Welcome Home Cheetahs

The cat family has a new addition in the country their cousin Cheetahs who were unfortunately hunted down to extinction in the pre-independence era are back with a bang. The PM himself released them into Kuno Sanctuary in the Hindustan ka Dil, Madhya Pradesh. MP has been a home to Tigers, Leopards, Panthers and were keen to host the Lions too, unfortunately Gir did not want to part with their exclusive preserve. But well now they have the Cheetahs! Although we are ignoramuses, when it comes to wild life, but we do enjoy seeing them in their habitat and as aware gentry we would like all the species to flourish. We have a connect with the Cat family of sorts. We had a pet wild cat many moons ago, it was she who adopted us, injured, she was cared for by my mother, thereafter she became a part of the family, but on her own terms, i.e. she would come at her own will demand her share of milk and affection and disappear. But this connect was with Cheetahs, Lions, Jaguars…..

We had the Cheetahs, Jaguars and Lions on the wild side alongside the natives of Americas Apaches and Injuns. We also had the Eagles, Foxies along with Hunters and Killers living together, not always peacefully. We would bay for each other's blood in the ring but at the end of the day we would smoke the peace pipe even though smoking was officially banned there. My friends would have guessed as to what exactly am I referring to, for those from the civilised world, it was our alma mater the National Defence Academy. Divided into twelve squadrons those days; each deriving its name from the phonetic code used for alphabets, with Alpha denoting the letter "A" and Zulu for "Z". So we were Alpha to Lima, twelve squadrons and sure enough not enamoured by the rather mundane phonetic code names, our ancestors in the academy rightly adopted the more ferocious sounding epithets. So Alpha became Apache and Charlie became the Cheetahs. The Cat family of NDA had Cheetahs, Jaguars who were otherwise known with the  feminine  Juliette and Lima adopted Lions or may be Loins after yesteryears villain Ajit's iconic," Sara shahar mujhe Loin ke naam se janta hai!"( The whole city knows me as Loin). We had the Head Hunters for the rather hospitable Hotel and Killers who believed in "Kill'em Kut'em, but Kneel Knot" for the  dour sounding "Kilo". Apaches were not satisfied being the numero uno in this list and had adopted the Apaches while their cousins from India too followed suit with Injuns, wisely they stayed away from Incas lest they fade into oblivion. Bravo were happy with being Brave, but Delta were Daggers drawn with everyone, Echo were soaring high as the Eagles and Foxies despite their scholarly aptitude wanted to believe they were equally cunning. Golfies responded to just the war cry of "chiki laka chiki laka!".  

There were more squadrons added after we passed out way back in 1986 as part of the expansion of the academy, Mike, November, Oscar, Papa and may be even Quebec, rumour has it that the girls in the academy have been allotted the Romeo Squadron. Frankly I haven’t kept track of the monikers adopted by these Johnny Come Lately variety. For us the Deadly Dozen that we were, were the best!

Seat Belts

 It was the unfortunate demise of Cyrus Mistry on 4th September  in a tragic road accident which brought the focus on seat belts for rear seat passengers. Seat belts for the front seats in four wheelers is mandatory as per traffic regulations in vogue all over the world. But we Indians take pride in not following the rules, so, often we have front seat driver or co driver  giving the belt a miss. After all, who wants any restrictions, when we were born free in a free country, we are free to do what we wish to. Seat belts warning signs be damned and by the way, they can easily be silenced by hoodwinking the system by merely mating the two ends without actually getting under the seat belt. Traffic policemen in India, by and large are magnanimous people and ignore this violation, they get their coffers full with Masks violations in the Covid era, or with merely over-speeding ones, with speed restrictions of 40 and 50 km per hour, drivers are bound to overshoot.

