'The Battle' through a Soldier's eyes - 1

 It was mid of April 1999. Advanced India was still celebrating the listing of Infosys as the first Indian company in NASDAQ.. Kosovo war was in full form...The current Maharaja of Jaipur was not yet born....and the BJP led 13 months old NDA government had fallen after losing a confidence motion by one vote in the parliament...

Akhil was on a routine shift in his section of a front-line Air Force squadron when the telephone rang.
He accompanied with another colleague doubled up to the briefing room. The message on the phone was crisp and clear. "Fall in. Immediately!" Both of them were running across the tarmac and were surprised to see most of the shift already there.

The briefing was about to begin by a young and efficient Flight Lieutenant. " Gentleman, there is an operation assigned to our squadron. We need the entire shift and some others whose name is on this list to move immediately to an undisclosed location." Said the young officer waving a paper. "There will be an IL and an AN to pick every one up exactly 2 hours from now. Go to your barracks/ homes. Have lunch, pack your bags and report exactly at 1600 hrs."

 Everyone was listening to the young officer with rapt attention. A range of thoughts were criss-crossing through everyone's mind. Akhil glanced in anticipation by letting his pupils sideways to his seniors who were present there. A need to understand this briefing and its implications was overwhelming. However, every one present there was looking straight. A pang of guilt.... 'Look straight soldier'  he said to himself. Almost like an afterthought, the Flight Lieutenant said, "Bachelors, leave a message for your loved ones inside your cupboards and lock it . Disperse".

The Desk I/C presented a crisp salute to the officer as he returned the same and moved away towards the crew room.
The Desk I/C, an MWO with 35 years of service behind him didn't have much to add. "You heard the officer gentlemen. Disperse, check for your names on the list at the notice board in 2 minutes, and be here on time".

It was in the bike-stand that they started discussing.... 'What's this all about? ', 'I have my PG exams!. Guess I have to reschedule them'; 'How long is it going to take, this operation?.. You see, My marriage is fixed early next month...' 'My parents were supposed to visit me ...'

The mess was noisier than usual. Looked like more than usual jokes were making rounds. The air warriors were having their lunch like usual but with an extra gleam in the eyes. "Is this sudden operation covert?" Akhil overheard a colleague asking another. "Sir, overt or covert, I'm already a part of the operation. I am only thinking of what to write to my parents?.." ;Hmmm.. So people are thinking alike...'  Akhil said to himself as he began his lunch and making mental notes of what to write, whom all to write and what to pack.

After a quick lunch and placing a well thought-out and carefully worded letter locked in the cupboard, he was all set for the journey...

...to be continued

Dear Friend

Dear friend,

As you were the one who was with me during all the rough tide,

The going was tough and a rough weather to ride,

Because we shared innumerable laughs, and together we had cried

You were the one who just knew how I felt, every time I sighed

And so, even if you are away today,  You’ll always find me by your side…

R.I.P. Jagjit Singh

Tumne kiya mausiki se mukhatib mujhe,
Tujhse aashiqui ka matlab tha jaana,
Na wo aashiq hai aaj, nao wo aashiqana raha,
Tujh bin "Shah-e-mausiki", ye afsaana wo afsaaana na raha...

Nazar badle, sama badla, muhabbat badli, jahaan badla
Tujh bin "Raazdaar-e-dil", Dil ka ye thikaana wo thikaana na raha...

Haalaat alag, bhes badla, pata bhi hua aur,
Tujh bin "Jagjit", ye zamana woh zamana na raha...

Bharat Band.. 5th July 2010

Taalon ka latakna, ralliyon ki bahaar...
kaam kaz sab thapp, bebas pe atyachar...
bus ko aag lagana, maar-peet ke samaachar...
rail ko rokna, aam admiyon par prahaar..
khud ko kuch kaam nahi, baakiyon ko karo bekaar...
apni party ka naam ho, desh se kya sarokaar...
Mubarak ho aapko Bharat Band ka tyohaar...

The Namasteeeeeyyyy Uncle!

He was a rich man; a rich businessman, with a happy family. Suddenly he was on the streets!! His sweet and lovely son had thrown him out on the roads to be on the pity of other Malayalees of the society. It had been quite a few years that I kept seeing him at my doorsteps regularly every week...Perhaps he even had fixed days for fixed places.. was it Wednesdays for us or Fridays...? I don't remember. I was just a kid at that time...28 years back. what I remember is that he had a fixed rate- Rs. 2.00. It was a routine... he would come in front of our house's gate (as perhaps he did to other Malayalees') and just say in his plain , loud, elongated and stretched voice.."NAMASTEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYY!" and would start babbling to himself in a God-knows-what language.
2.00 Rs. to "Namastey Uncle".. if it were any less, my mom or I had to explain that we didn't have the amount then, and that he should come the next day to collect it. If the amount that we gave to him was more than a 2 Rs. note, he would calculate the remainder, search his bag for the amount and then laugh his heart out and would ask of our well being. "Yellam Sukhamalle?" he would ask and my mom would answer "Paramasukham!!" He would happily move on....
I had tried to make out some sense of what he was holding under his breath, but I failed every time. My failure to understand his gibberish language could be attributed only to his looks as I was a considered a smart kid by others and by myself. He looked really dangerous.. Unkempt, unwashed and spread hair, his long and shapeless stick which he used as a support for walking, torn blazers(he wore them even in Bhilaian summers), worn out slippers, a huge bag made of old pieces of clothes across his shoulders...

But even behind all these outward appearances, studded there on his bearded face were two innocent eyes. They were red.. always...but I am sure they were innocent. And that is why, even when he hugged me too tightly sometimes when I went to give 2 Rupees to him, I never felt insecure, or frightened or guilty.
No one amongst the Malayalees in Bhilai was afraid of "Namastey Uncle". He would not speak to any person from any other part of India. He would only visit Malayalees as he knew where each one of them stayed. He would stop only at their gates and would be promptly handed over a 2 or 5 rupees note. No questions asked. Even when we changed our residence, he would come and visit only up till the gate.
Then for some weeks we didn't see him. I didn't notice his absence till one day I realized that our "Namastey Uncle" was not to be seen for so many days.
I was told that he died. Some said it was an accident, some said he died of extreme intake of liquor, some said he died of heart attack, some said since he was mentally sick, he couldn't have lived long anyways... so he died.
Whenever I see a beggar in front of my house, images of 'Namamstey Uncle' flash by and I feel like I could still hear the long, plain, elongated, stretched "NAMASTEEEEEY"... Its been a long time since I stopped giving alms.

The Transition

Thinking of you as always, I found one day...

The "dove eyes" that bound you and me had lost their twinkle,

The hairlock that made me restless when it came betwen us was nowhere to be seen,

Lost were the hands that were once in mine, to be there till eternity,

Dried were the petal lips that once had the lust to drive any saint crazy,

The innocent face that had me fixed for years had vanished...

Couldn't think a thing about you,

Could still feel you disappearing,

I was lost as I lost you,

You were gone and i was aghast,

You were gone and I was reborn...

-- Nishant, July 2001