P......2

            We were back at the bar. P--- was not in the best of moods.  The reason for his disquietude became evident when he told me that he had read  the story about his standing on the deck of the submarine in the face of a really bad storm and how he was brave in the face of it. "Angrezi acchha  likh lete ho". (Sarcastically)(You write well in english) he said.

            Before I could interrupt he put on his pedagogical face and continued"Storms happen. They are a way of life at sea. But what made this particular watch ( on the submarine) special, was that after my senior was sent below deck because of his injury I was alone on the deck. The constant battering by the waves was most enjoyable. Notwithstanding the damage that I was sustaining to my body. Was I Masochistic? I did not let that thought ruin my stint on the deck.  Memory seems hazy at this point. On a hindsight it was a huge wave that was my undoing. One moment I was on the deck and the next moment I was swallowing huge amounts of seawater. My battered body was was thrown about . I never hated salt more than at that moment. One moment I was close to fighting my way back onto the submarine and the next I  was pushed back relentlessly into the sea.The only good thing was that I was still tethered to the submarine with a rope. I was losing the will to fight back. It did come to my mind about ending it all by letting the sea have its way.  In those fleeting moments many thoughts passed through my mind. The thought of dying a virgin with no progeny to further the P--- line was abhorrent - and the fact that I had defied my dad to join the navy - when he wanted me to join the army energised me into struggling hard to get back onto the submarine - I had to prove him wrong." 

            The promise of  virgins in heaven did not in the least interest me. Whatever the bliss of conjugal life was - I wanted to experience it in this world. I regretted laughing at my my senior when he had got hurt and having considered him stupid for his carelessness. I resolved that when and if I got back on deck I would apologise to him. The going was tough . People say that negative thoughts are not good in times of emergency. I disagree. Negativity spurs you into action to do something positive.And this is precisely what happened. With the last remaining strength I somehow managed to get back on to the sub. I was terribly tired and ashamed of my carelessness.  My hands were chaffed and my stomach was full of salty seawater. For the next few minutes  I was puking my guts  out on the deck. Later I of course did not apologise to my senior. It would have been pointless as I myself was in a similar situation."

            By now P--- was in full flow.  "Have you ever experienced a moment in your life where your whole life rushed past you in a moment?" he said switching gears. "Yes" I replied; I was going to further expand on the subject but P--- did not give me a chance, he was on a roll and nothing would deter him from continuing about his life and times on the submarines. He continued as if I had not spoken.

             "You know" he said philosophically I have had a good life and I will continue to do so. A happy family good children and a fulfilling job full of challenges. But there are some defining moments when all that you have achieved seems inconsequential. Things which were important, no longer feel that way.   I resigned myself to a long night.

           " It was in the year 199- when we were in Bombay. I had settled into a routine on my submarine. Somewhere in the month of October we were out on an exercise at sea.The whole fleet was involved in this exercise. Our task was simulated attack on the fleet. We had achieved a good success rate and the mood in the submarine was upbeat. It was a trying time for all of us and the fact that we were getting back buoyed our mood tremendously. That was until the officer on the watch alerted us to the fact that we were were going to cross paths with a ship. The ship was headed south and our submarine was headed west . This is always a tense time for us as all the evasive maneuvers to avoid the ship were to be taken by us. Calculations were made and soon it was deemed safe and we were heaving a sigh of relief that an imminent collision was avoided .When we found to our horror that it was not. At that time I was in the conning tower on top of the submarine with another officer. As part of the drill the hatch on top of the conning tower and and the hatch at the bottom of the conning tower connecting to the submarine were sealed shut. The submarine was preparing to dive to avoid the ship. The periscope was unfortunately not lowered and  this proved our undoing. There was a screeching sound as metal ground against metal. The propeller of the ship struck the periscope and the conning tower was flooded with water. A part of the propeller sheared off the ship and got stuck in the submarine. Due to this sudden flooding there was no place left for me and my fellow officer to go. This was the moment of truth for me. Would I survive? Was there a chance for me to see my grand children? There was also a fleeting moment of relief that I would not have to repay my loans and there were these unresolved issues that I would not need to work out.... 