I have had my share of an escapade where the seat belt was the saviour. While on UN Peace Keeping Mission in Cote D'Ivoire, out on a vehicle based patrol with a Pakistani officer driving the Toyota Forerunner and I was the Co-driver. Cote d'Ivoire incidentally has an excellent road network from one end of the country to the other and with sparse population and a strife torn nation then, the speed limit of vehicles was often ignored. Unfortunately this one time, we took a detour from the highway, onto the dirt track and my friend's reflexes were a little too slow. The vehicle lost its balance and went turtle, my Pak officer was so scared that he admitted later that he had started to mutter his fatiha (prayers at the time of death), I was nicely strapped on and was hung upside down like a spider in my web of the seat belt. That was the closest I came to being a super hero, the friendly neighbourhood Spiderman. The rear seat was occupied by two more Military Observers from our Team, who too sustained minor injuries. The seat belt came to my rescue, else I would have broken a couple of bones, as it is I am very injury prone. Despite such personal examples, my better half is not convinced and finds it too much of a bother and manages without it most of the time. Interestingly ladies in our household are brave-hearts and all of them decide to give it a skip unless the traffic cops are in close vicinity. 

Three point seat belts in automobiles are different from the strap on seat belts in aircrafts. Aircraft seat belts are a prerequisite during the take off and landing as the flight stewardesses remind us each time we get airborne. We have undertaken flights also without any seat-belts as anyone who has flown in service aircrafts will confirm. When you have meat on hoof        (goats/sheep for the uninitiated), chickens as your co passengers, it is obviously difficult to find seat belts for ourselves. We were just grateful that we secured a seat on the flight which saved us from the drudgery of the road convoy which took two days to cover what the courier flight took merely two hours. Needless to say we had complete faith in our pilots in delivering us in one piece along with our rations.

There is one more species who would like the introduction of seat belts and being made mandatory, have you guessed it, politicians of course, after all which politician wants to let go off his seat of power. I am sure they would all be secretly praying for this invention which would ensure that they too get strapped on for life...

Chanakya

Chanakya or Kautilya has been adopted as the mascot of everything strategic in India, and strategy is synonymous with the Military, after all the men in uniform are the premier arm of the government in execution of this strategy. While the teachings of Chanakya are immortalised in his magnum opus "Arthashatra", but I dare say most of the arm chair strategists who quote him endlessly have hardly read it; their views have been conjured or conceived in our Sand Model Rooms or the War Rooms which have been  aptly named Chanakya or Kautilya. 

Anyway, this piece is as divorced from strategy as chalk is from cheese. Today being a Sunday we were just idling away post lunch and not being fond of the afternoon siesta, we, my better half and self decided to go on a date. That is how Chanakya was discussed, Delhiwallahs  would have guessed it, The Chanakya is a Mall, which is not  for the  hoi polloi. Staying in Chanakyapuri, we thought ourselves to be the Elites too and sure enough in our Sunday best, we stepped into the haloed precincts of The Chanakya. We were like Alice in Wonderland, having stepped into this modern day fantasy world, we were lost at first, trying to fathom, whether it would be propah for us to step in and ask the cost of a few of the items on display. Actually I was in one of those benevolent moods, after admiring some from the displays outside, we gathered the courage to step into one of them and decided to look at the price tag of one of the shawls on display, it was an outrageous 75000/-. My magnanimity and benevolence went ducking for cover immediately and we sneaked out without being noticed. Well frankly we were not noticed even when we stepped in, as the sales persons know their customers well and can differentiate with window shoppers like us, giving us the cold shoulder reminding us without actually saying it that we don't belong there.  To be honest, it is not that one can't afford a 75 grand Shawl, it is just that the cost doesn't seem justified. Our middle class mindset probably keeps us grounded. An occasional extravagance once in a while is relished, but this was definitely not. To be honest i am not sure even if i were a billionaire,  i would still be able to indulge in this. We were wiser and steered clear of the Rolex, Mont Blanc or Ralph Lauren outlets. We came across a small stall with some desi sweets with the tagline, "Be a monster..eat a laddoo". Intrigued I asked him what was monster like in eating a laddoo, he looked at us  urchins with utter disdain and explained that desi sweets are not the flavour here and thus partaking one was almost a cardinal sin earning them the moniker of the monster. We then sought refuge in the Foodhall, knowing here even if the prices were exorbitant it would still not tax my wallet. After all how much could bakery items, spices, veggies and fruits cost ? That basement store provided us some respite as there were some exotic varieties of these were on display which would put any supermarket in Europe to shame. They boasted of Cheese from Belgium, France, Netherlands apart from some local ones here, Thai Basil, Mexican Cherry Tomatoes, California Avocados and what have you!

