I AM A PROUD (?) INDIAN SOLDIER

I am a soldier, an Indian soldier. I have been serving my motherland, under her glorious flag, for ages now. While the British were here, they sent me to fight thousands of miles away to places like Africa and Europe during the WW I, places which I had not even known existed, much less their anything to do with my country. But still I went and fought, and then died. So many of us died, but only fortunate kith and kin could have a last look at their dead heroes. Many never returned. I was again sent out to foreign lands during the WW II, to fight someone else’s battle and die once again. For me it has become a ritual now, to fight when I am asked to, defend my nation and then die. I have mostly gone unsung in my own country, for which I lay down my life. But I have never resented this.  My enemy is always identified and defined by my leaders, sitting in the air conditioned environs of Lutyen’s Delhi. I have died many deaths over the course of last hundreds of years. 1948, 1962, 1965, 1971, 1999. No, that’s not the end of the list. I have taken part in so many operations in addition to these major wars that my mind now becomes numb thinking of them and has started losing count, of late. I liberated Goa, fought in Hyderabad , Maldives, saved my country from insurgents in Nagaland, Manipur, Tripura, Meghalaya, Assam, Punjab, J & K and many more places. You remember 1962? Our irresponsible leaders, I feel very low calling these good for nothing scumbags as our leaders, did a gigantic blunder against Chinese for which we paid with our lives. The most worthless, self indulging and self serving JL Nehru and his coterie brought in unfathomable shame and harm to the nation. That’s a long, sordid story. Then came Nehru’s daughter, Indira Gandhi, the ever so clever and shrewd politician that she was, she delivered a baby in Punjab, a religious one, to counter the opposition party. All political game plan, you see. And when the boy became too big and difficult to handle, she ordered the Army to sweep him out of the Golden Temple. We did that too, albeit at an extremely heavy cost to our military fibre. And then came along her elder son, another master of treachery. It was time for Op Pawan now.  Another country, another shore but the same old story. Politicians muddle and soldiers sweep the area clean. I wonder how, in the first place, the Nehru progeny is still being tolerated by all of us to be a part of this country. After what Nehru, Indira and Rajiv did to our country, the rest of the family should have long been sent packing. Why did I never question their decisions, rather their ulterior motives? Simply because I was taught in the training academy that “the safety and honour of your country comes first, always and every time.” It is a different matter altogether that these words were spoken by someone as great as Chetwode but applied in our context where scoundrels rule the roost. So, the story is the same, only our leaders and their nefarious designs change. Leave alone military operations, I am called at the slightest pretext for sundry duties in aid to civil authorities. Anything adverse in the country, call out the Army. To the extent that these shameless dhotiwalas and babus even use me for a job as petty as extricating children who fall in manholes left open so carelessly about municipal corporations.

When India got freedom, Sir Winston Churchill wrote about India:

"Power will go to the hands of rascals, rogues, freebooters; all Indian leaders will be of low calibre and men of straw. They will have sweet tongues and silly hearts. They will fight amongst themselves for power and India will be lost in political squabbles."

How come Churchill could see the writing on the wall, and not we? How did the likes of Bhagat Singh, a man of very high intelligence, a real intellectual, fail to see ahead? He had a premonition, though.

One day in 1996, the anguish took the better of me, and I just picked up a pen and a paper and wrote a letter, “Dying for Whom?” (under my wife’s name for obvious reasons) to The Times of India, which they published on 23 Dec 1996, thereby sparking a chain of outpouring from the readers, the last of which was published by ToI on 04 Mar 1997.

I had been serving the nation in every kind of terrain from minus 45 degree temperature on the Siachen Glacier to 50 degree searing deserts and had been continuously dying. A time had come now to look back and within to find out whom did I die for really? I wanted an answer. Lt Gen RN Mahajan, PVSM, VSM, a senior General must have read that letter of mine for he wrote a two page article “Please Answer Dimple” in Jun 1997 issue of The Infantry Journal, a prestigious professional journal of the Infantry. I wasn’t impressed.

These so called leaders and bureaucrats of India have been deliberately downgrading the status of the Armed Forces by way of reducing pensions, lowering the status of service chiefs in the order of precedence and by creating confusion to mislead. And the initiator of these devilish designs was, who else, the devil himself, Nehru. The proverbial ‘final nail in the coffin’ was driven by the BJP government on 14 Aug 2015 through Delhi Police when the latter manhandled veterans sitting quietly on relay hunger strike in Jantar Mantar protesting for implementation of One Rank One Pension (OROP), a rightful issue kept in limbo by the successive governments for last over three decades. The police tore the hard earned service medals off the veterans’ shirts and shoved them around, beating and humiliating. Reason? The Real Defenders of the Nation, their services having been availed all these years, their prime youth having been snatched away, their bodies having been bled to protect India, had now become a ‘security threat’ in the capital where the next day our honourable civil leaders were scheduled to celebrate their Independence Day! Our leaders, uh. A big bunch of illiterate, indifferent, self serving, corrupt to the core parasites with boastful criminal records on their CVs.

Yes, I am deeply hurt. But so what? What’s the big deal? What have I ever done for this country? Died a hundred times? So? My dear sir, India is a nation for which Josh Malihabadi had lamented:

“Gardan ka tauq paon ki zanjeer kaat de,

Itni ghulam qaum mein himmat kahan hai ‘Josh’?

Apni tabahiyon pe kabhi gaur kar sake,

Itni zaleel mulk ko fursat kahan hai ‘Josh’?

