The Feathered Veteran

The Feathered Veteran

At the Coffee Café of Airawat CSD, Patiala, amid the familiar clatter of cups and the comforting hiss of the coffee machine, lives a character no one forgets after meeting her once. She has no nameplate, no rank badges, and no official posting order—yet she is as permanent a fixture as the counter itself. A single-legged common myna, she is the café’s most respected resident and, by unanimous consent of the soldiers, a veteran of Airawat Division.

Her entry is always dramatic. One moment you are seated, eyes fixed on the counter, waiting for the lady-in-charge to call out your coffee. The next moment—without footsteps, without warning—she appears beside your table. Not fluttering, not nervous, but composed, as if she has checked the attendance register and found you duly present. She hops once, balances perfectly, and settles down. The message is unmistakable: I am waiting too.

She waits patiently, head cocked, eyes sharp. Those eyes—large, expressive, deer-like—are framed by a striking yellow patch that gives her an alert, almost ceremonial look. Her beak is a precision instrument. When a crumb from your samosa finally drops, she locks on with the focus of a trained marksman. One swift peck. Direct hit. No wasted motion. The word “miss” clearly never made it into her vocabulary.

Her missing leg, far from defining her, seems irrelevant in the way she carries herself. There is no self-pity, no hesitation—only balance earned through experience. Among the soldiers, it is jokingly said that she draws a “disability pension,” paid daily in crumbs, biscuits, and affection. And like all seasoned veterans, she has mastered the art of survival without complaint.

What makes her extraordinary is her trust. She eats without fear, inches away from boots and uniforms, moving freely among humans she considers her own. Soldiers returning tired from duty find her waiting, offering silent companionship. Some talk to her, some smile at her, and some—quite seriously—whisper their wishes to her while placing a choice morsel nearby. Faith, after all, often finds unusual homes.

She responds not with flight, but with eye contact. She studies faces as if recognizing old comrades, holding each gaze a second longer than expected. In that quiet exchange, something softens. Stress loosens its grip. The weight of orders, deadlines, and responsibilities lifts, if only briefly.

Throughout the day, she patrols the café, greeting newcomers, supervising tables, and reminding everyone that courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes, it hops.

Her presence has become more than a curiosity. Customers linger longer. Conversations slow. Laughter comes easier. In a space designed for quick refreshments, she has introduced an unexpected pause—a moment of reflection.

She is not disabled; she is differently abled. She has adapted, endured, and found her place without demanding sympathy. In her small, feathered form lies a powerful lesson: survival is not about perfection, but resilience.

Perhaps that is why soldiers understand her so well. They, more than most, recognize quiet bravery. They know that service is not limited by form or species. And so, in the Coffee Café of Airawat CSD, a one-legged myna stands tall—an unspoken reminder that dignity, courage, and belonging are earned not by how we look, but by how steadfastly we carry on.

The Sensuous Bet

 THE SENSUOUS BET

It was Bidar, a beautiful place both from climate and scenic point of view at the border of Andhra, Maharashtra and Karnataka where our Engineering college was located. We hailed from the third batch as the college had just started afresh. The infrastructure lacked a few important buildings which were yet to be constructed. A makeshift hostel on a temporary basis was thus made functional in the Gurudwara complex itself. It was a four storeyed building in which the ground floor had rooms meant for the pilgrims, the first floor for the senior students, the second floor for the first year students and the third floor which had only three rooms for the Asst warden and two rooms on either side of his room. Each floor had 25 rooms each. I being a second year student was on the 1st Floor with my room partner, Harpal Singh who was from Nagpur.

Immediately opposite to our building facing us was yet another one which though smaller in size had the same no of floors in it. It accommodated the office staff like Warden, teachers and librarian. The top floor of it was converted into a similar kind of hostel for girls like ours. There was a road passing in between the two hostels which descended from a hill about 30metres high finally leading into the valley and terminating at the place where the Sikh historic Gurudwara, ‘Nanak Jhira’ was actually located. The top floors of both the hostels were nearly at the same level.

The red lateritte soil of Bidar with the tombs of Muslim Peers located near the Gurudwara campus surrounded by the cluster of trees and green fields behind it gave a spectacular sight to the tourists who came for seeking mental solace. The setting sun in the clear blue sky with radiating red streaks in the sky erupting from the horizon was yet another wonder to watch from our hostel terrace.

