Utho Parth, Gandeev Sambhalo!

India's national motto, emblazoned at the base of the four lions which proclaims "satyameva jayate" is too sad a tune to play in the time of the vanishing tiger, also our national animal and now a commentary on how fast things have deteriorated on all fronts! It is a sad echo of what we were and where we aspired to be...and where we stand today!
We need a change of pace...a change in attitude, a complete overhaul in our thinking and working or this nation of a few billions is jaggernauting itself to disaster!

A clarion call would be more appropriate...UTHO PARTH, GANDEEV SAMBHALO!

That is what the Lord himself told a crying, defeated Arjun on the battlefield....Rise and fight, . The time for inaction is over. Fight now, for the waiting is over...fight, for this is the right path....fight for liberation from injustice and tyranny! Fight...as now there lies no escape! Fight, for now the balance between dharma and adharma is tilting"
Sometimes truth does not prevail...and has to be fought for!
Akin to these times where the corrupt lead us towards no future.....

Utho Parth, Gandeev sambhalo!

Anna Hazare tried to get up......the lokpal bill should have been passed by now.......a transparent machinery started....when we set robbers and bandits to divide a nation's wealth, what will be the result?
The Indian airline is in peril...do you understand what it means if it goes under and is closed? The private airlines will rule the roost and hike their fares 50 times overnight! Air travel will then be unaffordable for most of us.....did you not see what was done to onions?? We will be held hostage again! And there will be no tired, governmental airline we so love to hate, to save our goat!

Utho Parth, Gandeev Sambhalo!

The farmers are debt ridden, committing suicide like lemmings......they earn a squalid living. The consumers of their produce pay a hefty sum and are in turn, desperate. Where does the difference in produce when it starts out till it reaches us, go? Who benefits? Its benefits not you and me or the farmer! Where does the money go? Why do we allow such massive theft?

Utho Parth, Gandeev Sambhalo!

We are lead by ruthless, money whore-mongers with only self gain on their agenda......and they are above the law! They refuse to be governed by the same rules by which they govern us...they pillage and plunder like Ghenghis Khan and are not held accountable.

Utho Parth, Gandeev Sambhalo!

When the lawless and unprincipled govern, what will be the future? Who will protect the masses....Kalki, the 10th and final avataar might not come a-calling sometime soon! The Lord makes one pretty desperate before he comes personally to deliver. It took the Pandavas 13 years of wanderings and then "the mother of all wars" before they got what was due......it took Ram 14 yrs and another maha-sangram to win back his wife and take over his kingdom...and he was the Lord himself, in human form!
I think we can safely assume that we will have to battle ourselves out of this mire of corruption and helplessness that holds us so firmly by the feet and refuses to let go!

So, Utho Parth, Gandeev Sambhalo!

For all our sacred texts say that a righteous man will have to fight when surrounded by unrighteousness.
For the inability and unwillingness to take action is also a grave sin.
For to endure adharma weakens the cosmic fibre!

Therefore for the present "Satyamev jayate" must give way to "Utho Parth, Gandeev Sambhalo"

Another perspective...

Another perspective....and something to look forward to! More "kashmiri freedom fighters" in India......and a sorely understaffed Indian army, air force and navy! Will the Indian soldier finally get his due....will we realise who stands between us and total chaos, finally? And will they again provide us with legends.....and not fail us, like they have always done before? Will they prove to us again that some things in this world are shining and pure and indebt us again forever?

I do hope this time around, the dear old "Kashmiri fighters" target some Indian politicians and their offices!

Plus maybe after taking a few bombs again on our heads, we will come up with some sort of national pride and do something concrete......learn lessons from Israel!! Hire them as coaches and make them our pals. Stop just being mincemeat!! Stop being so afraid...stop being ninnies!!

Two things will happen....either India shapes up and becomes a tiger in its defense.....or remains a "non aligned, non violent" country everybody tramples upon!

Am not afraid for I believe that the world is linked together in mysterious ways...and gruesome, Machiavellian politics has its own pitfalls!

What was 9/11...collateral damage? Or was it proof that riding the "terrorist tiger" is a dangerous thing to do!!

Though I do really really pray that these "kashmiri freedom fighters" find further greener pastures beckoning! And meet those who encouraged them, made them rich and fat! Sometimes true gold is found only in the West!


PS Maybe we all are really preparing to meet Kalki. For if below is what really happened, then we live in EVIL, EVIL times....and its time mankind again started afresh.....

Are we now going to mourn the passing of Osama??

Oh...GOOD GRIEF!! Are we now going to mourn the passing of Osama?? Seems like his death has put India in a truckload of manure....

