My horse riding days!

The year of 1966 is memorable to me for two main reasons;one that my younger sister got married that year, and the other, just a month prior to that, I fell off a horse I was riding while serving in an army unit in Himachal Pradesh. And that takes me to my first posting after I was commissioned as a second lieutenant, to an AT (animal transport) unit. And that too as it's officer commanding, OC for short. In retrospect, I think I can write a mini novel of this stint which lasted for about two years from 1964 to 1966. Maybe I will do it some day. For the present, let me stick to this tale of my falling off a horse!

I will like to give you some details about horses, real horses (not the ponies one rides at hill stations!) so that you can understand some parts of this story better. I hope you will find it interesting, more than my falling which comes later!!!

I was the only officer in my unit which had close to a hundred soldiers. And it had a complement of 4 horses or rides as they are called and 96 mules. Horses were for riding by officers and NCOs for command and control of mules column while on a march in hilly terrain. The mules were meant for carrying ammunition and stores on special saddlery. The 4 horses included 1 ride A and 3 rides B. Allow me to explain this! Height of horses is measured in 'hands'. A 'hand' means a clenched human hand which is taken as equal to 4 inches. Height of a horse is measured in 'hands' form the point of withers which is just where the neck starts, to the ground level. Ride A must be a minimum of 15 hands which comes to 60 inches or 5 feet. It is meant to be ridden by an officer. Ride B is meant for NCOs and soldiers and is below 15 hands in height. Class and rank distinction? Well, sort off!

I as an officer was expected to ride the only Ride A who was named Salim as per the records. A huge chestnut colored animal, i was just a few inches taller than him at the point of his withers. Even to climb on his back fitted with a saddle was a challenge. And he was also a bit moody or so I thought. Because, other riders in my unit, NCOs and soldiers, good riders mostly Jats from Haryana, could ride him easily. To my credit, gradually, I learned to handle and ride Salim reasonably well. We all always rode in proper gear wearing breeches and riding boots. In a month or so, I became pretty confident. The horses had to be ridden and exercised every morning and evening to keep them in fit condition. Normally, I did my riding on Salim in the mornings regularly.

One fine day, my NCOs suggested that we take all the four horses a little more distance on the surrounding hills. I agreed and we started on the horse backs at a slow canter. Soon we were on top of a small hill which had a flat top of about 200 yards in radius. On top of Salim, I was leading as expected and the other three riders following me. We started taking circles of the ground at a canter. But after a few rounds, Salim took me by complete surprise and increased his speed without any signal or command from me. I kept pulling the reins but he just did not bother to my commands. And soon, he started going to the edges of that piece of ground changing to a gallop. I became very scared and realized that I had lost control of Salim. I feared that at any moment, he may just go off the ground and fall with me in the deep cliffs. And then I did something a good rider would never do! I took out my both feet from the stirrups and jumped off Salim to save my life!

As I fell on the ground with a big thud, Salim miraculously stopped running. Other riders climbed off their horses and helped me to my feet. I felt immense pain in my right forearm. It was clear that I had broken a bone. We were a few miles away from our base and the worse was, I had to sit on my horse to be able to get back and report to the military hospital. There was no other option! My fellow riders helped me to climb on Salim with some difficulty. One of them held the reins and led Salim and the rest very slowly at a snail's pace and we reached our base in a couple of hours.

In a few weeks time, I was able to attend my sister's wedding, albeit with my right arm in a huge plaster!

A love story!

The passenger train stopped at a wayside station. It was an unscheduled stop because of derailment of a goods train which had occurred a few miles ahead. It would take at least a day before the track was repaired and cleared. That meant that this train had to return to it's starting station;there was no other option. And that too will happen after a few hours before the railway authorities could sort out the mess!

 Passengers cursed their fate and then got out of the train to explore the small station and the adjoining small town in search of a tea shop or such thing. He was one of them, a young man going to meet his distantly related uncle and aunt with a specific purpose. After he lost his parents some years back, they were his nearest relatives. He joined a small group of stranded passengers who found a small dhaba close by where one could buy some snacks and tea. They settled down on a couple of rickety benches. For the dhaba owner, it was a God sent!