Adjacent to the main temple guest rooms which were just on the left side of the temple was a beautiful orchard with a tube well spread to 4 hectares: A paradise with perfect silence except for the sound of birds and the tube well water falling in the drain one could hear. I often visited this orchard with my friends to study when had matter to learn by heart as found it a perfect place for that with no one to disturb. When tired would relax on the bed sheet which we carried alongwith under the tree over the soft grass. It was more like a picnic outing combined with studies as we had snacks and waterbottle also with us.

The only disadvantage of staying in the hostel was pedalling the long distance of 10kms to and fro which we had to repeat twice as returned for lunch also. The ascent of climbing the hill further added to the degree of difficulty to the long route. The journey to college started everyday dragging the bicycles while we ascended the hill making a total pedalling of 20 kms daily. Some of us dozed off in the college lecture after mid day meal when the subject was theoretical.

After returning from the college we had a catnap to refresh ourselves, visited the Gurudwara for the prayers in the evenings, sat down for a cup of tea in the Dhaba (A makeshift hotel where good quality punjabi food is prepared including tea and snacks) located just outside our hostel and then off to our studies. We frequented the place during our breaktime in the studies to refresh ourselves with pakoras (a Punjabi snack with gramflour fried in oil) and tea. On Sundays we had the aaloo ka parantha (potato chapatti) at the same place.

The study sessions continued till late nights. The study style varied from individual to individual. Some carried on till late after starting at 9 pm while some slept immediately after the dinner and commenced their sessions from 1 am to continue till 5 in the morning. As a result of this one or the other hostel light always remained switched on for nearly the whole night. Majority of the lights were off by 1 am.

Lot of tourists visited that place and generally stayed in our hostel premises. Thus interaction with them could not be avoided especially at the Dhaba during the tea time. Apart from having tea to refresh themselves the students visited their favourite place to have a good look at the fairer sex of their age groups who came as tourists from all over the world. They kept ordering tea and snacks recurringly to prolong their sitting sessions unknowingly contributing to the Dhabawalla’s profit.

Our college hardly had any girl students barring a few from Delhi, Punjab and some south Indians who all resided in the girl’s hostel opposite us. They always maintained a distance from boys and seldom mixed up with the students not belonging to their discipline. None of them appeared to be fashionable probably due to the religious atmosphere prevailing at that place but still looked graceful with their Dupatta (veil) covering their heads.

One amongst them, Amrita Khanna was fair coloured, slim and reasonably tall girl who did exhibit some signs of modernity and had a bit of sex appeal which was enough to attract any guy due to scarce demand of the fairer sex.

The girl’s hostel had a balcony towards us which could accommodate four to five of them who sat in the evenings on their chairs facing our hostel windows. They acted like ‘Manekas’ and distracted our studies especially those whose study tables faced the window. It resulted into a showing off business on both the sides. Come evenings, the windows of the rooms opened automatically where smartly dressed boys made their presence felt by the girls with both holding a book and gazing each other. They even sprayed some perfume knowing fully well that the smell of the same would hardly reach a few feet away from their rooms and then vanish outside the window not reaching any of the girls sitting in the balcony. Some switched on their modified music systems which they had made by placing the speaker on the top of an empty Ghara (mud pot used for storing and keeping the water cool in summers) facing it inside to have a higher bass effect. Some could be seen doing push ups bending on the windows and so on.

The other side in the girls hostel also reciprocated accordingly. Sitting in style with partially exposed legs, showing modelling stances, open hair waving with the wind of the table fan kept near them and holding an open book in their hands. At times they sat in their night dresses which would be enough to titillate the loaded guys. In spite of all this no one still had the guts to go and speak to any of them. It was considered to be a great achievement if anyone dared to take a bold step of talking to them in front of everyone. If any one of the boys even said ‘hello’ and she would respond just by nodding he would be the hero of the day. It was not that no one had come from a co ed school but the trend was such that pairing up was not in vogue mainly due to their minority and religious atmosphere of the Gurudwara where such things were not warranted as against today’s modern atmosphere in schools and colleges.

The routine carried on as per the traditions until one day a discussion took off amongst us just a few days short of the festival of Holi (the colour festival) that it would be exciting if we put colours on the girls especially Amrita and have the sensuous touch felt.

“Is it possible?” remarked one of us while we were working on a drawing sheet which was to be submitted the next day. We generally sat together keeping our drawing boards in one of the friend’s room where we made the complicated drawings together to avoid any mistake and shared the instruments alongwith. We generally chatted whole night to keep ourselves awake as it involved long hours to finish the work.

“What’s so great in it? Have you not put colour on any girl earlier?”I asked one of my friend,

“That’s a different thing but in this prevailing atmosphere it is not so easy. Entering with colours in the girls hostel, climbing the stairs in the ‘out of bound area’, knocking their door and physically putting colours on them apart from wishing them happy holi in an area where the room of the warden is just next door and coming back in one piece intact is not an easy task” remarked Kanwaljit while holding the drafter with a pencil in his hand.