            The automatic desire to survive kicked in. In those few moments it was as if my brain rewired itself. No more useless thoughts. I was exploring each scenario  of survival with a clear and logical mind. And kept discarding each as quickly as they came to mind. Everything pointed to a sure demise at sea. I remembered from my training that it was most necessary to keep a calm mind. This did not seem possible at the moment because I was running out of options. Below the deck by now it must have been total emergency situation. The moment the breach was discovered the submarine crew instituted emergency drills to surface.Those moments almost proved costly to my life. The one scenario which stuck in my mind was the endeavour of the submarine to surface.When the submarine moved upwards I could feel the movement. By now everything had gone into slow motion. I could see my oxygen starved body slowly striving to reach towards the top of the conning tower. I kicked my legs and soon I was at the top sucking in oxygen(possibly created by the upward movement of the submarine) greedily. After a few moments in which I was thanking all the Gods for their munificence I suddenly realised that my fellow officer was nowhere to be seen. A part of my mind which strived for survival only a few moments earlier was hoping that he would surface soon, but the other part was sure that he would not... without a second thought I dove back into the water looking for my colleague. I found him at the bottom - passed out. I got hold of his collar and with desperation born out of the need to be alive I once again headed back to the top. To my great relief my colleague came to and started breathing as soon as we surfaced. The sea air never felt sweeter. I was glad that I pulled him out from under the water -  from what would have been certain death for him - had I left him there".It was one of the most rewarding moments of my life almost like a pregnant woman giving birth......In spite of the horrendous accident that had taken place the submarine managed to limp back to the harbour under its own steam. Not so the ship. Which had to be towed back by the tugboats from the harbour.

            For some time there was silence at the bar. It was a fascinating story. I was reluctant to disturb his memories as I could see that his face had a far off look. Finally I asked him "Did they award you a medal - for acting coolly under such tremendous pressure - for saving a life?" I asked him half in jest.

His smile said it all......

P....

His eyes followed her as she sashayed across the hotel lobby. He did not stop staring until she got into the lift. The girl became aware of him staring at her halfway across the lobby – almost stumbled in her hurry to reach the lift away from his penetrating stare. I was losing weight at his unashamed expression of admiration of the opposite sex – not because I did not like the opposite sex but because of the blatant way in which he did it.  In fact he was positively leering at her. I was silently beseeching him to ease off. His explanation – a poor one, I thought - was that her movement reminded him of the waves at sea. There was no point in telling him that half the hotel staff was aware of his interest. There was nothing one could do. It was a part of his existence.

Psychologically and physiologically there was nothing wrong with him. But he  had an affinity for closets. Don’t misunderstand me. He had a liking for closed spaces. Closets had nothing to do with sex .But one could definitely understand why he volunteered for Submarine duty.  Extrapolating from his present state into his past, one can safely say that he had an ordinary childhood. While in the academy, during the course of his training his propensity for getting into trouble with the authorities was legendary and he earned the sobriquet of ‘Punishment King’. The number of kilometres he clocked as a cadet undergoing punishments was phenomenal.

Thirty years later the only perceptible change was a bit of grey in his beard. He had lost none of his sprightliness and joie de vivre at them , making me apprehensive that we would be given marching orders  by the hotel staff . As it is they were eyeing us with a great deal of suspicion and dislike – stemming from the fact that we were there for a long time, drawing out on our drinks. That we were there for a long time was not their grouse. Constant criticism of their sloppy service and their poor turnout was really riling them. The conversation was desultory and comfortable. We were still trying to find our way around each other. Families, children and their progress and of course our course mates were all discussed, their relationships dissected and finally conclusions on their state of existence were arrived at.

In every conversation there comes that pregnant pause during which one does not know what to talk about. And so we turned back to the only thing that was common to both of us – our profession at arms. I had been meaning to ask him about his exploits on the Submarines. What sort of a life it was and why he joined the submarines. Even as I asked him his preference for submarines the answer came with a blinding insight -His love for closed spaces – that explained it all. His need for that extra thrill was already known. “Did you have any life threatening experiences?” was my next question.

“On my first voyage we had a rather crazy incident.” He said. “As you are aware the space in a submarine is very restricted. Privacy is nonexistent and the toilet is common to all . On this particular trip I was a raw youngster still getting to grips with my enforced incarceration in a tin can in the depths of the ocean. While I was mentally prepared for this, the reality was a huge shock. I felt like a caged lion who craved for the open spaces. This craving threatened to make itself vocal in a very drastic manner, when my prayers were answered. We developed a technical snag aboard the submarine.” “What snag?” I asked. P---  was rather put off by my interruption.“ Nothing it was just a technical snag” he said. He finally relented to my need for details and told me that the toilet was blocked . This created a huge stink in the submarine. “The whole problem in a submarine is that there is no place to run. The stink is all pervading. It gets into your brain into your clothes, it is there when you go to sleep and it is there when you wake up. There is no future.” His eyes clouded over with the memories of that stink. He roused himself from his reverie.