As they waited for tea, he overheard two young women talking in low tones. One of them looked very upset with a personal issue. 'How could she do it to me' she was telling her friend. ' I do not know this man, never met him in my whole life. And my mother wants me to be engaged to him just because he is sort of related to her!' She began sobbing softly as her friend tried to console her. He felt very sorry for her, more so because she was pretty and looked so vulnerable. The woman continued her conversation with her friend. 'I am glad for this train derailment. A good excuse to postpone if not cancel the engagement. After reaching our hostel, I will call my mother to stall the event by a few days. No need to rush. Then I will see what to do!'

The tea was ready, said the dhaba man. The group had their fill and returned to the station. After a wait  of a couple of hours, the train started it's return journey and soon reached their destination. Our young man had already called his uncle the reason why he could not reach their place. He promised that he would come after a few days. His uncle replied that it was fine, he can wait considering the circumstances. He would tell him when to come. The young man used his balance of few days leave to meet and pursue the young woman he had seen during the disrupted train travel. He felt that he was in love with her!

She too liked him. She thought he was such a nice man with a good personality. He had told her that he knew of her predicament and would help her to overcome same. He explained his plan to her. She thought about it and then agreed. She would do anything to get out of her situation. How caring and thoughtful of him! She wondered what kind of man her parents want her to be engaged. In a few days, our young man was ready to travel. He apprised her of the date and other details. It was well before the new date of her engagement. She could have easily hugged him. Was he surprised that she so readily agreed!

They travelled on the due date and reached the place where her parents lived. After reaching their home, she rang the bell. Her mother opened the door. According to the plan, with a beating heart, the girl announced to her mother, 'Mom, I have married this person. Please do not be too upset. I am very sorry that now I can not get engaged to any one. Please forgive me and meet my husband'! Her mother was quickly  joined by her uncle and they both were aghast and stunned. Then her mother exclaimed ' but my dear, he is the person to whom you were supposed to be engaged in the first place and you were so unhappy about it!'

No problem, said the happy young man, nothing is lost, let us start the process, 'We are ready to be engaged today and then to be remarried any time!'

Life in these United States!

Life in these United States!

My wife and I live half the time of the year in the state of California in this great country, the United States of America simply because both our children, our son and daughter (and their families) have settled down here after they finished their education and started working. We love this country for many, many obvious reasons. Nice well maintained roads, beautiful public parks with lush greenery, disciplined traffic conditions, schools with their large playgrounds, general cleanliness, good public services, so on and so forth.

But given a choice, we still feel more happy and comfortable in our good old Pune in India! I had the occasion today to talk about this with my daughter with whom I was driving to pick up her younger son, my grandson, from a music class. And let me say, it is only when I am accompanying her or my son, son in law or daughter in law on such errands that I get to talk to them at length on any subject. Rest of the time, they are too busy for such mundane things like talking with retired seniors like me! Does not matter, let me come back to my conversation with my daughter this evening.

We were comparing life here and in India, mainly social life and interactions and were in general agreement that it is more warm, close and satisfying in India than here. Why it should be so is a matter of debate and analysis of many factors affecting people who have made this country their home. But I argued with her, what is noteworthy about India is that all your neighbours are your friends even if not very close. You can easily chat with a passerby for a few minutes on something or the other. Here, you may say hi to a dozen people every day while on walks without any real conversation. You hardly see or know your neighbours even when you have lived on the same street for decades!

In an emergency, the first thing we do in India is to knock on the doors of your neighbour. Here, the first thing you would do is to call 911 which is fine and another subject not under discussion. This is not to say that people are not helpful here. But they prefer to keep distance for reasons which perhaps also include legalities. Houses and the lawns in front are neat and tidy. You will notice a number of cars in front of the garages. But you never see anyone out except when they are getting in or out of their cars. There is simply no question of finding kids playing in the streets!

Basically, my daughter and I were talking about people, humans who appear to have taken a back seat of sorts. The small town atmosphere which is still in abundance in large parts of India is conspicuous by it's absence in the area we live in here. I was wondering if it is still there in small towns in the hinterlands of America across east, west, north and south. Is our society in developed countries, thanks to science is paying a price for too much progress, development, advances in all fields?

