Khaki Drill

 Khaki Drill, KD in short or just KD Shorts, form part of NDA working uniform; incidentally the erstwhile uniform of RSS also comprised Khaki shorts, they have now switched to dark brown trousers in conformity with the times. The Police forces have Khaki uniforms as against the Olive Green for the Army personnel. Khaki was chosen as the preferred colour as each service, Army, Navy, and Air Force have their distinct uniforms, Air Force adorns blue in conformity with the blue sky which is their domain and the Navy is dressed in spotless whites. Four pairs of KD uniforms were issued to the  Cadets on arrival in the campus, but by the time he passes out of the academy he has more than a dozen pairs with him. The uniforms did not multiply on their own nor were required to be stolen but as family heirlooms they were handed down the courses. It was not unusual to find a pair even a decade or more older. Cotton uniforms worn duly starched, had to be discarded after a single session of drill, as we needed a change for the academic sessions which followed, so four pairs just would not have sufficed. The new uniforms were whacked by the seniors, instead the older ones were handed over in lieu. But we were grateful at having received more numbers, it was quantity which mattered not the quality here.

Cotton uniforms were naturally more comfortable, shorts provided natural air conditioning which enabled all the monkey tricks that we  had to indulge in. Some of the antics for the unversed, included apart from sprinting for our lives, to rolling over trying to resemble a huge ball or haunching which would remind the onlookers of gigantic toads with hiccups, or sometimes just trying to be Hercules  by lifting the Hercules cycles over our heads and running around. Then there were times we would be more yogic in our pursuits curtsey our venerable sergeants or corporals, who would help us relax in near shirshasana pose with our legs up, rested on the wall with hands on the floor, some considerate souls who took pity on the hands decided to let the hands rest and let the heads take on the weight in the pose which was euphemistically called "Maharaja" position. Of course there were countless other interesting activities that we were busy with, a complete account will take up many volumes. 

But getting back to the Khaki, it was almost like a ritual that post breakfast the cadets would be lined up in the ground floor lobby where the civilian orderlies would be sitting on their haunches waiting for the cadets. Each cadets would stand in front of the orderly, who would then put his hands through the shorts and pull the shirts down in order to remove any creases in the uniform. For an onlooker, it is quite an intriguing sight as the orderly's hands renew  their acquaintance with the KD shorts everyday without fail. Although the KD Shorts were not the typical sports shorts that you see, these sported flairs like the bell bottom with the width exceeding even the length at times. Initially everyone is a little squirmish in letting a strange pair of hands travelling up the thighs, even if it was meant to just pull the shirt down. The feeling was almost similar to the bathing ritual in the Cadets washrooms, where Cadets discarded their clothes assumed the "digmabar" form for the shower. This seems quite normal, except that there are no shower curtains or partitions, the family jewels are displayed in public except that no one is interested in someone else's as they have their own prized possessions very much in place. 

No wonder ex NDAs are so close to divinity, after all they don't care for their personal belongings, adopt yogic poses , a life dedicated to  for the benefit of the mankind in general!

Horses for Courses

In India wedding processions are invariably led by the groom on a horseback, with the rest of the baraatis (groom's relatives and friends)  following. Some dancing away in gay abandon to the tunes of the band which plays catchy filmy music tunes or sometimes even worse accompanied by a crooner who is generally out of tune and too loud. I often wonder if horses could think and speak for themselves, they would probably be pondering over the specimens whom they have carried on their backs for the marriage ceremony. Interestingly, these horses are tamed to such an extent that they are not disturbed by the sound of crackers bursting, loud music blaring, and baraatis getting dangerously close to their hind legs, which in normal course would have precipitated a reflex where they would have just sent them packing with a royal kick in the rear. Indian baraats  are special and needs a detailed description some other time. Let us stick to the horses for now.

