Ladakh: Paradise Threatened

 Ladakh the picturesque idyllic high-altitude desert, which has been an enigma for Indians as also for the rest of the world, has been in the news in the recent past for an unheard of unrest. The turmoil can be traced back to the abrogation of Article 370 in 2019 and creation of a separate Union Territory (UT) of Ladakh. One would have presumed that, Ladakhis would be happy with this turn of events, where their voice would be heard much closer at Leh rather than at Srinagar under the erstwhile state of Jammu & Kashmir. But it appears that the populace is not really enamoured by just getting themselves a UT, and want to go the whole hog, demanding a separate state itself. Before we go on to the merits and demerits of this demand, we need to understand the trigger for the latest round of protest.

Sonam Wangchuk, has been spearheading the demands for greater autonomy citing ecological threats under sixth schedule of the constitution for quite some time. This included his march to New Delhi last year at the same time and the present round of hunger strike which culminated on last Tuesday. Fresh talks with the Centre were scheduled for 6th Oct, hence this violence which appeared premeditated, is quite inexplicable. A region which is primarily Buddhist, where His Holiness the Dalai Lama resides and frequents quite often, its people, so gentle that they would love to spend their time with the prayer wheel and beads humming Om Mane Padme Hum, a Buddhist mantra representing ‘dharma’ and the ‘union of compassion and wisdom’ resorting to any kind of violence defies logic. Having spent two years in this wilderness and having traversed the length and breadth from Turtuk to Daulat Beg Oldie, Base Camp Sia Chen to Tso-Moriri lake and Pang on the Leh Manali route, having interacted with the locals, both soldiers of the brave & courageous Ladakh Scouts and the civilians, one can vouch for their simple frugal lifestyle, trusting nature and  their trademark salutation of “Jule” with the ever-present effervescent smile.  

Obviously, there are vested interests who would like to open a new front to keep India embroiled, more so in the region which is close to the Line of Actual Control. Ironically, even at the peak of militancy in Jammu & Kashmir, Kargil, a predominantly Muslim region remained peaceful and now when Kashmir is gradually limping back to normalcy, Ladakh is witnessing these violent protests. The supposed spontaneous Gen Z protests even in other parts of the world were not innocuous innocent ones, the dangerous trends have been visible and their outcomes are hardly democratic or peaceful. We consider Mr Sonam Wangchuk to be an intelligent man and he has been professing peace all along, then his exhortations on Gen Z for protests can’t be accepted at its face value. His organisation, Students’ Educational and Cultural Movement of Ladakh (SECMOL) has done some pioneering grassroot level work is undeniable. But in the same vein, when he embarks on this path, where he starts questioning the infrastructure development along the disputed LAC with China, doubts are bound to be raised. This round of unprecedented development in the region is a driver for the local economy as well, as he would recall the days when Ladakh was a Shangri La, “a useless uninhabited land, where a not a blade of grass grew”, as quipped by our first Prime Minister himself. Today’s Ladakh is a paradise for the tourists, peaking in the summer season, when it is near impossible to get even accommodation forget about a vehicle. Over the years there is some semblance of agriculture too over here, with apples and Khubani in Kargil, sea buckthorn, the wild berries and even some vegetables are grown during the season. Typically wherever there is Army, the region invariably is benefitted in terms of greenery, which is visible in the treelines visible when we are descending at the Leh airport.

I am sure the govt will be proactive and nip the nascent unrest in the bud, Ecological Territorial Army on the lines of Eco TA forces which have done a yeomen service in the Shivalik and Aravali ranges may be raised for Ladakh to address the concerns regarding environmental hazards. A representative council for the UT may also be consented to. It is important for the Gen Z and the protesters to draw lessons from the happenings in the subcontinent and not play into the hands of unscrupulous elements who are neither their well-wishers, nor of the nation.

Desi Top Guns

Back in NDA days, where inter-services bonhomie was being engendered in the crucible of India’s premier military training institution, we the ‘pongos’ generally teased the flyboys as theirs was “All air and no force!”. We were envious naturally, which 16 years old lad would not want to aspire to be a fighter pilot. Although Top Gun was yet to be unleashed on us by Hollywood, but flying did not need any endorsement by Tom Cruise, as it was supposed to be the ultimate urge of the homo sapiens, to take to the skies like birds and that too at those faster than sound machines, which looked oh so sexy. We the men in OGs had to be content with our SLR, the personal weapon, a Self-Loading Rifle 7.62 mm and our two dear feet to carry us everywhere. Then, why did I choose to remain on ground, rather than adorn the flying overalls and, as the motto goes for the Indian AirForce, Nabhah Sparsham Deeptam, excerpted from the Bhagwad-Gita, meaning “Touch the sky with Glory”.