“Yes some risk is there but can be managed as it does not sound to be that difficult.” I replied.

“Does she know you?” he asked

“Not really she knows me as much as she knows you as we live right in front of her hostel. She is not from civil engineering dept but is in mechanical division as far as I know about her.”I continued.

“What if she refuses to entertain?” he said to infer what I would say next.

“Then quietly come down like a gentlemen and relax. This much embarrassment you should be able to gulp.” I replied.

“No! I don’t agree with you, it is difficult and nobody can do it” said Kanwaljit.

“Yes I also think that it is not that difficult if two of us go together” intervened Dhillon.

“Please do not fire blank rounds in air. Say yes if you can do it or else switch over to some other topic” said kanwaljit changing the cassette in the tape recorder to switch over to other song which we were listening to in the background.

“We can do it” said Dhillon sternly to Kanwaljit.

“Chal lag gayee bet”(Ok We’ll have a bet) said Kanwaljit.

Dhillon looked at me expecting me to reply as he was finding it difficult to utter the word ‘yes’ after it turned into a bet.

“Kitney ki?” (For how much?)

“One treat at Barid Shahi Hotel” replied Kanwaljit.

I thought it not to be a bad deal but there was definitely some risk involved as it was a question of embarrassment which we may have to face. Moreover if caught red handed the incident would spread like wildfire in the college. But optimistic thoughts overpowered the pessimistic ones. I saw nothing wrong in the act since had used colours while playing it with girls in our schooltime.

The case here was different and the difference was of environment. It was more of a phobia of breaking the ice. After giving a long thought I said,

“Done. Lets do it.”

Dhillon looked at me with curiosity and said,

“I’ll accompany you”

The deal was made and there were about three days left for Holi.

After the bet was made I started feeling a bit heavier than usual as the complete responsibility of breaking the ice rested on me but I consoled myself that Dhillon will be with me for the moral support so I need not worry. Now the next big question in front of me was,

How to do it?

I had to formulate a plan accordingly to cover the risk and it started to appeal to me as if I had to plan a robbery secretly.

‘No I am not going to do the wrong way’ my mind tried to convince me again and again. The best thing would be to go like an ordinary student, enter the girl’s hostel for paying best wishes to the warden. If he meets on the way say Happy Holi and return. If not carry on to the Girls hostel, do the job and quietly come back. It was safe to go to the warden’s room which was on the lower floor just below the girl’s hostel.

What if while climbing upstairs someone asks me why I was going to the girl’s hostel?

Then I would reply,

“I came to return her notebook.”

No this may not work as I may get the reply as,

“Did you not find any other day and place to return the notebook?”

What would I say then?

“Actually Amrita’s mother had sent this letter by hand while I was coming back from Amritsar so I am going to give it to her.” Will this reply work? I asked myself.

But when did you go to Amritsar? The letter could have been posted by her mother directly why particularly you.” replied my conscience.

“Hey this is mind boggling” said my brain.

“To hell with all this I will say I am going to wish her happy Holi.” replied my heart instantly.

Yes this sounds reasonable and I have to say this only if someone catches me going upstairs the chances of which were very less if I went at the appropriate time. So why think so much on this matter. The more you think about the consequences difficult it becomes to take the decision.

My mind was stabilised now as I had worked out all the options of the worst case scenarios. What would happen worst cum worst? At the most I will be asked to return back. OK I’ll come back considering it to be bad luck.

I found the truthful part as the most reasonable solution. The dictum ‘Failure is the first step to success’ would be enough to convince my mind then. Karm kiye jaa phal ki ichcha mat kar insaan (Keep working and do not bother about the results ‘O’ man) would further supplement the failure which was the last thought after which I was convinced.

The next day I kept a watch on the movements of people who entered the girl’s hostel building noting their in and out timings like conducting a traffic survey. The milkman came at 7 in the morning, the maids entered at 0830h and were out by 1000h, the teachers came out from 0800 to 0930 h being a holiday and were all in by 1100h, the girls also were out in the morning and returned back by 1200h. There was no movement except one odd person not of relevance between 1200 to 1330h after which hardly anyone came out to Dhaba for the lunch. There was stunned silence from 0330h to 5 PM in the evening as everybody rested at that time. I asked Dhillon to carry on the survey work on the next day also as there was only one more day left now. He also recorded the data and when we both matched our results we came to a conclusion that the time between 1200 and 1330h was the most suitable. Moreover going at the time of least disturbance would also be not favourable as would draw attention of everyone in case of any noise. The time period was thus set after 1200h.