I fail to understand politics!

It must take a maggoty brain to come up with stuff like this....such warped thinking and procedures!

In simple words, does it mean that Pakistan and America will remain buddy buddy, despite Pak being a terrorist haven with an address book filled with all famous monsters?? And India pays the price of being a placid cow??

It seems so wrong, somehow....though I know that countries operate on absolutely fantastically corrupt rules where nothing is sacred! Except economic gain!!

And the most sanctimonious talk comes from the most badmash countries!!

Global terrorism, indeed! And the war against terror...indeed!!

God save us all!

I think India needs everyone's prayers......we seem to be in the line of fire, somehow!

We are the biggest victims of terror......yet we are on the crosshairs of terrorists and anti-terrorists alike!!

Does this make any sense??

It just tells one very emphatically that "Talk softly but carry a big stick!"

And that "Xama shobti uss bhujang ko, jiske paas garal ho.....(forgiveness suits only the very very strong....what does forgiveness signify in a weak man, but cowardice?).

So when India proclaims loudly that "We are non aligned and come in peace"....her neighbours giggle and promptly swallow up some of her territory....because they have learnt over time that she will not defend herself, despite all the posturing...and the world denies her a rightful place for she has no powerful allies and stands alone!

She does not defend her citizens inside or out of the country...she is led by the absolutely characterless and the very dregs of society....people with no moral fiber and not much education who stymie at every turn the few with vision......

One can debate in a thousand different ways about Osama and Obama's maha-sangram.......but the truth is that both countries are in cahoots and it is an extremely unhealthy environment for India! To be surrounded by hostiles with dangerous plans...to be the biggest victim of terror and then to listen to Pak declare loudly that Pakistan suffers most grievously from the terrorists it has home grown organically in every backyard...in a thousand different names.....AND THEN TO NET 19 BILLION DOLLARS ANNUALLY AS AID!!.....

I worry!!

An island of sanity in this maddening world!

Brings back fond memories...my baba would take us first to the campus Gurudwara and then the temple! Both adjacent! I still cannot enter a Gurudwara without remembering him! Went to Leh army temple this year, the Corps mandir, on Hanuman Jayanti! The army had the Gurudwara, Church and Temple all in one hall...not even a partition! Even a Tibetan shrine! I found it unremarkable....the day I hear army chaps discuss religion disrapagingly, I think it will be a most frightening day for me. When Raj Jackass Thackeray rabble roused "Maharastra For the Marathas/ Marathis?, I actually prayed that the very same issue should turn around and boomerang on him a thousandfold! It did...but since he is still standing, the boomarang will strike again, hopefully before long! Everytime I hear a ghoul in the garb of a politician talk of 'protecting the minority" and religion, I wish i could see him lashed instantly! Dead, destroyed, rotting.. and all that he represents, lying as dust!

I maintain that service even for a year as a Defence person for each man and woman should be mandatory! And spent guarding our frontiers! We shall then see who survives...The Hindu, the Muslim, the Christian, the Sikh...or just the Indian!

As a child, I saw lohri celebrations and danced around bonfires and it was a very welcome day for one ate as many revaris and peanut and popcorn preparations as one could desire! Only very greedy children will understand this joy. I have had sevai on Eid, sent home by fellow officers wives', in huge bowls for they did know that my mum possessed a greedy child! I have celebrated Pongal, by dancing in group dances, singing songs I did not know but learnt by rote! I did not even care what Pongal was! it was a holiday and great fun for the entire campus has evening programmes! I considered myself Sikh when my dad was posted in Punjab...would wish all "Sat Sri Akal" without knowing what it meant! Pronounced it as 'Sassriakal" and thought it was one word! I never heard my elders talk of their religion as the chosen one, the others less! I never heard them preach hatred or intolerence! Jamalludin, in my class, was merely a boy with a long name! I did not know about halal and jhatka meat till well after marriage...yes, where did I live?....I lived in defence campuses! I was in college when Indira Gandhi was assasinated. And I was a-boil with rage and horror. Was a "civilian" by then, living in hostel, facing sexist comments by strange men on roads and trying hard to control my temper and not go chasing after them and telling them to call their moms "sexy"! (I blame all mothers when their sons misbehave with women....why on earth did their mothers not do their jobs! i have a son and the day some girl complains that he called her "maal, or sexy", or something similar. or that he pinched her, manhandled her, I will slap myself first and then think what to do with my son later!) Sexy is NOT a compliment....it does not mean beauty! It implies that the woman is objectified! And while we are on this topic, Ila Arun did women a great disservice by singing the Choli song! If the music director wanted to have the song sung, HE should have sung it! Sly, double meaning, low bred hound! I have had this song sung to me...believe me, all my ladylike instincts abandoned me then and all I wanted to do was chase that sexist ass, sit on him and pummel him till he screamed for mercy! I have actually chased a guy on a cycle once when he sang out merrily to me....he was lucky as I have never been a runner yet outrage fuelled me to the extent that I ran along him for a few seconds till he pedalled hard with his rear in the air, and got away! May Ila Arun, the music writer and all the masterminds behind such songs find that their "art" flees them the instant they get down to penning such godawful lines! Service will benefit them too. Who will one call "maal" in a campus? The lady or girl is a fellow officer's wife or daughter or sister! And she knows her place in the world! And she is not afraid! She probably will not go for backup and will scream so long and hard that one will wish for a quick beating and then a getaway! The Forces do not foster an eve teasing culture!