We were the hardcore dyed in the wool Olive Greens, having been in awe of  Rimcollian Generals Thimayya, Bewoor, Bhagat, Candeth, two Chiefs and the other two Army Commanders, so we chose to remain grounded. By the time we passed out of the Academy, Tom Cruise as Maverick in his overalls, Aviator shades had literally captured the hearts of all the damsels, sending the stock of flyboys sky high.   Anyway, Air Force, did not need to prove anyone wrong by getting into any debates, their actions spoke for themselves. A professional service, with its meagre and austere resources has always come up trumps, trouncing the technologically superior aircrafts of our Western adversary, like the Sabre vs Gnats or F 16s vs MiG-21s.It was obvious that the man behind the machine, made all the difference.

The Indian Air Force has played a stellar role not only in the defence of India but even in in its fledgling avatar as the Royal Indian Air Force during the Second World War. Baba Mehar Singh’s landing in Leh is the stuff of legends, so were the landings in Sri Nagar on 27th Oct 1948, when 12 Sqn became the saviour of the Valley by landing the 1 SIKH battalion led by Col Ranjit Rai, setting the stage for jointness in its true spirit. 1965 and 1971 saw the Indian Air Force come into its own by literally ruling the skies above, especially the Eastern Sector, where they established total air supremacy and it was the Tangail Paradrop on the 11th and their bombing the Governor’s House on 14th, which led to the final surrender by panic-stricken General Niazi and his 93000 troops. During Kargil, they bombed the Muntho-Dhalo Logistics Base, thereby aiding the onslaught by the ground forces and hastening the ultimate withdrawal by the infiltrators. During peacetime, their logistic support has been the lifeline of troops deployed in the high-altitude regions in Sia-Chen, Kargil as also in the winter cut off posts in Kashmir Valley and the North East.  They ensure that troops stationed in these areas are kept warm by providing k-oil, are fed, by ferrying rations and then the most important part of casualty evacuation is undertaken by the helicopter pilots even in treacherous weather and climatic conditions.

Sekhon, Keelor brothers, Ahuja, Abhinandan and their ilk have proven that when it comes to valour and sacrifices, they stand shoulder to shoulder with their sister services. Flyboys are always itching to take a go, and have provided the Indian Armed Forces, the strategic edge, which they have demonstrated amply by the Balakot strikes and the recent drubbing and decimation drive during OP SINDOOR. Not satisfied with conquering the skies, they have ventured into outer space as well, with Rakesh Sharma and the latest to join the bandwagon Shubhanshu Shukla, with many more to follow in their illustrious steps. Our pilots have proved they are second to none during exercises with friendly foreign countries and have proved to be the Top Guns in real life. On the occasion of the 93rd Air Force Raising Day, I salute their pride and professionalism, may they continue to set the skies ablaze with glory always. 

Gaza:Elusive Peace

 Gaza, well the accord is signed by the warring parties, ceasefire brokered by Trump and the swap of prisoners and hostages have finally taken place. The world has heaved a huge sigh of relief, the madness which was unleashed on 7th Oct 2023 when Hamas launched a surprise assault killing 1195 personnel and 251 were taken as hostages. The brutal barbarism with which the civilians were killed and the treatment of the hostages was abhorrent and it was obvious that a tough reprisal from the Israelis would follow. But even in their wildest dreams the Hamas leadership and its backers had not imagined the ferocity and the prolonged duration of this conflict. The stated aim of Israel of total decimation of Hamas has still not been achieved despite a relentless offensive by the IDF for the last two years, but they have nevertheless inflicted almost crippling damage to the leadership not just of Hamas but also of Hezbollah and Houthis. In the bargain, as collateral damage the civilians in Gaza were subjected to unprecedented hardships, sometimes even food and medicines not making it through to the needy. Cleaning up Gaza for providing security to the Israelis had the tacit sanction of the US during Biden regime and was openly supported by Trump. How long will this truce last, is anybody’s guess. 