Ik harf garm sunte hi lau de uthe dimaag,

Hindustan mein wo haraarat kahan hai ‘Josh’?

In this country there are much bigger stars than you, you ordinary soldier! Why should people read about you? Why should the media cover your issues? What have you done? Just look around, you will find our demi God cricketers who have been ‘playing so hard for their country’, Bollywood stars who entertain public with their vulgar body moves and filthy dialogues, corrupt leaders who make headlines, Rahul Gandhis, who are national leaders without any claim to fame or credentials, Priyanka Gandhis, who are in the news for all the wrong reasons, Robert Vadras, Lalit Modis, Jayalalithas, Laloos, Badals, Sharad Pawars, Sonia, the list is endless. They are the ones who are true and loyal Indians. We have so many God men and God women who enlighten millions of utterly religious and superstitious Indians every day. Are you even religious? I know a soldier has no religion. Then? What is your contribution to your country? People would rather read spicy stories in the media than your dry, lifeless tales of valour and sacrifice. You have no spice, go away, just go away, do your duty, and get used time and again by the politicians, die you must for your country. It is your duty. But beware, you must never ask for any dues, even if lawful and justified. Make do with what pittance the government pays you. What, what did you say? You retire at 35 as against 60 years for other government employees? Well, that’s your problem. Don’t engage the leaders and waste their time; can’t you see they are doing the important work of nation building? How to amass wealth, how to do another scam, how to bleed the country dry for personal gains, how to do nothing for the country, there are so many important things weighing on their minds already.

If the profession of arms in India had any sheen or glory, wards of politicians and bureaucrats would have joined in vast numbers. How many of them have served in the Armed Forces till date? This is India and not Israel where the son of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu (his elder brother Col Yoni had lead and died in the 1976 Entebbe Raid) has recently joined the Israeli Defence Force or the US where out of 44 presidents so far, 30 have been soldiers. So, take heart. Relax.

At times like these, my thoughts wander to a wonderful and aptly written poem by a fourth generation, 24 year old career officer in the Indian Armed Forces, spurred by the report of the Sixth Pay Commission and an insensitive article written by a 'respectable' denizen of the country in a national daily on the Armed Forces and the
pertinence of the Sixth Pay Commission therein. The free flowing verse has
not been edited; it's to ensure that the originality of the angst is maintained. After all, when you are in pain, the language of expression is the last thing on your mind.

OH INDIA… WHY DO I STILL SERVE YOU?

How you play with us, did you ever see?
At seven, I had decided what I wanted to be,
I would serve you to the end,
All these boundaries I would defend.

Now you make me look like a fool,
When at seventeen and just out of school;
Went to the place where they made "men out of boys"
Lived a tough life …sacrificed a few joys…

In those days, I would see my 'civilian' friends,
Living a life with the fashion trends;
Enjoying their so called "College Days"
While I sweated and bled in the sun and haze…
But I never thought twice about what where or why,
All I knew was when the time came, I'd be ready to do or die.

At 21 and with my commission in hand,
Under the glory of the parade and the band,
I took the oath to protect you over land, air or sea,
And make the supreme sacrifice when the need came to be.

I stood there with a sense of recognition,
But on that day I never had the premonition,
that when the time came to live me my due,
You'd just say," What is so great that you do?

Long back you promised a well to do life,
And when I'm away, take care of my wife.
You came and saw the hardships I live through,
And I saw you make a note or two,
And I hoped you would realize the worth of me;
but now I know you'll never be able to see,
Because you only see the glorified life of mine,
Did you see the place where death looms all the time?
Did you meet the man standing guard in the snow?
The name of his newborn he does not know.
Did you meet the man whose father breathed his last?
While the sailor patrolled our seas so vast?

You still know I'll not be the one to raise my voice,
I will stand tall and protect you in Punjab, Himachal and Thoise.

But that's just me you have in the sun and rain,
For now at twenty four, you make me think again;
About the decision I made, seven years back;
Should I have chosen another life, some other track?

Will I tell my son to follow my lead?
Will I tell my son, you'll get all that you need?
This is the country you will serve,
This country will give you all that you deserve?

I heard you tell the world "India is shining"
I told my men, that's a reason for us to be smiling,
This is the India you and I will defend!
But tell me how long will you be able to pretend?
You go on promise all that you may,
But it's the souls of your own men you betray.

Did you read how some of our eminent citizens,
Write about me and ridicule my very existence?
I ask you to please come and see what I do,
Come and have a look at what I go through.

Live my life just for a day,
I will still risk my life without a sigh,
To keep your flag flying high,
but today I ask myself a question or two…
Oh India…. Why do I still serve you?

“A nation that forgets its soldiers has no future.”

I can only salute my country. With an injured pride, hapless, moaning, bleeding, humiliated and feeling used, I lie in the battlefield of the dirtiest Indian political turf, too confused, too tired from a long and unnecessary battle with the enemy within and aghast. What to say? Whom to say? The worst wound I have received till date is that our present service chiefs did not raise even a feeble protest to the government for the way the veterans were manhandled and thrown out of the stage. So much for you, my Shining India!

But wait, my battle is not yet over. I am not yet done.

‘Aham Brahmasmi’. I am the Divine Flame. I am the Infinite Reality.

I will rise again from the ashes, I will die and live again for my country.

I know the enemy within - politicians and bureaucrats - is not better than me in any manner whatsoever.

 I am a proud Indian Soldier. I shall prevail forever.