The Precious Smile

The Precious Smile
It was a sunny day in summer of Jun and I was going from Delhi to Faridabad by bus. The bus was packed but comfortable moving at an average speed since it was passing from the ring road which engulfs the city of Delhi all around. Most of the passengers were sitting calmly, some  gossiping while others looked outside and were enjoying the fresh air from the window and I was one amongst them. The road was clean and the traffic was dense due to lined up cars on the road.
I could see beautiful cars below the bus window to my right which were quietly overtaking our bus , thanks to the modern technology of noiseless cars. Variety of models of costly cars could be noticed at a glance making you dream of owning the best one someday. While I was watching what was going on outside I saw a beautiful navy blue coloured Hyundai Sonata car pass below my window of the bus trying to overtake the bus. It blew its horn but the bus driver could not allow it to overtake it as there was a vehicle in front and the road was congested so the car moved on in parallel with us. I could see it advancing from the rear and its speed stabilised near my position. It then tagged along with my position. All of a sudden I was stunned and spell bound.
Because I saw the famous movie star “Karishma Kapoor” smiling at me and waving her hand from that shining window at the rear left of the car.
She looked so beautiful and charming with a flash in her eyes. I looked to my front and rear to confirm whether that smile was aimed at me or someone else and soon was convinced that it aimed at me since no one was looking out of the window of the bus either to my front or rear.
I was thrilled.
She kept smiling with her raised hand. I immediately reciprocated by waving my hand with a warm smile. I wondered why she did like this: maybe due to my bright coloured turban which I wore that day which attracted her attention inadvertently forcing her to exhibit a goodwill gesture for her fan for image popularity which the stars generally do when they go out in public. Any way whatever may be the reason was not the matter to be pondered upon but only thing which thrilled me was that it was for me.  Her lovely eyes with a sparkle,  fair cheeks, raised eyebrows and shining black hair with a maroon lipstick was all the matter which flashed into my mind again and again. Anyhow the car soon found a space , zoomed ahead overtaking our bus and vanished within seconds leaving only her thoughts in my mind. I wanted to immediately share it with someone but since I was travelling alone and all others were strangers so had to gulp this good news down my throat all alone till such time I reached home to share it with my dear ones.
Next few minutes I was in deep thoughts thinking why did she choose me to share her smile as she could have chosen a youngster of her age if she so desired and how I out of exuberance at the spur of the moment waved her back . How does she maintain herself so well even after being a mother? She really must be working hard to keep herself so fit and must be sacrificing her tastes of good food which we take without any hesitation. Life is indeed difficult for her and not as easy as it appears to be. What use is so much money if you cannot eat of your choice, cannot roam about freely in the streets and have Golgappas at a corner of your choice as we do and so many things which only a common man can do.
As I was thinking all this the bus turned to a corner and halted near a refreshing point where there were some shops selling refreshments and tea. There were also some toilets for the transients of the bus. I got down had a coke after which I went to relieve myself. Later when I was returning to the bus I was surprised to see the beautiful image of karishma Kapoor which was painted on the side of the bus just under my window seat wherein she was giving a similar smile and waving her hand as I saw her in the car when she overtook our bus few minutes back. The hairstyle was the same, her eyes were the same , the colour of her dress was the same with the same lovely cheeks and same colour of the lipstick. Slightly ahead of her painted image was written
“Always have Shakti Bhog Atta (Wheat flour) “
My mind was again in deep thoughts,
‘ How can this be possible?” I kept on thinking sitting on my seat waiting for the bus to recommence the journey after the break. A thought suddenly flashed in my mind and the whole mystery was unraveled within a fraction of a second.
Oh my God ! How foolish is it on my part that I could not understand a simple law of physics.
It was the reflection of her painted image on that navy blue car with a tinted glass as the image of her face fell exactly on the window of the car in such a way that it appeared to the observer that she glanced and waved at him.
Suddenly one more car overtook our bus from the same place when Karishma again smiled and waved me for one more time confirming that I was right.
But this time I did not wave her back with my hand. I only smiled and cheered myself  in my thoughts.
God bless your precious smile Karishma as the image of your smile has enough power to give so much joy to anyone and God only knows how much happy would a person be when he actually sees you smiling -----Live.