Israel was blamed for human rights violations and committing genocide  in Gaza, reminds me of the SriLankan Army action against LTTE, where too a similar kind of offensive was launched in 2008-09 after almost three decades of civil war like conditions in the Tamil dominated Northern and Eastern regions. Sri Lanka has steadfastly refused to allow any kind of international investigations of the alleged atrocities inflicted on the civilian casualties. Thankfully, the scourge of LTTE has been totally eliminated after the death of their supremo, Prabhakaran. I am not so sure about Hamas though, as although the top leadership has been delivered a knock out punch but there are remnants who may mushroom again. The other dissimilarity is that while LTTE was a terrorist organisation, but it did not flaunt any religious identity and demanded a separate Tamil Eelam, it was more ethnic and regional, whereas Hamas or Hezbollah or Houthis all are Islamic  and their stated objective is total annihilation of Israel.

So are we comparing apples and oranges, actually no, the fact remains that any such conflict, is by nature extremely violent and civilians perforce have to  suffer collateral damages. India by contrast, has not only displayed extreme caution in all such situations and despite grave provocations have demonstrated phenomenal restraint, so much so that we were labelled a soft state. India has had its share of insurgencies and terrorist attacks and still continue to be at the receiving end in Kashmir, relatively less in the NorthEast and even Naxalism in some parts. Patience has paid and also the winning hearts and minds strategy, through which we have harvested rich dividends. The similarity between situations in Israel and India is that both are plagued by cross border terrorism, which is religious in nature. Pakistan too has been practising the ‘death by thousand cuts’ strategy like the inimical neighbours of Israel who want to drive all the jews into the Dead Sea. While insurgency needs to be handled with care, as it is own population which is disaffected and some of their grievances may be genuine, but terror has to responded to in a tough, no nonsense manner, as has been done in the last decade or so. Of course, none of these guarantees absolute peace for all times to come, just that you may buy some time, till the lessons are forgotten for a fresh misadventure by the adversary.

However there are lessons, which we need to draw from the Israel-Hamas conflict, first and foremost is that never let your guard down, the 7th Oct terror attack was a result of gross intelligence failure. We have to be extra alert in view of the adversaries in the neighbourhood and the presence of a large number of fifth columnists within our boundaries. Secondly, treating the symptoms doesn’t work, the root cause has to be tackled, as seen in OP SINDOOR. They must realise that the costs of any such misdemeanour  are prohibitive and hence they better mend their ways. Alternately, as Godfather would say, “Make them an offer they can’t refuse!” 

A Cabin Affair

 Back in the NDA, jointness was evident in every small little detail, for example if the Commandant was from Army, the Deputy Commandant was from the Air Force, similarly for a Naval Commandant, his Deputy  would be from the Army. Similarly the Squadron Commanders, Battalion Commanders and Division Commanders were shared pro rata, for every two Army officers as Squadron Commanders, there would be one each of Air Force and Navy in the Battalion. The hierarchy too was similar, a battalion (Army) was divided into four squadrons (Air Force) and our rooms were designated as cabins (Navy). These cabins were our homes away from homes for those three years, they were our refuge from all the ordeal that we were put through in those formative years.

The image which your gullible mind conjures is of a cabin that is a romantic log cabin deep in the woods, the NDA cabin is a total contrast. Let me first describe the cabin for those unlucky souls who did not get an opportunity to pass out under the Quarter Deck. The cabin was furnished frugally with a bed and mattress, a study table, a drawer for clothes, a window with blinds, a shelf on the wall where our Field Service Marching Order was packed and kept ready, underneath the shelf was a kit bag with a cardboard in it to give it a shape, duly covered by a clean white handkerchief. The gap between the door and the ceiling was covered by a wired mesh. Now that I have described the cabin in some detail, permit me to paint a typical scenario of any day back in 1983 in our case, I bet it was similar in 1953 and also in 2023. So at three in the morning there is a knock on the door, when we were just about catching our forty winks having been knocked out cold well past the lights out at around midnight. The third termer from the flank where my cabin was located, was at the door, groggily I wake up and put on my dressing gown, lest I be given a dressing down for not following the protocol for the dress, I was hauled straight into the common wash room on the floor, where my other buddies were already huddled up, we knew exactly what was in the offing, so we got about our task in a business like fashion, rolling from one end to the other with the overhead taps in full flow, ensuring that our skins were kept hydrated. After this round of bathroom session, as it was known during our times, we were back just in time for the bathroom clearance and get dressed for the morning muster. 