And that brings me to the question of what is too much progress! Is there any limit laid down anywhere by anyone? It is just not possible considering what man has achieved already. After the truly revolutionary advent of wheels ages back to flying into inner and outer space, landings on moon and Mars, we still can not fathom what is possible on our planet, the earth itself. Driverless cars is one of those things. My elder grandson who is crazy about cars responded in disgust with these words to this latest possibility; 'what is the point of having a car which you do not have the pleasure to drive! Ridiculous!'

I suppose only a child has the insight to bring the society at large to it's senses in it's senseless pursuits of progress and development, with such observations. What is scary is that in the not too distant future, human beings would become obsolete on our planet which will be run by robots!

Why me?!

Why does it always happen to me? I mean things which as if want to put me in my place with a tag of a loser. You are wondering what I am talking about. I will elaborate it with a few examples!

I have regularly observed when I am driving and approaching a road junction with lights, the green changes rather fast to orange and then red when I would have just made it. The whole system is designed to make my otherwise excellent driving a bit tedious I am convinced! Such peculiar phenomenon is extended and is manifested in other areas too. Years back, when I had to travel by the Indian railways, in spite of planning my journey well in advance, my name always appeared to be way down in the waiting list. The list would of course shorten, but will just stop when I came on the top!

When I was in college, bell bottom pants were the fashion for a few years. So I decided to buy a pair. And then I discovered that boys of my age had started discarding them and switching over to regular jeans. I bought my first T shirt when I was fifty plus, grey to be sure to merge with the surroundings. Nothing flashy or colorful! Same with graduating from old style canvass shoes to sneakers, always behind my generation. That brings me to my 'hair' story!

My hair started greying at an early age. My friends were luckier;they got them at a reasonable age and then quickly started coloring them. Smart fellows! I was too shy to follow suit, mainly because I realized that I should have done it much earlier. Now I had reached a stage when my head was more white than black and it would have been a big leap. So I bravely continued in my state and did not join the crowd. And at this stage of my wise resolution, who else but my young daughter should arrive on the scene, visiting us during her college summer break. She (and my dear wife) conspired and brain washed me into doing the unthinkable;coloring my hair black! 'Dad, you will look so young'!

 At that point of time, I was an instructor at a training school in the army in Mumbai. My first hour used to be my prepared lecture to a class of about twenty student officers on a given subject. I was pretty good in my job. But that Monday morning, I was not very confident for a reason you can easily guess. With my heart pumping at an alarming rate, I entered the class room with my full black hairdo. The students, all officers and some senior to me in rank, stood up as was the custom. And were they stunned?! That would be an understatement of sorts. They looked at me, forgot to say the usual 'good morning sir';they just stared and stared as if saying who is this man! Needless to say, I went through my lecture with pauses at all wrong places and quickly went back to my office.

No big deal, I did not lose anything worthwhile you might say and you would be right I suppose. But much before this time when I was a young man, I missed something or somebody worthwhile, or so I thought! I had a friend, a girl about whom I was serious. As was my nature, I was diffident and took my own time to come to the point. She too took her own time when another young man appeared on the scene. He was smart, much smarter and faster than me. Some other factors also came into play. I would not like to bore you with all that. What mattered was that he won the competition if ever there was one! I had missed the bus as the saying goes. But not really!

In retrospect, that was a lucky miss. In fact, I was very fortunate! Because, there was another girl who was patiently waiting for me. I am happily married to her for more than fifty years!

Hanging and marrying go by destiny!

This post is about a true incident which happened many years back when I was serving in the army. It is about an officer who served with me in a battalion at a semi field area where families were not permitted. It is also about the fickleness of men and tenacity of women in certain circumstances. As they say, life is stranger than fiction! I found this true in this particular story I am about to narrate.

Let me use a fictitious name for this officer for the sake of anonymity. I will call him Capt Yaad. He was an officer of medium height and build, very average. He had two weaknesses namely wine and women. I suppose all men have them to varying degrees. But he was pretty ahead and would beat the rest by a mile. This landed him in all sorts of trouble. According to his service records, he was married. But we had never met his wife. She was supposed to be living in his village he came from. 