Behind The Enemy Lines

BEHIND THE ENEMY LINES
 The real experience on ground is quite
different from the one experienced in the theatres. Action
books also motivate no less to the young readers be it
commando comics, war stories or a biography of a great
general as the thought process makes you a hero since  you
imbibe yourself on the character of the story.
It was in 1989 while located on a riverside location where our
unit was doing the bridging training camp; a part of the
annual training which the sappers have to undergo to keep
them abreast of the knowledge of the combat engineering.
Located far away from the city we had occupied an open
area in tents on the banks of river Chenab having ice cold
flowing water throughout the year. The cold water bath
 keeps the body healthy; someone wise had
said. Many of us took its bath on regular basis. The
good health was due to the bath with cold water or the
routine army PT, no one knew but one thing was definitely
true; No one felt cold after taking the bath. The same
water would make anyone shriek if it was poured on the back
of the neck under which passed the spinal cord.
The place was praiseworthy from scenic point of view.
All what a child draws while making a scenery on a white
sheet of paper was prevalent; The rising sun, hills, green
trees, rivers, blue sky, villagers working, hut etc. The feel of fresh cold breeze and the sound of flowing water of the river
during the night added to the excitement.
The day schedule remained busy starting with PT at 0600h
and then training sessions from 0800 till 1400h. Taking a
short nap after  lunch was enough to refresh for the
afternoon training sessions till about 9 pm in the night.
There were about a dozen officers and 300 men camped for
training at one time which constituted a good gathering for
the learning sessions in the field. The camp area was open
with small hills located far off in the horizon
surrounded by villages on all the sides except for a small
town located about 18 km away.
The ice-cold fast flowing river, Chenab astride our camp was
the centre of attraction of the area. We practiced making the
floating bridge over it time and again. To the north of our
camp along the river about 10 Kms from there as the crow
flew was the Indo Pak border with no clear demarcation of
the boundaries except some international boundary pillars
quiet distant from each other  hardly visible. The
visibility was blocked in the area due to thick jungles. Marsh,
small distributaries of Chenab emanated from many points in
between radiating to the other country’s territory further
north. There were large gaps which were difficult to man all
day and it was difficult for both the sides to keep a strict vigil
over it all the time due to the peculiar nature of the terrain.
Our unit had just received some brand new Mahindra jeeps
which acted like a lottery for the youngsters of the unit to
have such a privilege. They loved going outdoors on the
pretext of some duty to have a feel of its drive. It formed a
part of training curriculum which made the things further  easier for them. The old man of the unit was only worried
about the accidents as the main road carried all the traffic of
civil trucks but we took care of that by going into the village
roads avoiding driving on the main road.
I had just learnt to drive a four wheeler which further
aroused my interest to go for a deep drive into the village
roads as it seldom had any traffic running on it. Driving and
exploring the new places was a great fun especially when
coloured inhabitants came across on the way. The life had
become sick seeing uniformed men all day so desire for
exploration was eminent for a change.
The roads were good for a novice to learn driving as there
existed straight long stretches with practically no traffic at all
except for some tractor with trolleys carrying the fodder
which were visible from a distance. I had an experienced
driver with me who taught all the basics of driving. We
ventured for long drives immediately after the lunch and
carried on till late evenings but returned before the dusk to be
in the mess before the old man arrived for a drink.
The Chenab River flowed from East to West towards the
enemy side. It had a kutcha road running parallel to its bank
into the villages in the thick forests the cluster of which was
visible from our location. The rivulets which were plenty in
numbers subdivided further but were not visible from our
camp area being distant.
Exploring the unknown area created curiosity to probe
whenever I glanced towards that side. I wondered what lied
ahead across as no one had done recce of that area till date
due to absence of proper road. The kutcha roads towards that
side were also not marked on the map. Moreover going there would shake out everything in the stomach due to the bumpy
track. It however did have some straight smooth stretches of
compacted mud parallel to the river appearing good for a
jeep drive. Some contractor’s truck carrying sand were
seldom seen near the banks of the river on this track.
One day I decided to go for a drive towards that location. On
the pretext of doing a recce on area familiarisation. I
projected the same to my company commander for updating
the map of that unexplored area and soon got a go ahead
happily from him.
“A good initiative and thought,” he replied and I got the
plans ready for the move on the next day.
The very next day I started off after having breakfast and
completing some training in the theory classes. I carried an
area map, a compass and a binocular with two men in
addition to the driver and myself. We carried our packed lunch
along with water bottles as were expected to return late
but before dusk. The driver started the new jeep and with a
low noise we quietly left the location.
After covering about two kms I asked the driver to sit on the
Co-driver’s seat as I was more interested to drive the new
jeep. We exchanged the seats and I took on the steering. I
followed the river bank road running parallel to it
which dipped up and down and the new jeep springs kept the
ride smooth as a sail till some potholes made me feel the
difference. Speeding up further could topple the jeep. I
slowed down and we rocked from one side to another.
Initially it was a fun but after some time it became tiresome for
the back inspite of the new vehicle. Soon we entered the forest having rivulets flowing at many
places. The area started to turn darker as the sunlight was
blocked by the canopy of huge trees. The ground started to
be slushy requiring the usage of 4x4 gears which also I learnt
to operate as a part of my driving lesson. I carried on in the
direction the track took us as a railway track takes the engine
of the train leaving no choice for turning elsewhere. Without
bothering for the direction we reached the forest where the
track also ended.
After sometime even the kutcha track disappeared
