue (I didn't have anything in black), armed with a table knife to ward off any other night riders like me! And my mom tried to solve the mystery of the missing khisko knife for the next two weeks, I lost it on my way back).

After walking across a church and graveyard (Britishers - 1857) which would give the bravest of the brave creeps, I reached her house at dot 11:45 and started to climb the pipe outside her window! Just as I managed to reach the ledge outside her window, the midnight show at the theatre closeby got over and there I was - standing against a typical whitewashed "white" wall of government accomodation in "navy blue" praying to all the Gods I knew to hide me somehow from the seemingly endless sea of people! Miracles do happen and after the last guy left (the movie must have been really bad or God would have actually held their chins straight!) I knocked at her window. As soon as she saw someone outside her window she shrieked! Thankfully before her dad came to the room I was able to convince her that it actually was me and not some burgular. So, she gave some story to her dad about ..... (don't quite remember, if you're reading this please leave a reply in the comments) something and he left! Our romance spoke through the grills and the mosquito mesh outside her window and she begged me to leave! So much for my 20 minute walk through the graveyard! Anyways, I left and our "dates" continued for some time till her dad got posted out! The postal department took over where the telephone exchange left till one fine day she vanished! Just like that. Damn the postal department! (Actually not so bad also coz I later met so many other nice people and my wife too - I better make up!).

.

.

Kahani abhi baaki hai mere dost! We met again zillions of years later at a golf course. I'd just won a tournament and failed to recognize her! So much for my first love!

Thats a different story that my wife was standing next to me and also that we are good friends now!

A Dream .......

I have a dream ... no.... nothing like "of a country where men will not be judged from the colour of their skin but by their hearts" ... am only human! Martin was more ..

Years ago, a fathers happiness moved a son to join what he hated....... years later, as life progressed as did his family .. what was a passion turned into a profession! Reasoning and logic took over where once feelings and passion ruled! And was born the dream.....

I dream that one day when my son chooses his destiny he will not have to choose it to make a living but to choose a way of life! I dream that my generations to come will not go through what I have for living a life that I am - they will "live" life and not compromise! I dream that they will have only to give and nothing to take! I dream of a world for them where there are no desires but only fulfilment! I dream that they will share the same compassion and love that I took a harsher route to reach without going through the hardships that I did! I dream that they will dream of their future and not fight out their "today"! I dream of a legacy and life for them that my forefathers lived .. I may have been at the bottom of the cycle but the wheel must rotate and the rise will come! I dream of that rise for them! I dream that they reflect on mistakes that their fathers and forefathers made and learn from them! I dream of a tomorrow where I can sit in my garden and play with my grandchildren! I dream of them and their lives to come! I dream that they love their ancestors the same way I do! I dream that I live to see and experience that love! I dream that one day when I lie counting my last breaths, I can reflect upon and feel proud of what I did and what I leave behind! I dream that what I leave behind will be a legacy and not a liability!

I dream ...... I dream .....

........and pray that God gives me the strength and courage to fulfill my dreams! For what use is a dream if it is not realised!

Sai....

Once during the time that followed our "episode" in Leh and before we became "man & woman", my love came to visit me in Devlali. So we borrowed a bike from a friend and decided to make a trip to Shirdi to seek baba's blessings! The trip was fun and we had a nice darshan thanks to the VIP passes that the fauj affords you. On our way back it started to rain.. and we took shelter under a tree. Soon it began to grow dark and since we didn't want to be struck in the middle of no where in the dark we decided to proceed in the dark. But the bike won't start! My friend had not kept any tools in the bike so I couldn't tinker around also. In a spot, we started pushing the bike hoping to find atleast some civilisation near by. In our various experiments to start the machine, I hurt my leg and it started to bleed. We came across a slope which went down to a ramshakle hut and so we pushed it down the slope hoping to start it with the momentum but the damn thing was way too stubborn. So we gave up and took shelter under that thatched hut. A guy came out and offered a towel, a lady followed (we later came to know that she was his sister) and offered to take Di inside to change and dry up.