We finally decided to settle down to a well deserved cup of Darjeeling tea, which unfortunately was not served in China but in a disposable ripple glass and relished it, looking around the gentry which was quite comfortable and at home in the surroundings.  We could see that we didn't belong here and so decided to bring curtains to our adventure and returned home.

Queen is dead Long live the King

"The queen is dead, long live the King", Queen Elizabeth II has finally got her date with her Maker, after having had the longest reign by any British Monarch. Monarchy is probably as old as human civilisation is or  may be as old as the recorded history is.  The immortal quote from George Orwell's Animal Farm "All men are equal, some are more equal than others", though describes the totalitarian societies such as communist regimes. But it is equally apt for any feudal society, although Britain is officially a democracy.  

A monarchy in any form, even a so called parliamentary one, like the British, is inherently a feudal society. But Britain is not alone, as even in this twenty first century there are  42 other monarchies,  spread all over the world cutting across continents, such as Japan, Thailand, Norway, Denmark, Spain, Belgium, Bhutan, Saudi Arabia, Qatar, Jordan, Lesotho and many more. Though most of them are constitutional ones now with the King or Queen being only a titular head of the state, but still the people are so enamoured by the institution that they would rather continue with the system, despite the extravagant costs to the exchequer. Isn't this a little surprising? After all, Britain claims to be the originator of the current democratic systems in vogue in the post Westphalian nation states. Is this attraction purely for sentimental reasons or is it because a Head of the State is sort of mandatory even in parliamentary democracies, it is just that he or she is elected as against being born into royalty. While there may be merits in both the systems. Even an elected Head of the State leads a Royal life thereafter, with the exchequer bearing the costs. A born Royal against an elected one is hardly a choice, except that we get one from different regions and have new ones every five years. 

Queen Elizabeth II to her credit, maintained the decorum of her throne and despite major hiccups such as the failed marriage of King Charles III (then Prince of Wales) and  Lady Diana or Prince Harry-Megan severing their ties with the monarchy. The approval ratings of the Queen remained high, through these turbulent times. Guess what, if King Edward VII had not abdicated the throne, history would have taken a different turn altogether.(Incidentally, we have a connect with King Edward as he was the one who inaugurated my Alma Mater Prince of Wales Royal Indian Military College,RIMC as the then Prince of Wales in circa 1922 and to this day the emblem of our Old Boys Association has the badge of three Ostrich feathers with the motto of 'Ich Dien' meaning 'I Serve'.) Elizabeth being the daughter of King George VI, who ascended the throne, when King Edward chose love over the throne. By the same standards, King Charles III would have found himself in a similar position as his Queen consort was also a divorcee. Monarchy and conspiracies, scandals, palace intrigues are all inter-woven. Nepal suffered one of the worst such tragedies when in Jun 2001 the Prince himself killed (the subsequent investigations blamed it on Prince Birendra) nine members of Royal family of King Birendra Bikram Shah. 

Closer home, every  Royal succession was accompanied by a bloody power struggle, where sons turned against their fathers, Shahjahan and Aurangzeb who even killed his rival Dara Shikoh. There are many such incidents, to that extent these decked up Monarchies are relatively free from any blood bath at least. In ancient India the Royals were reported to be direct descendants of Gods themselves with some tracing their ancestry to Sun, Sooryvanshi while the others were Chandravanshi or Lunar ones.  The colourful lives of some of these Maharajahs have been documented in a book by the same name by Diwan Jarmani Dass, it makes interesting reading. Today we have political or business dynasties as Royalty has formally been given a burial after the abolition of privy purses. Dynasties incidentally have percolated in even other walks of life with fourth or fifth generation men/women in uniform or Legal Eagles, even Medicine as a profession. Then there are some of us who have decided to chart their own course....... and yes this piece has been written in the Queen's English! 