intermittently at places creating a confusion of where it was
leading to. There were stretches of open sky and dark places
covered under the canopy of trees appearing
intermittently on the way.
Sometimes later the main river which we were following
suddenly disappeared as it meandered to
the other side leaving us without any guide. We were now in
the rivulets zone where several of them emanated from a
single point. I halted for a while to rest since we had
travelled continuously for two hours although at a very slow
speed but our backs demanded some rest. We took a break
under a shady tree.
I tried to locate my own position to know where exactly we
were. For finding the own position two reference points on
the ground as well as on the map should be identifiable. The
bearing of the points on the ground is transferred to the map
and the lines are drawn. The point at which the two lines
intersect gives the own position. There were no GPS‘s then.
To our dismay we were not able to find two prominent
landmarks as there were no permanent landmarks since all the trees looked alike. I asked others for help but they were
also equally lost and dumb.
We were lost.
The weather was cloudy so in the absence of sun we were
not sure whether direction we were proceeding to was correct
or not. The rivulets had created all the confusion. I thought it
prudent to return back before it got too late. Turning the
jeep at 180 degrees I started to proceed on the route by
following the tracks of our own jeep tyres wherever they
were visible. We followed it for some time till such time they
were visible but later I could not locate it as it was all washed
away with the flowing water. It was about 1 pm in the after
noon so I decided to halt for lunch. I asked everyone to finish
off their meals quickly while I concentrated to decide which
direction we were to follow thereafter.
Whenever we go out in a team it is the senior most person
who has to be the most responsible as everyone looks upon
him irrespective of the fact even if the juniors are more
intelligent; a fact which is well experienced by all those in
uniform. Hence everyone had their lunch like they were on a
picnic without any tension of getting lost. It was making it
difficult for me to swallow the grub since we were to proceed
further immediately after lunch and the time was running
out.
What a shameful thing it would be if I had to tell them that
we were lost. They all had the faith in me I being the
seniormost. So using my wisdom after consulting them I
decided on a particular direction to proceed ahead.
There were no marks of the jeep tracks visible. The track just
went up and down through the dark and light stretches on the wet ground. I steered the jeep to the left and right, drove it at
variant speeds only to encounter more rivulets ahead. As we
proceeded ahead the route further diversified into smaller sub
branches. It carried on like this for the next one hour but still
no headway could be achieved.
At last I saw an open patch on which was located a part of a
small hamlet with few thatched roofed huts. One of the hut
was a tea shop in the living area having some huts
adjacent to it. We thought that it would be better to ask about
the route from the inhabitants of that place since were locals
of that area. I stopped the jeep near the shop. Karnail singh
who was sitting at the back of the jeep beckoned a person
sitting in the shop for asking about the place. Seeing him a
tall and lean elderly man with a weak eyesight saw us. He
was wearing white clothes and a turban in a typical
traditional village dress who approached us at slow pace. As
he came near the jeep I asked him,
“Which place is this?”
“Dhander Kalan” he replied. I heard this name for the first
time as it was not indicated in the map in the coloured zone
depicting Indian side. Moreover everything was written in
Urdu on the shop board which was hung inclined tilting to
one side with a post which could be hardly read as nobody
amongst us knew it.
The elderly man speaking respectfully asked us,
“Sahib aap logo ko kidhar janaa hai?”(Sir where do you
want to go?).
I replied,”Manj Shokian”  “Arey aap log to bahut galat aa gaye hai yeh ilaka to
Pakistan mein aata hai? (You people have come on the
wrong way. This area falls under Pakistan) he said in a
normal way with no tension as if it was a routine affair for
him.
In my mind I murmured,” PPP------Pakistan! Oh gosh we are
trapped now and would soon land up in Lahore jail” but did
not show any sense of fear on my face.
But he continued pointing to the track,
”Chalo koi baat nahin Galati ho jaati hai. Aap aisey karo
yahaan se woh track pakaro aur bari nadi ke saath chaltey
rehna usko hamesha bayi taraf hi rakhna vapis pahunch
jaaogay. Raastey mein choti nadi aaney par bhi murhna
nahin veh paar ho jayegi”(It doesn’t matter one does commit
mistakes. You do one thing, catch that track and keep
following the big river keeping it to your left all the time and
you’ll return back. On the way do not turn even if small
rivulets come your way as they are crossable)
My heart beat had already doubled while I listened to him
and so I expected the same state of others sitting in my rear.
I was tense because we did not have any weapons with us to
cater for any emergency. We were generally discouraged for
carrying the same due to the fear of losing its parts and
facing unnecessary inquiries later on; The zero error
syndrome followed all over in the services.
As soon as he finished explaining the route to us I pressed
the accelerator and zipped off from there in the desired
direction as told by him to get out of that zone before we get
into some other trouble. After travelling about a km, Karnail
Singh further increased my heartbeat by giving a suggestion that since we are in the enemy area and the person who
guided us on this route was also not an Indian so he might
have guided us wrongly to lead us into an enemy trap.
I immediately applied brakes taking my jeep under the cover
of a tree and asked him and others to quickly do the map
reading for finding own position as we were just a km away
from the built up huts (Teashop) in the open ground patch
The Chenab river ran parallel to us so the difficulty of
locating these landmarks on the map was less. All the eight
eyes were on the map totally focussed and fully concentrated
reading it atom by atom as it was do or die attempt for us
now.
There was fear of getting caught in the enemy hands on
everyone’s face but no one revealed it out to any of us, rather
Karnail Singh was saying time and again not to worry it
being a minor issue. He also convinced us that even if
someone detects us we can overpower them as are four in
strength. While we were looking at the map we saw dust
emanating from a point on the other side of the river bank
and could make out that it was some military vehicle in
Khakhi colour.
“It definitely is not our vehicle as all the Indian Military