Newspapers talk of drunk jawans misbehaving with women on trains...as a girl travelling alone, it was my fervent wish "God, let me get in the compartment filled with jawans! They will protect me! Save me from the daily commuters and the "students"! You can only begin to understand me if you have been a young female travelling alone in our trains! Polka dotted with blue bruises by the time one disembarked! Marked as prey the moment you were spotted! I would go up to the rowdiest, roughest looking lout, look him in the eyes, call him "bhaiya" and ask for help with my luggage! Never failed! The Forces teaches you survival too!

I got carried away....do read the article below....worth a read!

May our Armed Forces win the favour of all Gods! May they prevail! And may their jobs again acquire the glory and honour that was once associated with them! MAY THE WARRIOR ALWAYS BE ACKNOWLEDGED BY THE ONES HE PROTECTS....IN LIFE AND IN DEATH AND FAR BEYOND THE GRAVE!

...and may the little bit of the 'forces girl' left in me survive as long as I live for she is one of my best bits!
NISHI


Any one more secular than the army?

As a serving army officer, I never stop marvelling at the gullibility of our countrymen to be provoked with alacrity into virulence in the name of religion. I have never heard the word 'secular' during all my service -- and yet, the simple things that are done simply in the army make it appear like an island of sanity in a sea of hatred.

In the army, each officer identifies with the religion of his troops. In regiments where the soldiers are from more than one religion, the officers -- and indeed all jawans attend the weekly religious prayers of all the faiths. How many times have I trooped out of the battalion mandir and, having worn my shoes, entered the battalion church next door? A few years ago it all became simpler -- mandirs, masjids, gurudwars and churches began to share premises all over the army. It saved us the walk.

Perhaps it is so because the army genuinely believes in two central 'truths' -- oneness of god and victory in operations. Both are so sacred we cannot nitpick and question the basics.
In fact, sometimes the army mixes up the two! On a visit to the holy cave at Amarnath a few years ago I saw a plaque mounted on the side of the hill by a battalion that had once guarded the annual Yatra. It said, 'Best wishes from -....- battalion. Deployed for Operation Amarnath.
On another instance, I remember a commanding officer ordered the battalion maulaviji to conduct the proceedings of Janamashtmi prayers because the panditji had to proceed on leave on compassionate grounds. No eyebrows were raised. It was the most rousing and best-prepared sermon on Lord Krishna I have ever had the pleasure of listening to.

On the Line of Control, a company of Khemkhani Muslim soldiers replaced a Dogra battalion. Over the next few days, the post was shelled heavily by Pakistanis, and there were a few non-fatal casualties.

One day, the junior commissioned officer of the company, Subedar Sarwar Khan walked up to the company commander Major Sharma and said, "Sahib, ever since the Dogras left, the mandir has been shut. Why don't you open it once every evening and do aarti? Why are we displeasing the gods?"

Major Sharma shamefacedly confessed he did not know all the words of the aarti. Subedar Sarwar went away and that night, huddled over the radio set under a weak lantern light, painstakingly took down the words of the aarti from the post of another battalion!
How many of us know that along the entire border with Pakistan, our troops abstain from alcohol and non-vegetarian food on all Thursdays? The reason: It is called the Peer day -- essentially a day of religious significance for the Muslims.

In 1984, after Operation Bluestar there was anguish in the Sikh community over the desecration of the holiest of their shrines. Some of this anger and hurt was visible in the army too.