Shamming

"Life is a sham" should be adopted as the anthem of Rimcollians, of course the credit goes to Stephen Wrench for penning the lyrics and even composing it for us. Some of us have just shammed our way through our lives unabashedly. Shamming is not merely hoodwinking your nemesis, incidentally we Rimcollians have perfected it to an art form having copyright over the very concept, at least in the Armed Forces. It was only when we landed in the haloed precincts of National Defence Academy that the epithet of "Shammer" was bestowed on most our creed. Having spent five years doing the same set of physicals, we had the attitude of having been there, done that! We were practically the more evolved species of Cadets along with our brethren from Sainik Schools and Military Schools, we poured scorn over the 'Johnny come lately' who were struggling.  We were the proverbial Abhimanyus who had mastered the art in the wombs, yes you can describe the preparatory schools as the wombs where we were nurtured and then delivered to NDA in due course. There was no shame in shamming, if it did shame you then you ought not to have shammed. Yes there is code of conduct, as to where  one can and the red lines are quite clear, it's your conscience, which keeps you in check.

   Having realised the futility of it all, in our stage of Nirvana, we could literally sleep walk through the usual ragda without even batting an eyelid. This attitude and the tricks of the trade naturally irked the seniors, who realised that their endeavours at making our lives miserable had little or no impact on our well being. One typical example was the front rolls, the execution of which had to be observed as we could measure the whole corridor measuring may be about 80 odd metres was covered in barely four or may be five front rolls, which the greenhorns would probably take about 20 of them to reach the other end. No , there were no special instructions but the technique, if we can call it that, which involved executing almost a dive roll, with the front leg being utilised to provide a spring and  after the roll, a casual two more steps before the next one was executed gave us that "edge". But alas this lasted for a very brief period, till we got caught and were subjected to even harsher forms of punishments. 

Old habits die hard, having tasted blood, most of us found ways and means of simplifying things and finding easier way of doing the mundane rather than wasting our sweat on it. The beauty of this concept was knowing when 'to sham' and 'when not to', so it was never a dilemma. It was crystal clear, the routine ragda was to be shammed out as barring satisfying the ego of the seniors, it did precious little to enhance our skill sets. Shamming in the Drill Square was also considered par for the course, taking your Drill Ustaads for a ride with priceless stratagems as "Falling off a log table" or "Suffering from photosynthesis of the leg" were utilised to dodge the ever-present Drill instructors lurking behind the bushes in every nook and corner. 

Malingering was another form of shamming, wherein the cadet would feign an injury or illness and convince the doctors into awarding him a category for rest and recoup. Some of the tricks which were employed and worked were drinking a hot cup of tea in the hospital canteen and immediately have the thermometer inserted in the mouth, invariably it resulted in the recording of a temperature above normal. Some others had perfected the cut onion in the arm pit trick for a similar end result. Stress fractures  real or imaginary also brought some reprieve, though not an "Att C" or "Sick in Quarter" variety but at least an exemption from Drill,PT and Games for a couple of days.

Be that as it may, having grasped the nuances of life so early in life, that life itself is a sham or is "mithya" in other words. The advaita philosophers would be proud of our sadhna and consequent realisation of the illusoriness of the world. We became converts to the "this too shall pass!" and are living our lives in our respective states of Nirvana.

TO SIR WITH LOVE

 On the occasion of Teacher’s day today, it was the Speaking Tree  (Times of India) which caught my attention, which laid more emphasis on ‘Intuitive knowledge’ vis-a-vis ‘Intellectual’ one. While in Vedic times it was the former which was sought, the Colonial era focussed on the latter. 

I often wonder ,as to why do we realise the contribution of our teachers in shaping our personality, our lives, so late in life. While in school, academy and our other institutions we generally either resent their penchant for perfection,  their strict demeanour or are simply overawed by their immense knowledge and their persona. These years are the formative years of our lives, our professional careers, but more importantly it is their hammers which helped carve out some shape from the rough jagged pieces of rocks that we were. Obviously none relishes these strokes of hammers, we rebel, resent and always look for short cuts to get over these tribulations. More often than not, we got caught in our own webs, invented excuses which only ended up worsening the mess we created, but our venerable masters came to our rescue, punish us they did, but ensured we learned valuable life lessons. 

Education is not restricted to the three ‘R’s alone, we all are aware, it is the quest for adventure, the curiosity of the seeker, the desire to explore, all these are also highly desirable attributes for a meaningful fulfilling life. Needless to say, our parents are the first and foremost teachers. As we grow older, the realisation dawns on us, as to how they guided us through our formative early years, when we took our first tentative steps knowing fully well that it was their hand which was there to support us when we fell and helped us rise again, to when we uttered the first unintelligible syllables which they deciphered and communicated with us. Later through adolescence, teens and when we embarked on our professional journey they knew exactly the kind of push, nudge or caution was required to get us started. 