vehicles were olive green in colour. Oh my God! It could be
Rangers. Everybody take cover and no movement”, I told
them all.
We all took cover; some ducked low in the jeep while the
driver and Ramesh covered their view behind the wheels so
as not to be visible from the track and other side of the river.
The big jeep, probably like a jonga went past on the other
side of the river which we all saw with our hidden eyes. Nobody of us noticed any weapons with them; probably they
also worked on the similar principles as we did since once
upon a time both the nations were together under the British
rule. Everyone took a sigh of relief after it went far off till it
disappeared in the dust.
“We must hurry up now as we will not get the same
opportunity again”, said our driver Atma Ram. Probably he
was right.
Meanwhile we decided that the direction in which we were
proceeding was correct as we had found our own position on
the map by now and the enemy jeep went in the direction
opposite to the border. The third point which flashed in my
mind confirming me finally was that since there were no
major turns in the Chenab river which could confuse the
direction and that the water flowed towards the enemy side
was enough to convince that we were proceeding in the right
direction. So travelling upstream side would definitely take
us home.
I zoomed off at the maximum speed possible. The sun God
soon appeared at last which made everything clear about the
direction to everyone sitting at the back as they relied more
on it than the compass.
It was about 4 pm now and as per the map we still had to
cover about 8 km which meant another one hour as the track
did not allow a speed more than 7 kmph on an average. Our
stomachs shaked and heads rolled over the vertebrae with
each crater we crossed while we inhaled dust at dry places.
The tyres of the jeep were stressed and would enter the slush
and dust time and again. We prayed for the good health of
tyres as there was no help available to take us out in case of  any eventuality. We travelled for about 3 kms when we saw
a colourful designer truck approaching us head on from the
opposite side.
I had never seen such a designer truck as the trucks plying on
the highway were generally brown in colour and of a single
colour of TATA make but this was neither TATA nor a plain
coloured truck. It appeared that some child had painted many
colourful designs on it.
“Sahib ji ai tey Pakistani truck hai”(Sir this is a Pakistani
truck”) said Karnail singh in Punjabi.
Ganesh, sitting at the rear suggested that we overpower them
as there were only two of them sitting in front including the
driver who were visible from our jeep. I immediately told
them that no offensive action to be taken till such time I give
a go and everyone will keep quiet till then. The truck halted
right in front of our jeep face to face as there was very less
space to cross it. I asked Karnail to call the driver. He went
near his door and the driver came along with him.
I asked him how he is moving his truck in this area
“Janaab hum to ret lene aatey hain”(Sir we come to collect
the sand). While I was speaking to him Ganesh went behind
the truck to check if anyone else was also there and indicated
with his hand to me that they were only two of them.
“You do not know this area is out of bounds for you” I said
in a raised voice.
“But no one has objected to it till date sir”
“Kindly make sure next time you do not come till this point
otherwise we will arrest you “ I said sternly. “Thhek hai janaab hamarey thekedaar ko bataa dena” (OK
Sir but please tell our contractor) replied the driver.
“You will tell them not we” said Karnail to him while I
raised my hand to tell him to keep quiet.
“Do you know how far is the border from here?” I asked him
in a way to make him feel that I am asking to test his
knowledge of the area.
“There is no demarcation but we do not go beyond a km
from here”, replied the driver
Then you will send your representative to show us
that point and now tell him to sit in our jeep. Also please
show your license. The driver went to his truck to call his
understudy who was still sitting in the co driver’s seat. I was
only fearing that he does not take out any weapon from his
truck although the chances of which were remote so I told
Ganesh and Karnail to follow him to his truck and bring him
with his license and the second person. They all returned
and when I saw the license it confirmed that they were from
Pakistan as the stamp of the RTO had bilingual language,
Urdu and English written on it as ‘Licensing authority
Lahore’.
I did not waste any further time and asked him to hop
in so that he could show us the way. He hesitated to sit
inside. So I forced him by gesturing Ganesh and Karnail who
took no time to push him on to the jeep.
You wait for him till he comes back” I told the truck
driver so that he does not go into his territory and reports the
matter. We zipped off from there bye passing the truck from  the side with great difficulty as the restricted space was just
wide enough to pass.
After travelling about half a km the person tried to
jump off from the jeep but was held tightly so could not
escape. I asked them to tie him with rope but since we did
not have the rope Karnail immediately took off his turban
and they both tied his hands at the back. I increased the  speed
of the jeep. The person started to cry. So we told him that we
will leave him at the border provided he guides us the correct
route otherwise we carry him to our territory. He started
behaving and guided at each and every turning which was
well recorded in his head due to his daily commutation to
collect sand.
We soon crossed the unmarked border and were
inside our territory where the known tracks and some Indian
trucks could be seen loading sand. I asked Karnail to release
him and as soon as we left him he vanished from there into
the forests not to be seen again. I only said Thanks to him in
my heart while he sprinted.
At far off distance on our side of the bank I could see
the same jeep which we had noticed on the other side of the
bank. Maybe they must have got the clue from the villager at
tea shop and had come looking for us but we were out of the
danger zone.
A sense of relief could be noticed on our faces and it
was 6 P It was already dusk.
I told everyone not to discuss this matter with anyone
till such time we are in the camp or else we may land up in
trouble. Karnail said while tying his turban,
“Sir which Recce?”
Everyone laughed facing him while we drove back into the
unit.
We were behind the enemy lines and now enemy was
behind the non demarcated lines of the border which had
shaken us all. Never ever I went for the Recce in that area
again and marked the border line on the map clearly with a
thick permanent marker in red and blue line so that no
youngster enters that area even by mistake in future.
The recce was successful and over.