I remember the first Sikh festival days after the event -- the number of army personnel of every religious denomination that thronged the regimental gurudwara of the nearest Sikh battalion was the largest I had seen. I distinctly remember each officer and soldier who put his forehead to the ground to pay obeisance appeared to linger just a wee bit longer than usual. Was I imagining this? I do not think so. There was that empathy and caring implicit in the quality of the gesture that appeared to say, "You are hurt and we all understand."
We were deployed on the Line of Control those days. Soon after the news of disaffection among a small section of Sikh troops was broadcast on the BBC, Pakistani troops deployed opposite the Sikh battalion yelled across to express their 'solidarity' with the Sikhs.
The Sikh havildar shouted back that the Pakistanis had better not harbour any wrong notions. "If you dare move towards this post, we will mow you down."

Finally, a real -- and true -- gem....

Two boys of a Sikh regiment battalion were overheard discussing this a day before Christmas. "Why are we having a holiday tomorrow?" asked Sepoy Singh.
"It is Christmas," replied the wiser Naik Singh.
"But what is Christmas?"
"Christmas," replied Naik Singh, with his eyes half shut in reverence and hands in a spontaneous prayer-clasp, "is the guruparb of the Christians."

Life....the journey's been good!

After reading Subroto Bagchi’s article which you had sent, I had the overwhelming urge to read the book”Go, Kiss The World.” Coincidentally Ajit was here when I picked it up at a bookstore and he told me he had it lying back at his office. I read it and am re-reading it! It’s a powerful book made all the more so as, I think, we all can identify with his writing….he could be describing my parents’ and grandparents’ philosophy of life.

We went through a large part of childhood minus a fridge and then a TV as my dad could not see their need! And we walked….everywhere! I never gave these incidents much importance! I have always believed that I have been lucky…now I realize it is so because of the attitude I had imbibed unconsciously! When I got married to Ajit and went around in the beat-up vehicle, I was really grateful that I had bid farewell to the DTC buses…and to the bad hair days courtesy my dad’s scooter! A bare house, post wedding, was pure possibility….so many things to look forward to! The yearly bonus lifted my spirits till it came again…Ajit now gives me that amount as spending money and it is not appreciated half as much!

I will read out the book to Sangram and we will pause and talk about it. We all talk about how times have changed….but I was overcome with nostalgia for what we had while growing up and what our kids will never get! A simple life….where possessions were just that….they did not define us! Four glasses of milk in a day religiously…only actual throwing up could make one miss that ghastly glass once! One cold drink per child not matter what the occasion…no counting calories, no fussing over food…we ran about so much we ate everything that was edible and sometimes, some that was not…my teenaged sister ate an entire rasgolla tin, after lunch, (all 48 pieces) which had been left as it was “suspect”! She said that they were ‘sourish’ so she drank all the rasa to make up! We observed her carefully that afternoon but she suffered no ill-effects!

Sometimes, some things make one pause and reflect. This book did this to me. And as I re-evaluate my life and weigh it, I know I would not make any changes…the journey has been good!

Roots

It was a typical pre-Indepence village in the heart of UP, baked mud houses with thatched roofs, a cow or two tied in the middle of the courtyard, goats leaping free, chickens scratching in the dust, no electricity, no running water, no sewage system. The village had a one section school held under a sprawling banyan which protected them during the blazing summer months. During winter, the solitary teacher and his charges moved out from under the shade in the welcome heat of a benign sun. The boy was a happy lad, much favoured by his mother, running about barefeet with his myriad cousins, much like all the other kids in play, climbing trees and jumping in the vast pond where buffaloes joined them on particularly hot days, doing what little boys do when they are able to run free. What separated him from the others was when he was in school! The school had boys of varied ages, all sitting on the ground, learning aloud by rote what their ‘master’ deemed fit. Sometimes he would send Bholu to wash his buffalo during school hours, sometimes it was Chiddi who went to assist his wife in her household chores…the school teacher was the undisputed king and his word law! He would sometimes get up leisurely and catch a daydreaming boy by his ear and wring him rudely back to reality, sometimes whack a slow to learn boy on his back, secure in his knowledge that physical pain often made minds keener and sharper. He never touched the young lad. One day, he called the father and told him that the lad had learnt all that could be learnt in the little open school under the tree. The father sent his boy to a larger school which was far further and one had to walk a few miles to reach it. For the sake of company, the father sent his older son and a few nephews along too. The lad soon outpaced his elder brothers and completed his schooling.

The father had realized that he had an unusual boy on his hands and made the decision of sending the boy to the city where as was expected, the boy fared well and was ready for college. The father sold some land, gathered some money and sent his son abroad for further education. The boy lived and studied in a foreign land, among an alien culture with limited resources. He made friends and lived and laughed and studied ferociously. And after seven years of exile he came back home.

Two days later he was attending his own wedding to a bride he had not seen, let alone met. She came from a vastly different background than his. He applied for a job, got it and so joined the Indian Air Force at 26 yrs.