Horses for courses implies the a race horse is not suitable in certain race courses or in other words  we must select the right kind for the job at hand. So we have race horses bred in the best of stud farms with the right pedigree,  then we have the Polo ponies, known for their agility, the Equestrian horses, these are the “haves” in the world of steeds and the “have nots” are the ones employed for menial jobs such as Tongas and Baraats etc. In the tester years we had the Cavalry the mounted arm,  incidentally, President’s Body Guard is the only surviving ceremonial Cavalry in the world today. Horses too have the wild cousins who are untamed and roam the countryside as the masters of their own destiny. Ladakh has the Zaniskari ponies which are found in the wild.  But they are exceptions as horses were domesticated some 6000 years ago. Taming of wild horses would definitely bear similarities with the taming of cadets in the training academies, after all we too were regimented curbing our natural instincts.

In Indian Military Academy, Dehradun, during our Passing Out Parade (POP), the Adjutant is mounted on an elegant charger accompanying the Parade. I still recall in the summer of 1987, in sweltering heat, during one of our practice sessions, the Adjutant, Lt Col Reddy from the Gorkhas, once in his rare benevolent moods, regaled us with this joke, "His horse would often whisper into his ear that he has been performing his duties diligently for over a decade now and he had heard the Adjutant addressing the Gentlemen Cadets(GC) every POP. Every time the Adjutant would say that even an ass who passes through these hallowed portal of Chetwode becomes an officer in the Indian Army. He has been waiting that some day, his turn too will come after all he was a stallion notches above the asses when Adjutant would follow the GCs into the Chetwode and he too would become an Officer. The GCs were in splits and supercharged after this, and resulted in yet another perfect display of immaculate discipline and drill by the would be officers.

While in NDA, equestrian was compulsory and was part of the curriculum. I think most of us novices were very excited at the prospect of getting to ride, after all, we had all seen Bollywood movies where the heroes would come galloping on horses and sweep their heartthrobs of their feet literally. Folklore has it that King Prithviraj Chauhan eloped with his beloved Sanyogita in a similar fashion. The Army, fortunately believes in inculcating the right ethos, and thus the first lesson is on familiarisation with the horses, getting to know them, and learning to feed them. After the ride, a pat on the mane with "Shabaash Ghoda" is also mandatory, even if the colt in question decided to be more of a mule and refused to obey your commands. After a couple of lessons in the Equestrian Lines, where we learned to walk and trot the horse, it was finally time to move out into the open for some galloping. This was the moment we all were waiting for, imagining ourselves as the knights in shining armour in pursuits of our damsels in distress. That fateful day the Riding Instructor was a little peeved with me, and decided to assign Senapati, a  tall broad stallion for the ride. Senapati was notorious for treating the novices with disdain and would throw all kinds of tantrums, buck and then throw the rider off, putting them in their place. While the instructor had asked us to graduate from the trot to a gentle canter and only then gallop, but Senapati had his own mind.I wasn't aware of his reputation, so unsuspecting I took off, sure enough I was just a Johnny come lately and deserved the buck treatment. So first my feet went out of the stirrups, reins still in my hand, then the bucking began and I was off the saddle but not one to give up so easily, I held on to his neck for my dear life. My Bollywood fantasises were coming alive, the hero being chased by the villain and hero ducking to avoid the shower of bullets by adopting all kinds of tricks. The drama continued for a while, I could hear the instructor screaming behind, asking me to control Senapati. Finally I managed get hold of the reins and got him to halt, or may be he was just a little tired and wanted to take a breather, I immediately dismounted successfully meeting the challenge without a scratch. Though I learnt my lessons, and thereafter stayed on the right side of the riding instructors rather than risk being taken for a ride....

Two Hoots

Owl is synonymous with wisdom, as per Hindu mythology, since it is the carrier(vahan) of Goddess Laxmi, it also brings wealth. Two of the most important aspects of life, the other important "Ws" are "women" and "wine" in whichever order you may choose to put them, depending on your sensibilities. But somehow despite such impeccable credentials "Ullu" in Hindi signifies stupid and its progeny the “Pathha”(Son) in Urdu is used commonly to describe imbeciles. That sure is a travesty of justice, brought upon these unsuspecting hooters. 