Once upon a time at Harkirat Singh Theatre

This incident is of a place “where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection” stretching arms at the right time but at the wrong place could have proved fatal had somebody not cautioned me that day.

It was a fine weather day when the rain showers had just stopped with the sweet smell of the earth refreshing the inside of mind and body. The raat ki rani around the theatre with its sweet smell further added pleasure to the environment as I and my wife entered the gates of the open air cinema without showing any tickets being CMEites. The Bhuttawala was giving a blow to the burning coals of his hearth for roasting the corns for intermission, the Bhelpuriwala was organizing the spices for making the mix in the matka for distributing the ingredients subsequently  and the coffee stall was being made ready by filling the coffee packs into the machine adjusting its steam flow. Beautiful ladies in their coloured dresses added to the ambience spreading the aroma of their perfumes as they crossed. The newly weds of the degree courses adjusted themselves at their convenient places on the rear concrete benches while the senior lot on the seats near the projector. The fighter planes in the sky were high up as were making themselves ready to disturb at the appropriate time after the movie started. We chose a convenient place on the concrete bench somewhere in the middle as the back rows were full. The wind blew and gave sweet shivers as it was getting colder at night. The movie commenced soon and the murmur also subsided with time except for the kids sprinting on the aisles whose parents stopped trying to hush them after their repeated attempts failed till they got exhausted and finally settled down when the scenes of their interest started to appear on the big screen.

It was a good movie with a mix of romance, comedy, violence and excellent stunts. We closed in with each other joining our shoulders to keep ourselves warm. As the movie progressed it became more and more interesting as gripped us with thrill and suspense in the story. The rush was quite a bit and during such times it is always advisable to get your eating stuff either well before the half time or after it to avoid cluttering up at the Bhelpuri wala stall. My wife asked me to get coke and bhelpuri for her but I  did not feel like moving from the warmed up position but after she goaded me time and again I got up keeping my eyes on the screen so as not to miss the movie and proceeded to the stall descending the steps. I got a coke and bhelpuri immediately but wanted a bhutta (sweet corn) for myself which was to take time to roast. I told the bhuttawala to roast the same meanwhile I shall drop the stuff and return back. Saying this I went to my wife, handed over the stuff to her and returned to collect my corn which was still on the hearth with corns blasting like crackers as was being roasted. I sat on a bench under the tree waiting for the process to complete and kept watching the movie from there. Soon my order was ready and the corn was in no time between my incisors while my tongue had already tasted the warm spicy bite of lemon and salt by then. Holding the corn I moved to my seat by when the movie had become more interesting.  I could hardly take my eyes off the screen. I settled down on the concrete bench which had become colder by then but I was totally engrossed in the movie. I adjusted myself to the position and joined shoulders again with my wife as before to avoid cold. Everyone was silently watching the movie as the scene was serious and thrilling even the kids were silent. It continued for long till such time the hero saved the heroine travelling in an open car which was to fall into the river shortly due to the broken bridge ahead. The heroine was trying to grasp hero's  hand who was hanging from a chasing helicopter to save herby clasping her hand with his from a helicopter flying over it. The movie was “True Lies”. As this scene finished   everyone relaxed. I, holding the corn in my left hand placed my right hand on my wife’s lap and rested my back on the backrest of the concrete bench from my erected back posture. Soon I heard a very calm voice,

“I think you are committing a mistake”.

I first thought that I misheard something as the meaning of the sentence did not fit into the story of the movie at that time but when I moved my neck towards the source of sound I saw a matured lady with large framed spectacles staring at me on whose lap I had kept my right hand. I was not shocked as I could not understand the situation for about 3 seconds and was confused. But when I got to my senses and realized what had happened I got a shock and pulled my hand immediately. She did not raise any alarm but quietly said, “I think it happens at times inadvertently” Seeing her demeanor I absorbed all the shock within me so as not to expose or let anyone in the audience know what had happened and just smiled with seriousness on my face saying ”I am so sorry Mam” , got up from there with my sweet corn still in my left hand and right hand dangling when I saw my wife sitting two rows behind laughing gesturing with her raised hand to come near her while  I stood perplexed. It was then I understood that I had sat next to that lady by mistake in the darkness of the theatre courtesy the interesting movie, eyes on the screen and the tasty bhutta in my mouth. When I got back to my seat and told my wife about the incident of joining shoulders and stretching my arms to keep my hand on some lady’s lap, tears rolled down from her eyes with laughter. I did not recognize who that lady was as I had seen her face in darkness nor did I make any attempt to glance that side after the movie finished. I guess how she must have tolerated all the time when we shared the warmth to protect ourselves from the cold; maybe she also was equally engrossed in the movie. It was the intent which saved me from embarrassment when I think of that incident even today.

Stealing my own car

Sounds funny!But at times such situations arise which force you to perform such an act.