I asked him if there was any mechanic near by and it turned out that he himself was one!!! He repaired our bike while we sipped warm tea and dried ourselves... We thanked him and left soon after that and reached home safely.

The next time we visited Shirdi, I had my own car and wanted to stop by our friends house and thank him for all his help. Somehow, then and during many trips we made after that, we could never locate that house......

Then and during many other incidents Baba touched our lives and continues to do so .... whether when it was my son who was seriously ill, his voice would say, " Why worry when i am looking after him?" or when our marriage went through a rough patch or the many trials that anyone faces in his day to day life, He was and is there! Always telling me to work hard and leave the rest to him!

God and Religion

Long long ago when lightening struck somewhere, the cave man was frightened and so worshiped the rain god so that there maybe rain and not thunder. Droughts further compounded the problem! Then there was fire to burn and cook - water to drink and sweep away villages during floods and a whole lot of elements which arose from need and fear to become supernatural and in some civilisations - superhuman! Thus arose God - in the form many perceive even today - something which was to be appeased and feared ...... and not used to show the correct path when in need.
Over the ages many a great saint came and tried to show the correct path , they succeeded while they were there but after they left with full faith in their followers, greed and lust for power took over again and everything was back to square one!
So started the trend of leaving manuscripts - something that could be left in black and white. But that too was interpretted to ones advantage and convenience.....

So what is the correct path ... who is God ... what is right and what is wrong? How do i correct myself?
Well, here goes ......
The correct path is the path of truth (not righteousness or religion... we haven't discussed it as yet)...... Truth - which you believe in. Truth - which doesn't hurt anyone. Truth - which does not make you feel ashamed of anything or make you justify your actions to yourself! Lets limit the correct path to this as of now....

Who is God? God is you and god is me! God is the good in you and the good in me. God is the quality in you that inspires me and gives me strength ... to either follow what you are doing or avoid it! So whatever you do, there is God in you! We just have to see , feel and embrace it! If God were in a stone then it wouldn't stand mute to happenings .... the story behind the stone is where God lies ... draw inspiration from it and God will be there helping you help yourself! God is not in the book, for the printing press and the beed which holds it would be the luckiest of all... God is in what is written in the book.
So don't waste time or effort bathing the stone with milk or covering the book with satin or silk! But when you bow before it , bow before the values that it teaches and imbibe them. Ask not God to help you out but to make you strong enough to help yourself! Draw inspiration from God. Take god everywhere... take him to your office (if a statue there helps you to remember NOT him but his values, place it there .. choose whoever you like the best ... we have hundreds to choose from!). Take him everywhere (and i mean everywhere) for what is hidden from him! What do you have to be ashamed of or hide? What is there to despise or love - for everything is him or his creation! Love everything and you have loved him!

Lastly, have faith in him, in his teachings and his powers (which he wants you to use) and you will find miracles happening! If you want something, have faith (and i mean complete and blind faith) and it will be yours. Have faith in God and the values that he inspires in you, so when you have faith in him, you actually have faith in yourself and work towards it with full honesty and truthfullness - it will happen! As my wife says, if you will something to happen bad enough - the whole universe conspires to make it happen!

So we have three things with us - Truth , Love and Faith! Three simple things - and God is yours and you are his!
So, some people tell me that we are human and there are naturally going to be desires, wants and greed! I say what is wrong with that! Fulfill all your desires - money, sex, power - whatever you dream of! But use the honest (or truthful) means for it! Its not that if you use the wrong means you will not attain God - you still will - someday! Its just that you will be at peace much sooner if you choose the other path ..... and the pleasure that peace gives you is much greater than power, money or sex!
So, there are two paths (as always) - one which is tough and one which is easy! The tougher one asks you to discipline yourself and preaches contentment and satisfaction within ones means - you reach the goal faster and happier in this! The easier one asks you to run after all that you desire - have your fill of them all (as we have avasthas in the vedas or what Osho in recent times tried) and then come back to where the first path led. If you are at the crossing or the starting point of the two paths - you may find the second one better - for atleast you sampled and had a fill of all that is there to enjoy in this world. But as much as you will enjoy, you will find tougher to get back to that point where God is - for you have to reach that point! The first path also wants you to enjoy everything but in a disciplined and controlled manner - the choice is yours! For whatever you do - it will be nullified or paid for - in terms of good or bad in this life itself!