The association with the teachers starts with the formal schooling, where some leave a mark for life, although each one contributed to the individual that you turned out to be.  Yes they are doing their job, but it is the passion, the positive attitude, the pleasure of seeing their students succeed in life which I believe drives them to go the extra mile. I am sure all of us have come across them. 

“To Sir with Love” is a classic, which most of us would have read or would have probably watched the movie.  Sydney Poitier the chief protagonist against all odds wins the students over, the song by Lulu still gives me goose pimples. The plot has been adopted umpteen number of times in movies in Hindi also. It was the selfless dedication which finally won the day. Our very own “Taare Zamin Par” is another masterpiece. Maybe I am more affected as I am a teacher’s son and hail from an academic family with only me being the black sheep who chose this profession of arms. As if that was not all my father in law too was a teacher, so is my wife. Well to be fair, all wives are life long teachers, unfortunately their wards, the husbands are renegades beyond repair  without an exception. May be I should change the title to “To Madam with Love”!

Partition

 Partition means different things to different people, an interior designer looks at it from the point of view of creating space, improving the aesthetics.  A carpenter will be looking at pieces of wood with carvings , a mason would be doing the same thing with bricks and mortar, create a wall, which would be more permanent in nature unlike the others' partitions which can be undone rather easily.The geek would imagine the partitioning being referred to as that of the hard disk of his computer.

A partition, by its very meaning signifies a temporary demarcation of space, at times to actually beautify or to create additional space. Indian Living rooms often have a Saharanpur crafted wooden partition, often decorative, separating the Living and Dining spaces in the premises. But alas, there is no "Undo" in real life.

This independence day I was mulling over the saga of partition and the riots  which accompanied it. Have you ever wondered, why is the division of the country referred to as partition? In Hindi it is referred to as "Vibhajan", in Urdu as "Batwara" which mean division, which it actually was, the mass of subcontinent was vivisected, yes it was a living thriving entity which was cut up and not merely the geographical mass. The powers that be decided to take this experiment to its culmination, like an inexperienced butcher, the country was hacked into pieces. Even if it was to be undertaken, there was no surgeon's scalpel, which would have done it with more precision and less pain.  This division obviously was not temporary, the Colonial Masters in their strategic vision wanted to ensure that the subcontinent should forever be in turmoil, in conflict with itself, providing the Powers that be the opportunity to intervene, interfere while their own interests continue to be served.

Well, we not only divided the subcontinent but also our hearts, minds and physical bodies as well. When I was young, I always hoped that like Germany and Vietnam some day we shall overcome this artificial partition and be united not in the Akhand Bharat manner probably, but at least in the minds, we could live as friends if not long lost brothers. I had more faith in the people and expected them to have more sense than continue this nonsense. Obviously I was naive, it has gotten worse. 

So why have Germany and Vietnam succeeded and Korea and India-Pakistan-Bangladesh failed? Is it merely homogeneity of population, obviously not, as Koreans are of the same stock and religion, but they are plagued by the systems of governance and of course there is China, the Gorilla in the room, who would rather have status quo. In our case this division was thrust upon us because  a small section of the population could be influenced without any consideration for the ramifications. Britain was not alone and Asia was not the only continent, even Africa suffered a similar fate at the hands of their colonial masters, be they Germans, Dutch, French, Portuguese or Belgique. They were all alike, the degree of brutality varied, but the aftermath was a continent or subcontinent as in our case,  left licking their wounds.  Arbitrarily  drawn boundaries dividing clans and ethnic communities made the situation worse.

It is the money which makes the mare go, if India continues to grow even at its present rate and become a 10 trillion dollar economy in the coming decade,  will Pakistan realise the futility of the policy of pursuing this undeclared war any further. What if Pakis one day suddenly express their desire to join the Indian confederation sometime in future, what would our reaction be? Will we welcome them back, or just ask them to stay where they are; but try and be friends first? It is difficult to imagine Pak doing this today, but you never know....... there are no "Undo" features in real life! Or May be there are.....