The D day soon arrived. As I got up from the bed in the morning, Dhillon came to my room and wished me and Harpal ‘Happy Holi’ putting some dry colours on both of us. I was happy since it was a holiday permitting us to get up late but soon reminded me of the great act we had to perform raising my heartbeat a little. We both got up and went to the Dhaba for the good breakfast which we generally had on holidays. While we were going down Kanwaljit joined us on the way and reminded of the bet with a smile. I had nothing to say so smiled back at him while Dhillon looked at me with a deadpan face as his expression changed with my reply. I placed my hand on Dhillon’s back and said,

“So ready for the bet?”

“Yes yes I am with you but let us have the breakfast to the full for all you know what will be our state later” replied Dhillon.

“Yaar you are speaking as if we are going for a military raid in the enemy area. Why are you so tense?”I said to him hiding my own fear.

“I am not tense as I will follow you. In fact you have to think whether you are tense or not” replied Dhillon to me.

“There is nothing to worry whatever has to happen will happen, it is all written here”, I said pointing my forefinger to my head.

He only smiled back while others looked curious as if were waiting to watch the interesting match which was to begin shortly.

We reached the Dhaba and waited for the Paranthas to come while we sipped tea till then. As we were chitchatting Shamsher, one of the student who had a deadly appearance with a thick beard and projecting eyes like a typical villager arrived and joined our discussion. He lived outside the hostel in city area and had come to Gurudwara being a holiday. We all wished Holi to each other and put some dry colours inside his shirt from his collar after which he ran away from there. Everyone was in high spirits and in a mood to play pranks with each other. We soon had our breakfast and were ready for playing colours with our friends who were expected to come to our location. They soon joined us and it was dry and wet colouring thereafter inside the hostel premises which we enjoyed to our hearts content.

I however had the plan to be executed at the back of my mind which started to disturb me as the time was closing in. I soon saw Amrita with her friends coming towards the adjacent Dhaba as there were three of them in line with each other. All the seats in the hotel were occupied with hardly any place to sit due to the tourist rush. A wavering thought struck my mind,

‘Should I go put colours now itself and finish the job since she will not refuse in front of everyone nor will it look odd being a festival. It would then save me from the process of going stealthily to their hostel with a sense of fear.’ I asked Dhillon about it.

“Are you mad? If other boys see us we will be the talk of the town in the college. Moreover chain reaction of colouring her will start the moment we do the opening and what if some guy does something wrong you will be the first one to be blamed” said Dhillon sharply and with his logical appearing advice I dropped the idea.

We soon went inside our hostel. The girls also got up from there and proceeded ahead. I sat in the window of my room open while others were busy sharing lighter moments with each other. After sometime I saw the girls returning and entering their hostel. It was 11 O clock. My heart beat started to increase as the clock ticked.  We made tea in the room on our heater, had some chips and Maggie noodles. By the time we finished it was 12 noon. I asked Dhillon to get ready for the job.

“Do we have to really go?”he said hesitatingly.

I felt like abusing him and said,

“What do you mean? I could not sleep for two days due to the bet and now when the time is ripe you are evading the issue.”

“So you were also tense?”, he asked me with a smile.

“You people have made me a bit nervous but I have overcome it now. Go get ready and within next five minutes I am coming in your room from where we push off straight to their hostel. Get some more of blue colour as I have to show it to Kanwaljit; Amrita in blue”, I replied showing a bit of annoyance to him.

Dhillon went to his room to change his shoes meanwhile I also got ready by tightening my belt and changing my looks applying the colours on my face all over for avoiding easy identification.

We both soon left our hostel building. It was about 1215h and there was no movement in the girl’s hostel. Their balcony door was open but they were not sitting outside. I crossed the road in between confidently and Dhillon followed me with both of us holding blue and red colours in our hands with some additional in my pocket which was high quality perfumed arrowroot colour. Beautiful face did deserve beautiful perfumed colour unlike ours.

I entered the hostel like a normal student. There was no one seen except the maid who was coming out not bothering to look at us. I could hear the whistle of pressure cooker coming from one of the teacher’s house and usual murmuring of discussion between husband and wife on the routine affairs of life. I crossed the warden’s room which was closed but not locked probably indicating his presence inside. The heart beat doubled as I climbed the first step since we had crossed the safety zone which was till the warden’s room. Harpal and others watched us from our boys hostel as if were watching a 70 mm movie from the balcony of a theatre having potato chips along with which I could see from the RCC Jalli from the mumty of the Girl’s hostel.