We the true inheritors of the British legacy adopted Owls as the mascot for Defence Services Staff College in Quetta in pre-partition India, which subsequently settled down in the salubrious environs of Wellington post independence. The mascot was adopted from the British parent Staff College Camberley and was retained, except the motto was changed from its Latin version "Tam Marte Quam Minerva" meaning "To war with wisdom" to "Yudham Pragya" essentially with the same meaning. Contrary to popular perception wars are not all brawn but more of brains, to that extent getting the motto right is a prerequisite, whether we follow it or not, is a different matter. We would like to believe that we have our brains in tact despite the rigorous Drill and Physical Training over the years, "dil bahlane ke liye ghalib khayal achha hai!" (the idea is good merely to keep ourselves amused).  The common refrain remains that a fauji's brains are in his knees, not too far from truth, tongue in cheek! 

Owls are nocturnal birds and quite naturally mankind has not been very comfortable with darkness, as it restricts their perceptions severely, after all, visual connect is the first and probably the most important one in our comprehension and subsequent reactions. Owls and their hoots thus came to be associated with bad omen, many native American tribes associated it with imminent death. Sailors believed it was the foreboding for a shipwreck, even Romans were plagued by this superstition against owls. British author Hilary Rubinstein, however, wrote: "Blessed are the owls, for they shall inherit the mystery and magic of the night." 

The expression, "care two hoots" probably originated in the 19th century America, although the hoots which they referred to were not Owl's but those of ordinary horns. May be, since horns are normally utilised for warning whether they emanate from an automobile, a railway engine or even the good old military horn better known as a bugle. Hooting also got associated with the audience when they did not appreciate an artist on stage thus conveying to him that he better beat a retreat from stage. 

I am not sure whether you care two hoots or not, but this hoot from me is just that a hoot...

LONG LIVE THE REPUBLIC

Republic Day, we Indians are justifiably proud of this momentous day, when we adopted our constitution and finally bid adieu to the British crown forever. As a kid, when there was no TV, we would eagerly wait for the day, go to school very proudly, be part of the flag hoisting and sing the National Anthem with patriotic fervour culminating in the Bharat Mata ki Jai!   I chose the profession of arms rather early and joined the RIMC Dehradun, proudly adorned the Olive Greens for the first time as an eleven year old way back in 1978. The colours of the uniform underwent some changes in the course of last 45 years, turning Khaki for a brief period in NDA for three years, thereafter it was OGs and combats till I landed up in NSG, the Black Cats and am equally proud of the black attire.

  On 26th January the President reviews the parade and a kaleidoscopic display of the unparalleled, unmatched diversity of a vibrant democracy is presented, the proud citizens watch the grand event with justifiable pride. The President's address which was eagerly awaited in the days of yore, without TV is however, just ignored these days. Old timers would recall the mellifluous rich baritone of Melville de Mellow and Jasdev Singh reporting on this important national event. We did not miss the TV, as the live commentary actually brought the detailed account of the Parade in the drawing rooms where the radios were housed and the whole family sat there spellbound, with each individual imagining the splendour of the marching contingents in their own way. One major attraction were the children who were awarded for their conspicuous acts of bravery, who would be perched atop elephants and would also form part of the procession. The most poignant moment was always the posthumous award of Param Veer Chakra or Ashok Chakra to the Next of Kin of the brave sons of India, who had sacrificed their lives in the defence of the country.

  Plato's Republic was authored way back in 375 BC. The word republic in English originated in the early 16th century. Its etymology is traced to Latin rēs pūblica, meaning “public thing,” in other words, the state is run by the people who are elected as against the monarchy which is based on heredity. In India we did have a democratic set up at village level as recorded, however, monarchy was prevalent and hence could not be classified as a republic. Although there were a few instances when the monarchs were also chosen by the people, but thereafter the rulers practised heredity for succession. World had to do with some "banana republics" in the comity of nations, but thankfully unlike our neighbours, ours is a genuine one. So there is an  Islamic republic of Pakistan or a Democratic Republic of Korea, little realising that merely calling themselves republic does not make them one. "Republic" these days has also been usurped by  an electronic media channel. US of course boasts of Republicans as a dominant political party, although in the recent past ex President Trump reduced the republic and the republicans to a rump of democracy, treating the public to burlesque acts. Republic  has "pub" closeted within, may be it is the effect of heavy duty binges indulged in.