When we return, the cabin lock stares at us with sympathy, and quietly without even creaking just gives way so that we could find some solace in our abode. The bed welcomes us with open arms, but unfortunately we had to spurn this offer, the smokers of the course, light their cigarette quickly to give their lungs their daily/hourly fix of nicotine. We quickly rush to the Tea room flanks with ours and a couple of additional mugs of the seniors to fetch the “hot and ready” tea. Tea was never relished in small cups but in tumblers, as it barely contained any content of tea, it was just sweet ‘tea coloured’ hot water, which was guzzled in litres by the cadets ensuring their tryst with the throne was effective and eventful. 

Back to the cabin, which is aware that we are in tearing hurry to get dressed, where the KD (Khaki Drill) Shorts and Shirts are ready to quickly to adorn you, the shoes, with their 32 nails and the horse-shoe in tact along with stockings and garter flashes are the accompaniments with go with attire. The belt too is eager to get onto your waist, lest it be wasted and lo and behold, we are ready in a jiffy. The FSMO perched atop the shelf is mournful, the dungarees are envious, so are the riding hat, britches and boots, as their turn comes just once in a week. Somewhere the swimming trunk is hiding underneath the heap of inner wear, socks white and black generally find refuge in the kitbag, as it is only weekends when one can hope to treat them to some detergent.

Now the satchel beckons, it is already overflowing with the PT rig thrown in, the notebook lying underneath cursing the sweaty T shirt and smelly socks. It is time to make our appearance for the Pre-Muster where the Corporal just peeps outside and barks ‘get lost’. In the parade ground with our cycles by our side, who almost snuggle close, they are aware that, their intimacy is short lived, as the senior whose bike on the neighbouring stand is flat, is going to ride away leaving the poor sod with his flat bike to lug around. “O God help us to keep ourselves physically strong, mentally awake and morally straight…” Time for the NDA Cadets’ prayer and off we go, the cabin windows bid us adieu tearfully, the blinds in half mast, waiting longingly for the post lunch brief interlude, when we would be reunited.

In Pursuit of Hedonism

 In the ‘love affair’ series, this one is about my affair with the most unlikely of places, guess what, ‘hospitals’! The exclamation mark I understand is  actually an under-reaction by the reader. Who in his right frame of mind, would fall in love with hospitals of all places? No I am not married to a medico, as medical colleges were prime targets for young bachelors wooing the doctor damsels. But then mine is an affair of a lifetime, having had my brushes over the last near six decades that I have been around. My previous escapades can be perused on Carry on Doctors https://thesuyashsharma.com/carry-on-doctors/

I am sure we all recall the “Lymphosarcoma of the Intestine” from Bollywood movie Rajesh Khanna, Amitabh Bachchan starrer “Anand”, so the disease must at least sound impressive, so how is Gastro Oesophagus Reflux Disorder (GERD), Hiatus Hernia with Barrett’s as a diagnosis ? I had been diagnosed with this GERD almost fifteen years ago, an ensuing endoscopy revealed that there were Barrett’s as well but the symptoms could be managed with lifestyle changes. In simpler terms, it was essentially hyper acidity with reflux, which most of us complain about off and on and treat it with Eno or Digene or sometimes both, the more aware lot resort to a tablet of Ranitidine or Pantaprazole. In my case, I kept a ready stock with me but despite the lifestyle changes it gradually deteriorated and multiple barrett’s resulted. 

Lifestyle changes were not too much of an ask, except that I had turned a strict vegetarian from the occasional maukatarian,(a typical fauji term for occasional non-veg eater for an otherwise vegetarian) and my social drinking too had to be shunned in favour of mock-tails, which are generally the preserve of the ladies. So I bid farewell to not just these pleasures and vices that we indulge in but also my circle of friends who naturally were appalled at my having turned a total Sufi. Mind you a veg teetotaller is quite a pain as a guest, as the hostess has to perforce cater for some paneer dishes which are otherwise anathema to the rest of the crowd. Abstinence from drinks implies that one remains in senses, where as the whole aim of the party is to get sozzled and talk utter nonsense, in other words have fun.  Well, if that was not enough, I had started  observing the tenets of Jainism rather strictly, not abstaining from onion and garlic, but adhering to the evening meal times. In the evening, we have the sun down sleeves down rule as an anti malaria measure to prevent rank and file from being bitten by mosquitoes. During the Burma campaign in Second World War, malaria killed more troops than the Japanese. Anyway without digressing into matters military and Japs, let us  get back to the non-violent Jains, who dutifully partake their evening meals when the fauji hasn’t even commenced his routine sundowners. Apparently, in the bygone era, when the world was without electricity, a meal in darkness or in dimly lit with kerosene or earthen lamps was prone to small insects falling into the gravies and inadvertently becoming a part of the meal, thus making the practitioners of Jainism a sinner having killed and consumed a harmless animate. 