I went to collect my driving licence at ‘Suvidha Kendra Patiala’. I parked my car and took the necessary documents in a small handbag. After reaching the counter I waited for my turn in queue. There were lot of computer terminals at each counter akin to a multi counter reservation office of railways. Soon after collecting the licence I came out and went to the parking area where I had parked  my car. As I searced for the keys in my pocket I found them missing. Oh my God ! Where is it ? I searched all my remaining pockets for if inadvertently I would have kept it elsewhere but all my efforts went in vain. I started to recall the events after I got down from my car based on which I started to act. I went back to the counter where I stood in queue and carefully observed the floor for the fallen keys from my pocket while taking out the documents at the counter. Though most of the person standing in the queue had changed I still asked some of them if they had seen any fallen keys but noone could help me. I then asked the counter clerk but was wasting my time. The thought of getting  duplicate keys was out since it was located in other station.

 Now what should I do- Take a bus to get the duplicate keys?But with no other solution which my mind could suggest I proceeded towards my car again to see if anything important is kept inside by peeping through the window before mounting the bus to get duplicate keys.  I was  cursing my ownself for being so careless not being able to keep the keys secured in my pocket. It was hurting too much as was eating away my self confidence. I reached my car and had a peep through the windows. Everything was normal and there was nothing important inside which could be stolen. So I started to move out from the parking area to board the bus. However on my way out I felt something unusual which my eyes had noticed but the brain refused to decipher in turn adding to my discomfort. What is it I stressed my mind again and again?

‘Anyway forget it’ I said and soon boarded the bus. Sitting on a window seat I was envying the cars passing under my eyes when the bus stopped at a red signal. I saw a car halted to my left just below the bus window with a charming lady sitting on the driver’s seat. I glanced at her to relax and divert my tensed mind while both the vehicles waited for the red signal to turn green. She had an attractive hairstyle whose beautiful left hand rested on the steering while the right  fondled the car keys with her slender fingers.

 Car keys! The sight of keys again caused turbulence in my mind and brought it back to the same state but this time with a solution. Oh my God! Now I recalled what was causing discomfort to my mind was that I had seen my car keys hanging in the ignition slot of my own car with the door locked. It was now clear that I had forgotten to remove my car keys while debussing from the car before reaching the counter and the door was inadvertently got locked by me with the keys inside the car.  I immediately rushed out of the bus before the signal turned green. After reaching the side of the road in the jammed traffic I raised my hand in excitement to thank that charming lady who had helped me in getting out of this predicament while she looked dazed and confused in reciprocating to a stranger. I soon reached my car within a few minutes as the bus had not left far from the city. Now there was another problem waiting for me. How do I enter my own car as the keys were inside?

Since once earlier I had faced a similar situation when the keys were left inside the car and I had taken two days to locate the duplicate keys for finally opening the car. I had learnt it from a mechanic how to open it without the keys. Most of us know that in 'Maruti 800' one can open the locked door of the car by inserting a scale from the window glass just above the door handle from the window glass forcing the scale between the window glass and the door vertically downwards till it hits the obstruction which  pops up the locked lever inside the car. But my car which was 'Zen' did not have that popping lever but a horizontal knob. The mechanic however convinced me that it also opens similarly and  demonstrated the process after which the door  opened the next second.

Now the search for a steel scale commenced. I went to a photostat shop nearby and asked (this time again a sweet girl) to lend me the steel scale lying on her table on which my eyes were locked. She lent me the scale after which I  sped towards my car. Now the third problem was if anyone sees me opening the car in  this way he may think I am trying to make away with the car for which I damn cared. As I had thought  of, a man waiting for someone in his own car parked behind mine was watching my actions making me feel embarrassed for sometime.  Like an expert I slid the steel scale and jerked it between the window glass and the door knob and opened the door at last. Thanks to the demo of the mechanic.

I thanked God and took a sigh of relief. I immediately took out the keys from the car and placed them securely in my pocket. After locking the car I went back to return the scale to that Photostat shop girl conveying my thanks. When I finally opened the car again with the keys the man sitting in his car was still observing me carefully and would have said to himself.

‘There goes a car just stolen in front of my eyes.’

 Stealing own car is not a crime I convinced myself as I drove out of the parking area. Thanks to those two sweet ladies who had made my day successful after 4 hours of trauma without knowing what had happened. Maybe they may realise it some day after reading this incident.   

Academy days: The wrong hand

The days in academy can never be forgotten in an army officer’s life as it forms a part of his childhood in services. If you pickup any biography of a renowed army man it will definitely have a chapter on his academy days. It is during this time that all of us coming from different parts of this diversified nation come to a common grid after the trg period. During this process various incidences connected with humour take place which become memorable for life and such nostalgic times are cherished during the course socials even after decades where everyone  forgets his rank and falls to the same grid to recall the past memories of academy days.

One such incidence took place in 1987 during a ‘Grenade session’. The ustaad taught us in a theory class on how to launch a grenade after explaining its parts on the blackboard placed on the easle which we all listened carefully sitting on a semicircular concrete bench under a  banyan tree besides river tons in IMA. He very clearly explained how a clip is removed with the left hand while holding a dummy grenade in the right with its lever facing the palm so that the lever is not released even inadvertently. After this he made each one of us practice by taking us to the actual grenade firing site. Every one  waiting in a single file  was called  one by one with a dummy grenade wherein after extracting the pin from left hand the grende was thrown behind the protective wall with the right hand. After this the clip was handed over to the ustaad and the cadet ducked down his head for a few moments depicting to hear the sound of the blasting grenade and thereafter came out of the trench allowing the next person to follow the same drill. After doing sufficient practice the D day came after two days when actual live grenade firing was to be carried out.