In time he had two daughters who went to convent schools and sometimes, his wife and daughters would giggle helplessly when he called a donkey a dunkey. Once he told his girl that a “steak” was pronounced as “stake’ and she did not believe him until he brought out the dictionary. He was a fun father but very short of time and when the girls would come into his room to bid him goodnight, they would find him sitting, surrounded with books and scribbling away in reams and reams of paper. When they got up in the morning, the light in his room would still be on and when they peeped in, he would still be studying. On rare occasions, he would suddenly burst out of that cell and sing songs in a language none of the women could understand and then disclose that it was a French or a German song to his wide eyed audience.

The younger daughter would creep into that room and do her homework very importantly there and if she had important questions, of which there were many, she would always go to him for answers. When all the neighbours bought fridges, he did not as he found it pointless. And TVs were relegated to the same category….he would teach all his kids and their playmates on holidays under a guava tree in the lawn and the lessons were endless. The kids would disappear on by one, on noiseless feet after a few hours….the final hapless youngster would ultimately be rescued by an irate mother late in the day. He believed firmly in feeding the kids well and in physical exercise.

The children grew up and married, left home. And one day, the younger daughter who was now a mother herself, decided to go with her father back to the little village “to discover her roots” and so father and daughter came full circle to the tiny village with the mud baked houses and thatched roofs. And the girl turned woman then realized who her father really was. He was an ordinary Indian with an extraordinary mind who had leapt out of a village straight into the big world, straddling two lifestyles, different cultures, who had changed so much yet remained so intrinsically the same! Such a long journey traversed with such humility and matter of factness!

Yes, the lad is my father and I’m the younger daughter. I speak English effortlessly (French with effort) and drive myself around, equally at home in saris and jeans. I have one child and two dogs and live a life so different from the women in the village that we could be living in separate universes. And it happened all because a young brilliant lad in a village had the courage to leap into the vast unknown!

On Independence Day

My grandfather was a colonel in the Army and his three sons joined him there. My earliest memory is how alive the house seemed with all these four 6 footers together. Larger than life with fierce moustaches of all types…my nana amd mamas were my earliest heroes. I extended this same unconditional love to the Armed Forces. The olive greens, the black boots lined up in a military row, gleaming like only a soldier’s boots can, the dress uniforms with the polished gold bottons, the solitary camp cot whose narrow confines held all of us wriggling in it like puppies, the white enamel mugs which seemed to hold the very essence of this glamorous life….I think I loved all of it with a white hot intensity.

My father was also in the Forces…I saw another aspect of the Forces with him…fearless warriors patrolling the very skies….I grew up on campuses and I did not know what fear meant. We were the military kids and we were the protectors. I remember being puzzled when adults questioned me “who are you?’…I actually replied that I was an Indian. I got married outside the forces and saw a different side of life…but my love affair with the Forces never came to a halt. I have seen life come a full circle…when I was really young, the finest of the fine entered our Armed Forces. It was a matter of pride and honour to serve one’s country. And those who joined here could be spotted a mile off…they never tolerated any injustice , they were truly fearless…I had one mama who must have been in his late forties, who while escorting me beat up a guy who said something very nasty to me and who had made the mistake of thinking that I was traveling alone! The way my mama thrashed him with just his bare hands was a sight to behold. The predator turned prey did not have breath in his body to beg for mercy! Contrast that to the hordes who pass by when a woman is being molested and choose to keep mum! I have countless such stories…my nana aged but he still remained a lion. When one walked with him, one could sense the aura of powerful protection he exuded!

Then I saw how people began avoiding a career in the Forces. To become a soldier was now associated with foolishness…keeping pace with the marching materialism, fighting for one’s country was equated with outdated notions of idealism. What place does idealism have in our lives today? What do we teach our kids…do we teach them at winning is what counts or do we teach them that losing gracefully too is an art? Money is the biggest motivator for us today…money and the soldier are opposing forces. A Soldier cannot be money minded! A business man is money oriented, so is a trader, so is a householder! A soldier protects and defends…he fights. No more and no less!

And what do we give him in return? I ask you this question…how do we repay a man who takes up arms in our defence? How can we repay them? These questions are so relevant today because we see it for ourselves that our systems are collapsing but our Armed Forces still stand tall. Give a soldier his due. He asks for nothing so should we take him so much for granted? While rescuing frightened people during the Mumbai attacks in November, a soldier told them “Do not fear! To get at you, they will have to get me first,”….just one line but what a world of meaning!

If we all did our duty as bravely and unflinchingly as the soldier, we would be in a far happier position today. For to live life with honour is still one of the finest tenets to follow!