Capt Yaad was also remarkable for his voice and his fluency in Hindi language. He came from the gangetic belt in the north and had the ability to hold your attention when he spoke. When sober, he was simply fascinating, just like Amitabh Bacchan! But when he was under the effect of alcohol, he became a sheer nuisance. Inevitably, he got into many physical fracas and got beaten up on some occasions. Alcohol and such scuffles took their toll. Therefore, he was never in good shape or medical category A,  a prerequisite for getting posted in forward areas. He mostly remained in peace stations which suited him in any case. You can easily guess that he was least bothered about his career prospects. Further, he also had to be admitted in military hospitals for periodic review or medical treatment from time to time. Somehow, his condition did not result in his permanent discharge from the army which was a pity. He carried on gamely!

This brings me back to his ability to charm people when sober. It is said that women in particular are vulnerable to men with an evil streak. There is some truth in that belief I feel. Good men are so boring! It was common knowledge that in his every stay at the military hospitals which were frequent, he would strike friendship with pretty nurses. He would pose as a bachelor. Many of those unsuspecting women just could not resist him and fell victim to his guiles. He used to have his good time, depart with false promises of marriage and then rejoin his unit unscathed. Once again, one fine day, he was required to get admitted in a army hospital for medical reasons. As a standard practice, our office issued him with a movement order and a railway warrant to proceed. He went to the army hospital, got admitted and after a week or so, he was discharged to return to our base. We came to know of this only because a copy of his return movement order issued by the hospital reached us by post. 

But there was no sign of Capt Yaad! It was just half a day's travel by train. Where was he, we wondered! We waited for another day and then got very concerned. Did he meet with an accident? Our commanding officer, a Lt Col, rang up the hospital and got a confirmation that Capt Yaad was indeed discharged two days back. It became a mystery as there were no reports of any mishap from police or other authorities. We waited another week or so and then as per the army law, our commanding officer considered him as AWOL, meaning absent without leave and decided to declare him a deserter. An apprehensive roll was issued for apprehending him wherever he was. In all such cases, copies of apprehensive roll are sent to police authorities of the town to which such person belongs, and to the district authorities. As and when they find him, they are supposed to arrest him and bring him to his army unit. In the army, there can not be a worse fate than being declared a deserter! We waited for the process to take it's due course and soon forgot about this guy as a lost case and a bad egg!

After about two months, as we were getting ready to go for lunch in our officers mess, we suddenly noticed an army truck stopping in the front. And who else but our missing Capt Yaad getting down from the front seat! To say that we were shocked would be an understatement. More so when we saw him helping a young woman to come out of the vehicle. After unloading their baggage from the rear of the truck, they approached us and he introduced the woman as his wife. We continued to be speechless as the plot thickened;she did not appear to be a person from his village, we thought. But well, we had to accept her as his wife, a lady wife deserving a civilised greeting. Our commanding officer welcomed her in to the mess along with her husband who had been declared a deserter!

There was not much talk about anything during the lunch with due consideration for the lady. But soon after, our commanding officer took Capt Yaad on one side and told him that families were not permitted in that area in any army unit. So he had to arrange some accommodation in the town nearby for his wife. More importantly, he himself was a declared deserter and would be confined to a room with soldiers as guards. Rest of the day was used to meet these requirements with the help of a couple of young officers. Next day, the stage was set for disciplinary proceedings against Capt Yaad for his offence of desertion!

A court of inquiry followed by summary of evidence according to army rules was arranged. This was followed in due course with a court martial. Finally, Capt Yaad was awarded civil imprisonment of some years and automatic dismissal from the army. It was a sad day for the officers cadre of the army! But he fully deserved it!

But this is not the end of this story. After about three years or so, I visited an army installation with many officers as part of a training course. It was commanded by a smart officer of the rank of a major. In the evening, we were invited to his residence for a dinner party. And who do you think was his lady wife who welcomed us with a smile and without batting an eyelid?

The same Mrs Yaad whom I had met three years back!