So, its as simple as can be .. follow this and you have attained peace ... contentment ... and God!

God Bless!

(for all my readers from the fairer sex .... "him" has just been used for easier writing purposes!) God is above it all ... so........... please bear with me :o)

Love....

What is love.......?

Is love the understanding betweeen two people when they don't have to speak to be understood? Is love the feeling that engulfs you when you are separated from someone? Is love the things (which later on seem damn silly) that you do for someone to make him/her feel special? Is it the pain that is left behind when someone is annoyed and leaves you alone? Maybe love is the protectiveness and care that you shower on someone..... or the void in life without him/her....
Is being possessive about someone also love? Maybe love is when you place his/her desires ahead of your own. Maybe love is that caring touch, the innocent kiss, the endearing words wispered in your ears or the tears wept in sorrow.... Maybe love is when you feel you could conquer the whole world for someone. Maybe it is when you are ready to break old ties to forge newer ones. Maybe it is remembering each night spent in each others arms, each bus ride or movie show. Maybe loves is when you know that a loved one is unwell or in a spot without having spoken to him/her and the uneasy feeling that follows. Maybe it is talking with each other for hours in a day or that one small message which doesn't say anything but conveys everything. Maybe it is that gift you want to get someone even if it means spoiling your budget for the whole month. Maybe it is when you want each day to end after you've heard someone and you know that they are fine. Maybe it is the happiness you feel when you see your loved one happy .... even if with someone else....... for love is unconditional and not based of "ifs" and "buts" - Its based on "always" and "forevers" irrespective of what the consequences and the repurcussions are, irrespective of whether the other person loves you or hurts you, irrespective of what the world thinks about you, him/her and the two of you.

Fate

In 1993, I cleared my 10th and wanted to take up commerce in 11th. The school did not have commerce stream in it. I took up science.
Shifted to Delhi in 1994 and took special permission from CBSE for Bio with ECONOMICS!!! The school couldn't accomodate my periods!
Cleared the admission to College of Business Studies, New Delhi for BBA. Chose to join army instead.
Joined a correspondence course for MBA in 2008. Well, lets see if this attempt succeeds or fate.....


Hated army..... Used to dissuade everyone from joining it. Would laugh at (then cadet) Anuj Nayyar whenever he would come on leave that he'd joined a useless organisation. Little did I know that one fateful day in Dec I would be buying stuff at the Gole Market in NDA alongwith him! (He later died in the Kargil Conflict). So, joined NDA as a Naval Cadet with the 95th course.
The second attempt for NDA exam, applied for Army with the 96th course.
Got relegated to the 96th course in 1996. Was adamant that would still join the Navy though a lot of wellwishers and friends asked me to change over to Army then. Refused!
1999, three months before passing out, applied for change of service to Army. Faught with the highest level in NDA for the same. Was commissioned in the olive in 2000! Fate........?