  In the military units, the only celebration is the invite to the Junior Commissioned Officers for cocktails to the Officers Mess. The JCOs reciprocate by inviting the officers to the JCOs Mess on 15th August. The tradition can be traced back to the 15th August 1947, when India won its independence the JCOs hosted Indian Army Officers to their Mess, as the Officers Mess also had British Officers as members of the Mess. This was reciprocated by the officers on Republic Day from 26th Jan 1950. Army takes pride in its traditions and lives by them. 

I wonder why is formal flag hoisting  not carried out in the units and formation Headquarters on these important occasions. May be the men in uniform felt that they don't have to carry patriotism on their sleeve, the rest of the citizens get to display it only twice in a year.

Avian Friends

That was the Mahratta woodpecker  Of course there are scores of parrots, mynahs,  peacocks and babblers  but alas no sparrows. As a sparrow myself (Signal Officers are called Sparrows in military parlance!), this obviously is painful. We were back in Delhi, Covid times...sky was clear, less vehicles less pollution and Cantt area retained its greenery bearing the onerous responsibility of being the lungs of the capital. During my morning walks when I heard the Mahratta woodpecker's call, I was pleasantly surprised,  didn't  expect this colourful avian to be found in Delhi of all places. After all it is not such a common bird, but the call was unmistakable, a long screeching tetetete..... Sure enough I found it having a go at the Neem tree. 

This is the Tree pie, 

Birds have always fascinated me, and I am sure everyone, after all the flight of the birds probably gives wings to our imagination. Moreover they are so colourful with such melodious voice that every child is automatically enamoured by them, wanting to touch them, hold them, caress them. Later in life, the urge remains but the preference shifts to the unfeathered variety.  Ornithology is the science of bird watching, no it is not for ogling, but actually observing their habitat, breeding, migration etc. While in RIMC, we were introduced to this hobby, I volunteered to join, but was disappointed that most of the study was undertaken with the Britannica Encyclopaedia only with no outdoor trips. Even at NDA, the Nature Study and Wild life club was there, but it was the sole preserve of the "well connected", as it entitled you to skipping the cross country runs on Sunday mornings, with the study being restricted to the Gole Market or a casual trek around the hills with no serious attempts at studying nature. You could argue, we were as it is very close to Mother Nature  going around periphery or Sinhagarh. Other than attending to the Nature's call, we did not have the time or inclination to admire or seek solace in the otherwise pristine surroundings of Khadakwasla. It was only later when we visited NDA, that the realisation dawned on us, NDA is really ideally located at the foothills of Sahyadri Hills and sort of descending into Khadakwasla Lake itself, with thick vegetation in the periphery region. The hillocks of Karpa, Rale-Rassi, Point 2475 provide it the much needed  contours and curves to the landscape. But frankly while we were running all over these hills, nature was the last thing on our minds!

'Birds and the bees' are commonly cited for explaining reproduction in the animals, wonder why not butterflies, as bees are not attractive and in fact their stings are rather painful. On the contrary, butterflies are pretty and do the same thing, cross pollination, no honey though. Have you ever observed how keenly a child watches a butterfly and how excited s(he) gets on watching it take wings. I am sure we all have got hold of caterpillars and then seen them evolve into pupas and finally grow those wings to break the shackles and fly out. It is the nature's education at its best.

Anyway to return to the avifauna, the only name which comes to mind is Dr Salim Ali, his phenomenal research and love affair with these feathered creatures resulted in the most exhaustive treatise on birds in the subcontinent. While in Udhampur, I was lucky to spot the Paradise Flycatcher, a rare siting indeed and it is such a beautiful bird with a tail almost like a kite, no not the bird but kite as in flying paper objects, with a tail soaring in the sky.

Its diminutive  size notwithstanding, its flight with its tail following in the wake as if in waves was a treat to the eyes. We are indeed blessed, if we can spot some of these beautiful creatures and then actually feast our eyes on them.  Incidentally my father in law, Dr Bharat Poorey is an avid bird watcher himself, may be once I re-attire I will get to spend more time chasing these birds ......