I reached the first landing of the steps and looked towards Dhillon who had made a serious face as his smile was missing due to the fear. His skin had turned darker while he looked at me and said,

“Move on!”

“I am moving” I replied and carried on further to finally land up in the girl’s hostel floor. I was in the area where the boys were not supposed to go so felt out of place. I controlled my emotions, fear and became bold forgetting everything. To relax my mind I recalled her beautiful face which knocked off the tension for some time.

I knocked their door gently as the call bell was not functional.

Who’s there?”came the reply

“We” I replied.

“Who we?” came the reply again.

“We are your neighbours” I replied.

“What for you have come?”I heard the same girlish voice not knowing whose it was.

“We have come to wish you happy holi” I replied sweetly in a low voice.

“Oooooooooo! Oooooooch! No! No wet colours” came out no of girlish voices together.

“We do not have any wet colours so please do not be afraid of ” I replied.

“No! No! No! You can wish us from there itself” they said probably knowing there may be some naughty boys out there who dared to reach their room. I could hear their giggles clearly standing next to the door.

I felt like a fool standing outside a girl’s door who was refusing to open it and looked at Dhillon whose fuse was already blown off as I could see discolouration on his face. It made me laugh.

Hey! Come on Amrita don’t behave like a kid we have come all the way how can you keep the doors closed for your guests” I again pleaded her.

There was a bit of silence and I could hear the door being opened with the sound of the tower bolt moving but it was only opened partially to have a glance of who was outside and then it was suddenly locked again. She probably could not identify who we were.

“Who’s there?” came the voice again.

“Tumharey Bhaai (Your brothers)”came the reply which I wondered from where it came as there was no one with me except Dhillon standing behind me.

“Hey! Who said this?” I asked him

“I” he replied.

“Are you mad the whole game will be spoiled if you develop this relationship.”

“But she’s not opening the door” Dhillon replied

“Then say Mom Please open the door” I again said in anger.

“No! No!I---- I ---I----- did not mean that” he replied.

“I do not want to refer to the dictionary for its meaning. You keep shut and I will have it opened. Can you not hear their giggles? It means that they are having fun and testing our patience” I tried to explain him their viewpoint.

As this was going on Dhillon said that he is hearing the voices of Warden calling his wife for searching the bag as he might be planning to go out so would be out any moment.

“Let him go for shopping how does it concern us as he has to go down and we are over his floor” I told him.

“What if he meets us on the way while we are going down?”asked Dhillon exhibiting fear.

“Why are you so pessimistic? We will wish him Happy holi then” I replied.

I knocked the door again and this time I heard the reply.

“OK! We are opening but dry colours only pleeeeeeeeeeeeease” which was the sweet voice of Amrita.

They probably understood that we were the known faces who live in front of their hostel and not outsiders.

“By the way can I know your name?” she asked clearly.

“The one you will see first after opening the door is me who stays opposite to your balcony and the other one whose voice you heard just before me in hindi is Dhillon” I replied.

“Oh my God you should have told me that before” said Amrita and the door was opened the next second.

I could see all of them thrilled and showing a false fear from their smiles some standing on chairs in their organised room unlike the room in the boys hostel while some on the floor waiting to be popped up with colours from our lucky hands. The tables turned as I could see them holding colours too. I headed straight for my target with blue perfumed colour in my hands for Amrita and approached her from front.

The teenage sensations had already started with evidence of goosepimples emerging out in my body which also warmed up without any exercise. She did not move back but exposed her face to me. I felt like planting a kiss on her cheek instead of putting colour on her but was constrained due to non acquaintance with her. It was a great day when my fuses went off. I somehow controlled my emotions and raised both my hands rubbing my palms full of blue colour on her beautiful cheeks which slipped down and joined together at her chin. I did not feel like separating my hands from her face as it was a sensuous touch the most beautiful part of the story I have narrated so far which made my senses shiver in happiness. I was not satisfied with this although the bet was won. I longed for some more touch so I did it again and then again for the third time including on her hair on which I put some red colour. As I finished myself and was contended she reciprocated similarly which was even more enjoyable. Meanwhile the other girls also loaded us both with various colours. They even offered sweets which we could hardly have as were coated with thick layers of colours on our faces.

I thanked Amrita and requested her to have a look at our hostel building once (to convince Kanwaljit with her blue face that the task was accomplished) before washing her face. She readily agreed and looked at our hostel.