In my case it had nothing to do with my vegetarianism, but the sheer fact that I needed that extra two-three hours for the meal to get digested before hitting the bed, lest, the food decides to cause a reflux by heading in the opposite direction from where it was intended to be despatched. In other words, you are up and about at midnight with your mouth and the throat at the receiving end of Hydrochloric acid mixed with the undigested food particles, not a very pleasant taste by any standards. This occurrence at regular intervals, causes these barrett’s oesophagus, which is supposed to be pre-malignant. Emperor of maladies is scary to say the least and naturally one immediately rushes to the medicos to ascertain the truth, at least the wise ones (like me!!) do that and not rely just on google and social media. Well I am told without mincing any words, that I have been foolishly carrying on with this malaise, whereas it should have been treated laparoscopically at least a decade ago rather than let it grow to this size. 

Well, that can’t be undone, so get under the scalpel pronto and put this hernia eight centimetres under the diaphragm, where it had protruded into the oesophagus and God created ‘Non-return Valve’, the ‘sphincter’ which is entrusted with the task of ensuring food travels just one way, down, starts malfunctioning and we end up suffering. The damn things one day just decided to up the ante and bled, sending me scurrying to the doctors in the family my sis and my daughter, who admonished me for my negligence and asked me to undergo an endoscopy right away.

Left with little choice, I followed their instructions meekly, just surrendered to their diktats and landed up in Delhi for the  surgery. BLK-MAX Super Speciality Hospital in Karol Bagh was homed onto as Dr Deep Goyal had treated my younger brother’s rather complicated case of a burst gall bladder very deftly two years ago. I must say, our trust was well placed as his team of doctors was highly professional and I was out in precisely about 36 hours from the time of admission having successfully sorted the dam hernia out for good having pushed it down, where it belonged and tied a mesh around it to prevent a recurrence. The benefits, apart from returning to the good old tamasic or hedonistic  way of life from the forced satvik one (two of the three gunas (qualities) in Hinduism), getting rid of the tyranny of the double pillows, which ended up giving me a stiff neck each morning and welcome amongst the friends once again as a normal human being.

PS – My apologies to my friends and coursemates as I have kept this under wraps till now, as I did not want BLK hospital to be invaded by my well-wishers, attired with their medals and regalia sending them scampering rather than attending to the patients. Now I am back home, mandated by the doctor to follow a strict regimen of diet for the next about six months, then it is obviously party time folks!!

The Real Boss

 Last 25th Oct, we lost one of my favourite actors of Indian Cinema, Satish Shah, who over the last about four decades has kept us in splits through his sheer genius  of comic timing and wit. Most of us, who were introduced to the new medium of entertainment in the eighties, the television, were amused and amazed at his vast repertoire of acts that he put on for the  52 episodes of the sitcom, “Yeh Jo Hai Zindagi” (YJHZ). He appeared in a new avatar in each one, one better than the other and carried them through with aplomb. That was just for the starters, by the way, in later years, there were many movies, including the cult classic, “Jane Bhi Do Yaron” the satirical masterpiece, where he excelled. The serial spitter of “Main Hoon Na”, who slobbered Shahrukh in scene after scene,  but it was in “Sarabhai Vs Sarabhai”, as Indravardhan, he was simply unmatched.