Winter Blues

 When winter comes, can woollens be far behind? In the last about 35 years plus we have crisscrossed the length and breadth of the country, courtesy the Army. From Leh in Ladakh to Wellington in the South, from deserts of Rajasthan to Chakabama Nagaland in the North East, braving extreme weather conditions, scorching heat to biting cold and torrential rains, salubrious environs to pollution capital, all part of the game for all soldiers. In the bargain, we had to collect and accumulate clothing and woollens to match the seasons. Normally a person residing in Bengaluru or Mumbai would not need any warm clothes, or a person in Kashmir would not need summer wear, but since we are not sure as to where we are headed next, we hold on to all types without any prejudices or bias. 

So as Diwali festivities are over and winter quietly starts to creep in, the lady of the house gets busy, digging into the trunks to pull out the woollens which were banished there sometime in end Feb early Mar, making way for the summer wear in the limited wardrobe space which the MES/CPWD provide. The complexity of the challenge grows manifold due to the ceremonial attires of uniformed personnel. Our trunks, each one of them has umpteen number of stories buried in them along with the clothes. Blazers, Lounge Suits, Tweeds and jackets of all hues and types, be it leather or woollen which receive a royal treatment and are sent to the laundry for dry cleaning to rid them of the smell of naphthalene balls (for the unversed these are used for mothballing). The country cousins i.e. pullovers, scarves, cravats, mufflers, caps, hats are not so lucky and have to make do with just good old sunshine and some much needed airing. In addition there are thermal inner wear who though like to remain incognito but serve the most important purpose of keeping us warm and protected.

The challenge now is how to accommodate all these into the same wardrobes which were quite content with the much smaller inventory of T shirts and shorts galore. The winter clothes are left sulking for almost nine or ten months in a year, as they are sent to the dungeons, not because of any fault on their side but because despite being the costliest and most exclusive part of the wardrobe they simply can't overstay their welcome. Just like the years gone by, they had probably expected to be rescued by the time it was December, but this year winters have been late setting in, blame it on the climate change. Then it makes a grand entry by the year end and threatening to shatter the records by plummeting  the mercury to the dreaded zero or just about there, leaving in its trail a shivering North India. Surprisingly even good old smog also did not come to our rescue this year which chose not descend to our levels and stayed in the upper reaches. 

There was a time when I would have preferred cold weather to summers any day, simply because you could add layers of clothing to provide insulation and keep yourself warm, in contrast you could only strip to the bare essentials which did not prove effective. The peegate accused could have got away if he was traveling in a general compartment in Train on a chilly evening, as with the layers of clothes he could have blamed it on the inability to be able to extricate the willy which would have been buried under all the innerwear.

  The times have changed with little hair left on my balding pate and old bones creaking, summers are preferable; a headgear is a prerequisite even indoors now. In fact I have a collection of caps and hats of all kinds now; in the Army as it is, we collect all kinds of caps some presented on the golf courses, some picked up as memorabilia from the academies and institutions (no not mental ones, supposedly cerebral ones, although there isn't much to choose between the two!) and some as  tourists, last count I think I had more than 50 of them. My better half is at her wit's end how and where to keep them... I have my plans for my permanent dwelling where each of them will find a pride of place. But as of now most of them have to rest content in the trunks with only a few of them allowed within the premises.

While the struggle with the wardrobes is playing on Rahul Gandhi seems to have shown us a path towards salvation with his half sleeves T shirt appearance in this peak winters. I am eagerly awaiting some bytes on this closely guarded secret and I am sure so would many others. But I think out of consideration for the  wooly woollens he has not let the cat out of the bag, after all woollens industry would go bankrupt and he would not like to harm their interests. We, the lesser mortals will carry on withstanding the rigours of weather with woollens!

Deadly Daggers

 

Deadly Daggers

 

A posting to Wellington as a Directing Staff post your command is greeted with mixed reactions by most of the Colonels in Indian Army. Yes, the first feeling is euphoric, that professionally you have probably made a mark and this is just its recognition. But soon the day-to-day mundane issues overpower this feeling and one has to start staring at some of the facts, primary among them is a separation in the offing due to the kids’ education and of course the distance from the heartland so to say. The environment also conveys a similar approach; some of the colleagues go green with envy, while others bring out the practical difficulties associated with such a move.