‘Oh Chak teh Phattey’(Oh You have done it!) came the loud voice from no where which I understood was of Harpal. Dhillon also was at ease now and gossiping with them. The ice was broken.

We both soon started our return journey. As we came out I wiped away the colour jerking my neck left and right and we descended down stairs. As luck would have it I saw the back of the warden while he was getting down from the first floor to the ground floor. I immediately halted at the landing and waited for him to leave. As he went out we descended after waiting for a couple of minutes and quietly moved out of their building rushing back to our hostel.

As we entered the premises of the first floor Harpal and Kanwaljit were waiting like an Air hostess to receive us with cheerful faces saying,

“You have won the treat. Welcome” and then we were inside our rooms debriefing them.

Meanwhile Shamsher came to know that we have succeeded in our act. He lost control of his emotions and made it an ego that if we can do it why not he. He straightaway headed for the girls hostel to have his piece of cake and while he was about to climb the stairs of the first floor, the warden returned after getting his stuff from the Dhaba in his bag and caught hold of him asking where he was going.

“I am going to pay my good wishes to the girls in the hostel” he said in despair as could not apply his brains to say that he was going to wish the warden (who was one and a half times his size) himself at his residence. He could have said this and could have got away with this excuse easily as had not yet crossed the warden’s room on the first floor.

“Come I will teach you how to go to girl’s hostel “said the warden in annoyance holding his collar from behind.

“Don’t you know that this is out of bound area for boys? shouted the Warden at him.

“But sir other boys went and applied colours on them.” replied Shamsher.

“No one can dare to do that till such time I am here” he replied.

“Who were they?” came the next question from his mouth shaking everyone of us.

“I only heard but cannot say for sure” replied Shamsher.

Shamsher knew it well if he uttered our names he would be condemned not only by us but by everyone in the college for his answer which would spoil his manly image he had managed in years by growing his thick beard and moustaches and secondly who the hell was going to agree that we had gone unless the girls were against us. The girls would not do that as they had offered us sweets in addition to their sensuous touches. So there was nothing to be afraid of.

As we had rightly guessed the things went in our favour burying the matter forever and in the evening we all were at ‘The Barid Shahi’ hotel occupying a four seated table with butter chicken in front of us.

Great day, great friends and great time we had that day.

Jaguar Flight

 My first flight in Jaguar Aircraft

Having a flight has become a normal routine of life which was not about two decades back. But having a flight in a fighter aircraft is an opportunity of lifetime for few who are not in IAF. When I filled up forms of NDA I had filled Air Force as my first choice impressed with the flying Jaguars while my father was posted at Halwara during my teens. As luck would have for me I joined Army and at the end of my career before retirement I somehow got a chance to have my first flight in it at last though as a pillion rider. 

I was briefed for a day on various instructions I was to follow and actions in case of emergency right from wearing the G flying suit, controls of aircraft in brief and ejection procedure in detail. It was too complicated to comprehend in a day so I focussed barely on essentials. At the end of his briefing I asked the young officer pilot briefing me (recalling the state of air hostess who controlled the passenger aircraft after its pilot fell unconscious in the movie Airport- 75),

How to come down safely if the pilot becomes unconscious due to ABCD reason?

Perplexed by my question he was spell bound and gave wavy answers finding it difficult to explain the technical actions to a novice in such a short time. To ease him I asked, What would you do if you were in my place and were not a pilot? 

He replied, 'I will leave it to God'

I did not question him further and our briefing was over with smiles exchanged.

 I was then taken to pilots crew room where lot of flying suits were hung  on hangars with equipments displayed. I tried a few of them for marking the one I was to wear on the D day. Then came the safety jacket which were of two types: one for landing by parachute on land and the other one for landing in sea to remain afloat this being much heavier. The young pilot adviced me to wear the lighter one as the heavier one spoils all the comfort putting me in confusion; How will I swim to safety with non floating jacket meant for land with  buckles and straps all around me so complex to open for a novice while in water ?  However after wearing both I decided to wear the lighter one preferring to sacrifice some safety to comfort as it was going to be a pleasure of lifetime which I did not wanted to compromise.

Then we proceeded towards the aircraft hanger to see the prototype aircraft for understanding the ejection procedure. I noticed the lever handle which was to be pulled touching it lightly to have a feel of how just by pulling it Rs 200 crores go into the dustbin with risk of two lives sending a chill to my spine. 'It is not armed,' said the pilot 'but after it is armed it is ready to shoot with the rockets placed under the seat. You just have to sit in an erect position and the rest the designed system will take care of'. 