The first cadet came and performed as practiced. After taking out the pin from the grenade with the left hand and throwing the grenade behind the wall with the right he handed over the clip to the ustaad and ducked down his head to hear the sound of the blast before proceeding further to get out of the trench. After hearing the blast with excitement  he proceeded further and came out of the trench. Likewise he was followed by the second cadet and it carried on with everyone. Finally it was Prasad who came for his debut grenade launch. He was a left hander and could understand hindi with great difficulty but by watching everyone the drill was set in his mind with the visual mode of learning. He came with the grenade in his left hand took out the pin with his right hand and threw the pin behind the protective wall instead of the grenade and handed over the grenade to the ustaad while bending down to hear the blast ducking his head between his knees.

“Arey yeh kya kar rahe ho GC “shouted the ustaad and with a good reflex action and his wisdom he  threw away the grenade behind the wall and also ducked down joining Prasad. The grenade blasted after 3 seconds.

Thank God ! Such Ustaads with mettle are posted to IMA to deal with such situations.

Prasad is now a Brigadier in the Army and has more than three commendation cards to his credit.

When no one dared (A real life incident)

Reading stories of bravery and valour in our history books and hearing them from granny is a part of almost everyone growing up; but experiencing it live is an act which requires justice to be done to it by sharing so as to encourage these unsung heroes and ensure that their acts of bravery are well spread all over. One such incident occurred at Babina (Acronym for British Army Base in Native Asia); a small cantonment near Jhansi in central India on 19Dec13 at the construction site of Married Accommodation Project (MAP) where buildings were being constructed at full swing.

It was a sunny day as if stolen from the god’s kitchen himself in the early winters. The sky was clear with the birds flying in formation while their winged companions chirped sitting on the trees around. The labour had just started off with their work of carrying concrete, aggregate, bricks to various building blocks; while some were busy in painting and plastering the surfaces.  Vakil, a middle aged foreman who was in charge of brickwork was filling the rooftops (divided into various segments with the help of small bunds of mud made by his companion) with 3 inches deep water. This was being done to check the leakage/seepage of the roof.  He carried on with his work holding a flexible water pipe in the soft cool breeze standing on the rooftop of first floor humming his favourite tune thinking of his dear village where he was to go the next day after receiving his wages from the contractor. His companion, Ramji helped him repair the bunds to prevent water leakage from them. Vakil suddenly noticed his companion, Ramji slapping himself on his face and neck and shouting for help. While he looked at him with curiosity to find out the reason, Ramji rushed towards the ladder rung getting rid of some honey bees which had attacked him. There was no beehive nearby which Ramji could have tempered by mistake but when Vakil looked up towards the sky he noticed a swarm of bees passing over them.  Meanwhile Vakil also felt some bees hovering around his body and he immediately started thrashing his hands swiftly to get rid of them. Ramji somehow managed to get down from the rooftop and ran to a safe place on the terrace of the ground floor. No sooner did Vakil get rid of the two bees crushing them to death under his feet that a swarm of bees in thousands attacked him all at once making him topple down to the rooftop that too face down in 3 inches of deep water. Covering him all over and stinging on the exposed portions of his body: Face hands, neck and feet; the angry bees continued their horrendous vengeance for their 2 comrades crushed to death. The man under the siege yelled for help but nobody heard him. When the labourers working at the site came to know of the incident through Ramji who had escaped, they all left the site and ran for their own safety. There was not a single person in a radius of 200m from the place of incident. He continued yelling for help but no one dared to go near him for their own safety to face stings of a thousand bees. Never in his dreams must have Vakil thought of that all his colleagues who worked with him day and night would leave him in such a predicament to die. He kept on screaming with sheer agony but his voice fell on deaf ears.

Army, considered to be the last resort turned to be true to its name as one of the jawan working in a nearby officer’s mess heard the story from Ramji, the escapee and came forward for rendering help  along with  two of his colleagues. They took a couple of blankets from a nearby source and it was L/Nk BB Rao who was the first person to climb up the iron rungs covering his own self with a blanket while holding the other in his hand to reach the rooftop for the victim who lay nearly unconscious with his face submerged in water on the roof top. He immediately threw a blanket on him which made some bees fly away from over his body protecting him from further attack of the savage bees. He then applied all possible efforts to pull him towards the ladder rung but was himself attacked by hundreds of bees which managed to enter his own blanket for which he had to run for saving his own life. With great difficulty he somehow managed to return back to safety but singly leaving the victim there on his own again. He however did a good job by placing a blanket over Vakil to protect him from further stings.

 The yelling voice of help became dimmer with time with no one to save soon becoming unconscious Vakil who was also completely drenched with his head dipped in water. The spectators only watched the building from a distance looking helplessly at each other’s face expecting a miracle to happen. The message was however conveyed to the supervisory staff by the labourers who soon reached the place only to see the watching crowd watch Vakil  die in pain. The daring attempt to rescue him had failed making the situation more complex and discouraging than before.