Mine was also a similar predicament, in fact, when the command was nearing an end, I had sought out the Mysterious Branch (Military Secretary branch, responsible for what is euphemistically referred to as Human Resource Management, in simple language they manage our postings and promotions) and asked them if they had any issues with my application for study leave, fearing that I would probably be told to lay off. But surprise of surprises, I was told to go right ahead, and so I decided that it was about time I hone my technical prowess and opted for pursuing postgraduation in Engineering. The added attraction of course was that my son was at a crucial juncture in his academic pursuits, the proverbial class XII and I felt I could help him stay focussed on task at hand. We have all been through this age when the hormones start to make their presence felt and an adolescent lad can be more than a handful for the mother to handle all by herself, with you providing just the moral and material support long distance.

  I was already imagining myself as a student and for the first time in my life in a real college (!!) so to say. National Defence Academy, Military College of Telecommunication Engineering and Defence Services Staff College don’t really qualify as colleges as they are premier military institutions and are more military than academic. Looking forward to interacting with youngsters in the college canteens, GTs (the mass bunking), yes it seemed rather exciting. I had even started to colour my hair to keep that youthful appearance. But all that was short-lived and then came this bolt from the blue, the Mysterious Branch unveiled another one of their famous mysteries and sent me packing to the salubrious environs of Wellington. As luck would have it, my reliever, Col ( now a two star) KV Kumar, a fellow Rimcollian was coming in for his second command himself, having earned the coveted Dagger here. Another one of those mysteries of MS Branch to send him for another command assignment having done his time in hell in his previous avatar as the CO.

Daggers can be earned, or you are born into it, Delta Squadron NDA guys are born into it, not by merit, just by birth like in our Caste system. Then there are those who earn it the hard way like the Commando Daggers who are awarded this coveted title after a gruelling commando course in which they come out trumps, leading the pack. The last but not the least by any means are that breed who were sent back to Wellington as Instructors since they did not do full justice the first time, they landed up here.

Be that as it may, we all have very fond memories of this institution, so grudgingly one accepted the Wellington has, to use the cliché, “the old-world charm” and far from the madding crowd, it is an idyllic haven for a recluse like me. Having landed up here, the pristine beauty and nature at its magnanimous best naturally made me thank the Almighty for having got me here yet again. Once again the Mungerilal (the one who indulged in the favourite pastime of many a students here, day-dreaming)in me took off on flights of fancy, golf, nature walks, bird watching (I mean the feathered ones!!) and lot of time for creative pursuits. But alas, I was yet to be blooded and as the ignoramus that I am, wondered what was all this whining for something as innocuous as corrections, something which we undertook on a routine basis in the units, correcting drafts! The old timers just smiled very indulgently, amused at this banter by the first termer.

 The first interactions with the student officers were naturally very interesting and despite the hours spent on the table, it did appear to be good. We managed to steal some golfing moments also once in a while, renewed my acquaintance with Squash court (my old pal) and of course the course-mates only provided that icing on the cake. It seemed too good to be true and so it was, the first set of corrections soon made their way to our tables. Having perused the sample corrections by now, the mammoth proportions were now quite evident to the rookies like me also. For unversed, the Directing Staff here write more than the students themselves, so for every line of theirs a paragraph worth is added in terms of corrections and value addition. But putting on a brave front, we set upon this in a warlike manner, the first one was overcome with no bruises, neither the ego nor the intellect, all safe in their respective havens. But soon it was time for some thinking with “Soch Vichar”(name of an Exercise), and I realised as to why was it named “Kaise Karoon” when we did the course, it was more apt naturally. About 225 pages (nine files multiplied by an average of 25 pages submission each! for the uninitiated!)took their toll on our limbs and I was left wondering as to why didn’t Almighty make us all ambidextrous, if not all at least the Directing Staff at DSSC at least should be blessed with this boon. A new ailment was soon reported which left the medical fraternity all puzzled, “Correction Elbow”, yes just like its more common cousin Tennis elbow it afflicts the person whose elbow has been over-exercised. The followers of Hippocrates have thrown up their hands in despair, now we are on the lookout for alternate medicines, as the corrections stream doesn’t appear to be drying anytime too soon, what with spate of exercises Chinthe, Parvat Raksha already piled up and Laxman Rekha to follow soon.