On the D day I was told to reach the pilot crew room around 0600h in the morning. I had a sumptuous breakfast in the crew room, relieved myself and put on the selected G suit as earlier.  Their Commanding Officer arrived later and I was asked to follow him to the aircraft. While walking on the tarmac he confirmed if I had been briefed and I replied in affirmative fearing he does not get into technical jargon to confirm. 90% of the briefing was on ejection. I had no idea how to fly it independently and was like a fresh car learner. I satisfied myself with the thought that it was a joyride for me otherwise I would have been pilot myself if I knew how to fly solo.

The beautiful Jaguar aircraft with aggressive look was ready with airmen around it waiting  for us to embark with its open cockpit and ladder placed to  mount on it in a welcoming gesture. The pilot mounted on the front seat and I followed as his pillion rider. He assumed that I was well briefed and welcomed me while sitting in the cockpit. The ear speakers were connected and he called me through headphones waving his hands through a small reflecting mirror I searched for his face as could hear him say time and again,

'Look here' . I searched all around and after finding a small mirror with his smiling face focussed on it. He continued 

  'In case of  emergency you will eject first then I will after you. We will continue our talks on this headphone'

I felt a chill when the young pilot standing on the ladder outside reminded me of the ejection lever indicating that it is armed now and I should be  careful. 

I kept on thinking why they keep on focusing on ejection procedure time and again as it diverted my mind from enjoyable to serious mode.

Soon the canopy closed with a thud and it was locked airtight with no outside sound coming in. The engines roared, but the sound in headphone was clear. The oxygen mask came live when I could hear my own breathe different from the natural one in open air. I could hardly move my neck to left or right with ease due to so many straps and buckles fixed all over me like akin to ECG chords. I adjusted the  helmet visor preferring to keep the transparent one over the dark to have a natural view. Soon I could feel the aircraft move and it was confirmed when everyone outside started showing their thumbs up to us indicating best of luck. I responded along with the pilot feeling on top of the world. We moved out of hangar on to the tarmac. I was sweating profusely so was the pilot.

He himself spoke on the headphone to clarify ,' We will start the AC once have the wheels up as need power during taking off' 

'My God is this Maruti 800 that you have to switch off AC while you go uphill?'  I said to myself. 

We moved like in an ordinary aircraft while I was trying to find the difference between a fighter and a commercial plane. It was a beautiful view all around as I could see the front and the sky as against the boeing aircraft where you cannot while sitting on a passenger window seat.

I soon heard' We are about to take off'

I was already fastened all around with the seat. I prayed and the aircraft took high speed. It was not much different as noise was controlled but the feeling of independent ownership came in and I felt so special. Soon our wheels left the ground(wheels up).

  I was soon going to experience its flying now. The speed appeared like that of an ordinary plane from inside initially but later I could feel the difference. The AC started and the sweat began to disappear bringing relief. 

After a few minutes of plane flying, the pilot said,

'How are you feeling ? 

'I am doing fine'I replied.

'I will be taking a turn now don't get disturbed' he continued.

Why will I get disturbed? I thought. All planes take a turn. 

Suddenly my head became heavy eyes felt like closing, the plane appeared to slow down as if has stopped going ahead. Hey! what is happening. I could not see a straight levelled ground below. It was a sharp turn with force of  2G on me. Soon everything was back to normal. 

I could see the partition between land and the sea below depicting the beauty of nature as we flew at low level also making me feel cautious when we flew over sea only  reminding me of the land safety jacket I was wearing.However soon the sight of trees made me comfortable. 

'You want to experience a bombing spree? The CO asked.

 ' Sure sir' I excitingly replied.

'OK here we go with that prominent white building below as the target.' he said immediately after which I felt weightlessness but was enjoyable. The sky appeared partially from the canopy with half of it covered by trees below due to the dip, the trees became bigger and clearer approaching them.

Oh God! I hope it takes up at the appropriate time looking at the ejection lever with some pessimism creeping into my mind. And then everything became so heavy I could see only the blue sky from the canopy. The plane appeared to be travelling at 10 km per hour I closed my eyes due to heaviness; it was taking a steep climb. 

What the hell is happening? I hope the pilot is not in the same state as I was otherwise who will fly it. And then soon we were normal.

'How was it?' A voice spoke on my headphone

We had climbed up. 

The pilots are trained for all this. 

After a few minutes I heard from him,

'Would you like to fly?'

Me ? Fly? How? I just got a days briefing from the youngster.

He laughed saying,

'Sir don't worry I will take on if you go wrong just experience a once in lifetime opportunity'. 

My dream of flying a Jaguar as a kid at Halwara Air Force station was about to come true without being in Airforce.