Well, much as I would have loved to write his eulogy, but I don’t think I can probably do justice, while recovering in the hospital, I was again reminded of that one episode of  YJHZ,  where, he walks into any home and rushes straight to the rest room and returns exclaiming, “What a relief!”, I had alluded to this in one of my earlier blogs also, https://thesuyashsharma.com/what-a-relief/. After the surgery, the most important part is the resumption of the normal body functions, especially the excretory system. So here I was, having been operated upon, after a very different kind of operation than what we in the Army are used to, where we hold something akin to the scalpel, but more deadly. I was under the spell cast by the anaesthesiologist, still recovering, when the bladder started to declare that it was time for a relief. Try as I did, went and sat down on the throne, expecting it to provide some relief, but to no avail. I was in discomfort and the hospital staff helpfully asked me to keep water running, which may help. But the efforts were not fruitful or should I say juiceful (pun intended), the suggestion to use an icepack on the bladder, with my niece playfully  making those sssssshhhhh… sounds which we normally hear the mothers do to help their kids . But finally it was the threat of the catheter being inserted you know where, which finally got  it going.

The battle was far from over, as the stomach had started to bloat now, and with the upward movement of gases restricted due to the surgery, the only escape was in the downward direction. Flatulence is normally something which is shunned in public out of courtesy, but here, one doesn’t have a choice and one is forced to move around hoping that some trickles would finally find an exit route out to provide the much needed relief. Once again, the threat of an enema finally gets the body to respond. The threat in being, almost always works stands proven. I am reminded of this T poster which we all have seen in our younger days

KAR-BEKAR

  

My Wagon R was purchased in Feb 2006, I had assumed command of the unit, having sold my previous Maruti 800 couple of years ago, while moving to Leh-Ladakh on a field posting which was followed by my deployment in United Nations for a Peacekeeping assignment. Now back in the civilisation a convertible being a basic necessity, a small hatchback was chosen as it could be driven comfortably by my wife as well. The car  has served us well over the years, with initially my better half driving it around for her school, institute,  NGOs, shopping etc. Then my daughter drove it around to the hospital as a young medico, until this 15 year rule kicked in. We did some memorable family trips to Badrinath, Kedarnath from Patiala, to Simla, Kasauli or finally Delhi to Indore when Delhi

cops refused to let us drive it despite the renewal of registration. So much so that both my kids wanted to be driven in the Wagon R after their marriage with their respective spouses. Bruised and battered but still fighting fit,It is practically  a family heirloom now.

Some years ago, a new policy was unveiled whereby, vehicles 15 years or older needed a renewal of registration for another five years and thereafter they were to be simply retired with no benefits. The policy was conceived apparently to keep the rising levels of pollution under check and in the bargain, give a boost to the automobile sector of the economy, as the vehicles scrapped will obviously be replaced. It was supposed to be a win-win for the govt and also for the environment, except that the consumers were suddenly faced with a major challenge in creating the financial resource for purchase of a new vehicle. 

Be that as it may, it is the cars who are up in arms now, as having served their masters/mistresses well, this step-motherly treatment whereby they were suddenly rendered ‘be-kaar’ and their ‘car-acass’ were to be consigned to the scrapyard. No voluntary retirement benefits or gratuity, enhanced disability payout etc were payable, although they have had their share of accidents and brushes with the traffic authorities.  Ladies do not normally take kindly to the seat belts, the reasons are obvious, their carefully chosen attire starts appearing ‘tired’ when they alight after their gruelling drive through the streets encountering all kinds of human and inanimate obstacles thrown in their way. The traffic inspectors are at the receiving end, whenever the lady was checked for this violation, and more often than not, the married ones realise the futility of the argument which would ensue, and just let them off with a perfunctory warning. Anyway, I am digressing, we can discuss the driving skills of the dames some other time.

So cars have represented that they be permitted ‘kar-seva’ as they can still contribute to the society rather than forcing them to become modern day Sage Dadhichi (who gave up his life, so that his bones could be used for making Vajra the deadliest weapon for the ‘Devtaas’), after all their self sacrifice does boost our economy. While we are discussing mythological aspects, the Sagun ‘Sa-kar’  car owners are not keen to take on the mantle of ‘Nira-kar’ (without car). No doubt the formless existence (nirakar) proponents are more evolved, but then as mere Earthlings we would prefer to be ‘Sa-kar’ (personified God).

As an advisor (salah-kar) all that I would like to suggest to the govt is this ‘Car-obar’ (business) needs a review where fitness of the vehicle should be the factor and not its age which should determine whether it should continue to serve their masters/mistresses or like the humble faujis who get to serve only 15 years and then are forgotten, these too shall be left for the itihaskar (historians) to dig out  decades later.