Love struck in college but the girl was being pressurised to get married and I was too chicken to commit....... Fell in love the second time with this terrific girl while in NDA. She refused ..... Got over it (and some attempts from her side to reconcile) and fell in love again.... this time with this wonderful, beautiful girl who was an engineering student. Families played spoilsport and I backed out. (wonder if she's forgiven me....)
Met my life on the rebound! All attempts to persuade family failed and asked her to come to Leh. It was month end and we were broke....... The airlines chipped in and offered a free ticket in lieu of miles earned. Was deputed to go to Leh (from Kargil) for two days. But she missed her flight .... some tears and a sob story about a husband in hospital from a shelling wound later, she was running down the tarmac at Delhi airport to catch the flight.
Went to every possible place of worship to get married .... from a gurudwara to a buddhist monastry with many Shiva and Kali temples thrown in! Everyone refused.....
Finally a Sikh Sabha (in Leh of all the places) agreed to marry us! We got married (28 Sep 2001) and she caught the next flight back. The marriage was only a message to everyone of our committment and love for each other. We didn't live together for almost two years till the marriage was formally solemnised in Mar 2003 (one and a half years after our supposed marriage in Leh) and are happily married now! Fate..........................?


(more to come......)

For My Love....

This place is beautiful....... tea plantations on lush green rolling hills. The sun peeping through the clouds painting the countryside in different hues of green....
Birds chirping amongst the trees and bushes... dew drops lend a magical touch to the sunlight.
Everything is perfect................ almost!
Theres just one thing missing in this paradise..... YOU!

Missing you sweets and wish you were here.

(While training at CITS, Tezpur!)

Rishte

kyun kabhi kabhi kissi se kuchh sun-ne ko dil taras jaata hai? kyun kaano mein kissi ki aawaaz goonjti hai...? kya kissi se kuchh apeksha rakhna jayaz hai? insaan kissi ke liye kiss hadd tak jaa sakta hai? kya do logon ke beech mein hadein bhi hoti hain? agar haan toh yeh kaise rishte....? aur agar nahin toh rishton mein shartein kyun hoti hain? aur agar yeh galat hai toh jiss rishte mein shartein ho woh kya kehlaaye ga? agar kissi ko samjhaane ke bawajood aapki bhawanaon ki kadr na ho toh kya aisi bhawnaon ko khatam nahi kar dena chahiye?

aisa kyun hota hai ke jab kissi ke saath ki zaroorat ho tab woh sab se door hote hain?
faasle itne kyun hote hain? kyun koyee jab chahe tab kissi se ussi pal mil nahi sakta? kyun itne apno ke hote hue bhi kissi aur ki yaad aati hai? kyun inn "apno" ko chhoone se ghabrata hai dil? kya yeh apne hi hote hain yaan apno ki paribhasha kuchh aur hi hai? kyun dil kissi se kuchh kehna chahta hai lekin kabhi keh nahi paata? kya jisse woh kehna chahta hai woh sab samajh leta hai? kyun bina kahe hi kayee lafz aur khayaal bayaan ho jaate hain? kya joh inhe samajh lete hein woh "apne" hote hain? aur agar woh "apne" hain toh woh mujhse itna door kyun hain? aur joh mere paas hain aur "apne" kehlate hain ...... woh kaun hain?

sawaal.....

aaj na jaane kyun dil ne poochha ke zindage kaun sa khel khel rahi hai.......

yeh kiss ki laraee lar rahe hain? kyun khoon behta hai?

kya aapne kabhi khoon dekha hai? kissi ke shareer se behta hua khoon....... paani aur khoon mein sirif rang ka antar..... kissi din yeh khoon humara yaan humare saathi ka bhi ho sakta hai.....agar haan toh hum iss mein saathi kyun hain? kya yeh sahi hai? kya yeh humara mustaqbil hai? kya humari taqdeer mein yehi likha hai? kya kamyaabi paane mein insaan itna andha ho jaata hai ke usse kissi ki jaan ki ahmiyat nahi rehti? kya yeh kamyaabi hai? kya hum iss ke peechhe bhaag rahe hain? aur agar yeh hi humari manzil hai toh kya hum iss manzil ko paana bhi chahte hain? aaj phir iss zindagi aur iss mein chal rahe iss chakravyuh parr sawaal utthe.... yeh arjun se hum abhimanyuh kabb bann gaye ..............



aur agar yeh mahabharat hi hai toh humara saarthi kahan hai.............