‘Where there is a will there is a way’ is rightly said. Added to this ‘Where there are daring people army may not be the last resort’. Two heroes emerged from the crowd: Watan singh, a young  civil engineer who was the Supervisor of the area and  his Foreman, Misra. Without caring for their own safety and knowing the result of an earlier failed rescue attempt  they both took a second initiative and proceeded with blankets to the place where Vakil was moaning with pain. Controlling his emotions and fear of the stings of the savage bees Watan climbed up the rooftop and dared to approach the victim, Vakil while Misra stood at the topmost rung ready to receive Vakil at the edge of the roof. Watan clasped  Vakil in his arms alongwith his drenched blanket  and dragged him towards the ladder rung without caring for the bees who stung him all over his exposed body parts. It was a difficult task as the weight of the wet blanket of Vakil added tremendously to his body weight in addition to the weight of blanket Watan was carrying on him. He somehow managed to bring him to the edge of the roof top and hung Vakil’s legs down on the rung holding his upper torso where Misra received the complete weight from him and brought Vakil down safely on the terrace of the ground floor descending each rung spaced a feet apart step by step.  They finally managed to bring   swollen Vakil down with their combined efforts and daring will. Vakil was still shivering badly with his body which had become completely red and was shouting in a state of delirium. Meanwhile the message was sent to Military Hospital for help who reacted promptly in sending the medical help. He was administered first aid and emergency drugs at the hospital which saved his life just in time.

It was with the combined efforts of  L/Nk BB Rao who took the first daring  initiative   apart from the main heroes, Watan singh and Misra who do deserve a bravery award that the life of Vakil was saved. The efforts put in by the Army doctor, Maj S Kaur and her Assistant, who took out more than 100 stings from the body of Vakil with a forcep and administration of the life saving drugs into his body without wasting a moment which saved Vakil’s life also needs to be well appreciated. BRAVO! to the saviours; the  real heroes.

Moral of the story:

1              Never fiddle with a honey bee. If the swarm is passing over you just kneel down with your head in between your legs and make no movement till it passes away. They are very intelligent and attack within a fraction of second the moment they come to know that someone has harmed their companion.

2    2                         Spread the word of emergency at all the concerned places at the earliest so that time in getting help is not wasted. Tele/mob is the fighting machine which proves to be most effective at such times.  

SAVE HIRALAL

Babina Maha Utsav 2013  :  Save Hiralal !

Babina is a small town with population less than a lac but is on the map due to location of a major cantonment. The only famous thing in civil market is a shop of curtains for which people come from far and wide to purchase them. The town recently had a big mela organised by the locals who were  villagers and named it ‘Babina Mahautsav’.

  The area was full of colourful stalls, the train and magic shows. The display of utensils from steel to earthern pots, eatables from paani puri to Chinese noodles proved that the villagers are aware of what’s on in the cities. The most interesting  part was the show of Hiralal the donkey which stole the show. Hiralal was an intelligent donkey nicely trained and decorated who was the only hero of the arena where he moved in circles and performed to let its owner earn for his living with a ticket for Rs 10/- per person. All the audience surrounded the circle where he  performed with the ringmaster who stood in the middle of a circular tent holding a steel chain in his hands. Hiralal kept moving on the periphery of the circle. He was soon asked the first question,

“Who is the lady wearing a specs? “As he heard this he stopped near a lady who was wearing specs and not only that he pointed at her by touching with one of his ears. This was followed by claps by everyone. The smart donkey then again started to move like in a game of  musical chairs. While he was on the move a second question was asked by the ringmaster.

“Which boy is wearing a white shirt and a black trouser?”

The beautifully decorated donkey went and stood by a young boy who smiled and caressed him.A third question was followed,

“Which women is the  most faithful to her husband?”

He stopped and stood in front of one of the ladies and pointed her with his ear.The audience applauded again  while the lady happy with Hiralal’s  performance took out a Rs 10 note and tucked it on his forehead under his reins. Soon the next emotional question was asked

“Which person has liked the show the most?” 

The donkey came near me and pointed with his long ear. I also tug a Rs 10 note on his forehead. He moved ahead.

While he moved he stood for a few seconds when suddenly     
 was  whipped by the ringmaster and he galloped a few feet
 to avoid being hit by the chain. All the happiness gained in
the  show turned into anger as this was an inhuman act of
cruelty to the animal. Soon the show was over after he answered
 a few more questions correctly.

While the crowd dispersed I went to the ring master and asked him not to hit his donkey the way he tried as he earns him his bread and it is unlawful to do that. He replied that he whipped him for not letting him stop as he would have urinated otherwise.

Hum galti karne par hi maarte hai ( We hit only when he commits a mistake) he said in hindi.

“But still you should not do this to him as amounts to cruelty.” I replied him back and walked away knowing it would have a very little but some effect on him.

The show was nice but the amount of noise pollution which the donkey was subjected to by the DJ band and loudspeakers was not worthy rather it was sinful on his part to whip the obedient animal for answering  the call of nature.

 Such persons should be made aware of offences of cruelty against animals by the organisers and brought to books at least by the local administrations conducting the show. The poor animal cannot say this himself so it is incumbent on the real humans who witness this act to act as his advocate. Keeping silent and not ticking the person doing this would be like becoming devil’s advocate.

I hope this reaches the Animal Rights Association as soon as possible as such events will continue at some other place by the same person and Hiralal would have to perform again. The photos are the evidence of the event which took place at Babina Budh market grounds on 14Feb2013.