I took on the steering, so called stick in the technical jargon. It was much smoother than any power steering of a modern car, I tilted it slightly to the left , the wings outside tilted accordingly showing me the green fields, then similarly to the right to have the view from the right. I brought it back to normal, we flew straight for sometime. Now I pushed the stick slightly forward when the nose dipped and then pulled it towards me, the nose moved towards the sky. I looked at the dials, they were so many with needles moving, making me wonder how does the pilot keep a watch on all this at the same time? Probably they take years of training to learn such multitasking.

 'Sir over to you' I said to him after which I felt lighter thinking have handed over a big responsibility back to him.

We chatted discussing various controls in the aircraft for some time. Then he said

' Now I will make you experience 3G by taking a sharp turn, sharper than before. Are you ready to take it?I hope you are fine?'

I replied in affirmative bracing myself to face dizziness once again as experienced before. 

This time the head became heavier. The eyeballs attempted entering my head so I closed my eyes and waited for the minute to pass. When the situation eased I opened it not  being able to make out whether it was land, sea or sky which appeared above the canopy. 

It was fun with pressure. 

Would you like to experience 4G now? He asked.

'I think thats enough sir. I can interpolate with the experience I had.' I replied and he smiled. 'How many Gs can you take on like this?'I asked him out of curiosity.

 '9G' was his reply 

'You are real air commandoes' I said. 

I flew like this for about 45 min to my hearts content as it was going to be a milestone achievement with its memories to share after getting down on the ground. We sailed like a boat in a serene lake though to an outsider on ground must been deafening due to the sound it makes while flying low.

 It was landing time and we quietly glided  down like an eagle and were on the tarmac just like an ordinary plane. 

As we closed in to the hangar and halted there was a team welcoming us; locking the wheels, placing the ladder and all such actions making us feel like a VVIP. I shook hands with all of them thanking for the assistance and clicked a photo with the pilot with in Jaguar in its background.  Later I was also  given a certificate of my first flight in Jaguar.

It is an opportunity rendered to few lucky ones mostly very high dignitaries, celebrities and select few to experience its flight and I was among the lucky ones to experience it while in uniform.

Jonga Ride

 The Unforgettable Jonga Ride

Having a Jonga ride is now a dream of yesteryears. It was a spacious petrol vehicle used by the Indian Army, with a good suspension system akin to a jeep in appearance, though bigger in size until the late nineties. The army kids back then must be well aware of it even today. These are now extinct and replaced with Maruti Gypsies and other modern vehicles.

It was September 1996 when I was traveling  from Udhampur to Srinagar for some official work on one of  this old Jonga with my driver. We ascended the steep slope from Kud to Patnitop  in this powerful vehicle overtaking others with ease enjoying the scenic beauty of hills around taking twists and turns. After sometime we took a short halt for a tea break at Patnitop, refreshed ourselves and  resumed our journey on a gentle descent. Now I took on the steering wheel, with driver sitting adjacent to me. While we discussed its advantages over a jeep for its sail-like ride and power of acceleration  I saw a stepney wheel rolling in front of our Jonga. Guessing about the fate of the vehicle from which the wheel had separated, in my mind, I heard my driver calmly say,

'Sir, gaadi slow karke side mein laga lo.'(Please take the vehicle aside after slowing it down)

I wondered why he told me this as we had  resumed our journey just after relieving ourselves a few moments ago while at Patnitop. 

However I applied the brakes and took the vehicle aside on the shoulder berm of the road. As we stopped, the jonga tilted and came to rest like a glider does on one of its wings after coming to a halt.

"Hey, what happened? Why has it tilted?" I asked him with curiosity.

"Sir, apna pahiya out ho gaya hai, main leke aata hoon," he replied.

"Then how were we still driving?" I asked him, surprised and tensed.

After his narration I came to know that the wheel which rolled in front of us was of our own Jonga's front right hand side wheel discovering this unique quality of this vehicle that  it can also move on its three wheels like a tractor.

The next reasoning given by him further perplexed me when he said,

"Sir, ye to is gadi ke saath hota rehta hai. Abhi pahunch kar workshop mein wheel bearing tight karva lenge."(This keeps happening with this vehicle. We will get it repaired after reaching the workshop)

After giving him a mouthful for his laxity in its maintenance, I observed him fix the wheel back at its place quietly by carrying out temporary repairs with the tools he had enabling us to at least reach the workshop. Now I sat on the co-driver's seat resuming our journey once again with my fingers crossed praying for our safe arrival at the destination while watching him drive confidently as if nothing had happened  being a routine affair for him.