 “Anyhow to cut things short the submarine had to surface to affect repairs”; When we surfaced there was a full blown storm in progress . When a submarine surfaces a watch officer is detailed to man the conning tower. The drill is to stand on the conning tower, anchored to the railing so that one does not get washed away. Being the junior most I was the automatic choice for this task. There was nothing but a huge expanse of sea on all the sides. Do you know that the size of waves are determined by a variety of factors including the speed of the tide , prevailing ocean currents depth of the water and also the shape of the seafloor and presence of reefs sandbanks and temperature of the ocean? The  wind speed and open expanse of water play a major role in the size of the waves. All factors for my being thrashed about like a rag doll were present in abundance. But you know what? I revelled in being on the surface. I could actually see the waves building up as they rushed towards me. It was a scary experience and at the same time exhilarating. My body was cringing from the anticipated  pain as the waves rushed towards me. My mind on the other hand rushed out to embrace the oncoming waves. As each wave came towards me the beauty of this savagery excited me beyond my wildest dreams.

My senior who was alongside me, on the other hand was not having such a good time. His eyes were bloodshot and if could have his way he would have made short work of my happiness – despite the pounding the waves were giving me – by murdering me there and then. This went on for some time. I screaming in happiness with each new swell and my senior getting worked up at my incomprehensible glee. Finally he could not take it anymore. He turned towards me - probably to tell me to shut up – when a huge wave struck us. It took my breath away and in that unguarded moment banged my senior against the wall. Soon he was howling – not in happiness – in pain. He had injured his back. He was safely evacuated into the submarine and my moment of unfettered freedom was ended as the technical glitch was cleared.”

His description held me in a thrall. I wanted him to share more about his experiences. At this point his very disapproving  wife sent summons for us for dinner. In spite of  his bravado and hair raising experiences at sea (and under it ) it was obvious that P--- would not risk her ire. And so dinner it was with a promise of more at a later stage...

Run Srini Run

"I was always late for school" - Srini

It was the same story all over again. Srini found himself among the latecomers ,standing outside the gate. He could still hear the strains of the morning prayer from the assembly ground as a multitude of voices sang in unison. Soon he could see the children heading towards the classes in an orderly fashion. The ground was quite again. He braced himself for the punishment for his tardiness. The physical education teacher could be strict. He was also a sadist. The punishment could be anything from a few whacks on the bottom with a cane and if the teacher was feeling benevolent then a tongue lashing . The teacher was also unimaginative. So, as was usual it was a run round the periphery of the school. Srini soon found himself running. There was the danger  of still getting corporal punishment if he came in last. Not to mention the humiliation of a smarting bottom which made it difficult to sit in the class throughout the day. This put wings on his feet and he managed to come in before all the others.The initial classes were sweaty and uncomfortable. But as the sun dried out the sweat, school became tolerable.

"I Beat the System" - Srini

This continued through  the years in school. . Physiologically,as he got older his legs got stronger and his lungs built up endurance. Somewhere along the way he felt that coming late unnecessarily focussed unwanted attention on him.The idea was to beat the system. And so he made efforts to come on time.He still missed the school bus as he woke up late and had to travel by civil buses. This meant changing two buses . Invariably he got late.But now he learnt new tricks. As soon as he was off the bus, he would take of at a run. As time passed he perfected the art of beating the clock. He would reach the gates just as they were closing. With his slight frame he would manage to squeeze through and be home and dry.  Leaving the Physical training teacher fuming at having missed another opportunity to punish Srini. It soon became a battle of wits between the physical education teacher and him - and a source of entertainment for the other children. Of course the children were cheering Srini. In his more spiteful moments the Physical education teacher would close the gates a full five minutes before the scheduled time, just to catch Srini on a wrong foot.

"My Sense of Competition Increased" - Srini

"Run Srini Run"                                    -  Other Students

This battle of wits brought out the best in Srini. It was a cat and mouse game which Srini won hands down. The children would exhort Srini with cries of "Run Srini Run..." goading him to improved performances. One day the Physical Education conceded defeat. Maybe it was a death in the family or maybe his daughter eloped - we will never know the reasons. But on that day his attitude changed he no longer gave a damn about Srini. Or so it seemed till that fateful day when the cross country team list was put up on the  bulletin board. Srini's name was included in the list of boys selected to participate in the cross country competition. Srini who would never run unless his life depended on it, was now officially a part of the school cross country team and hated it as only a young child could - with all his heart.. Into his twisted thinking came the uncharitable thought that perhaps the physical education teacher was exacting his revenge on him for all those times that he made an ass of him .  For the rest of his  time in school Srini was running for (as per him) for all the wrong reasons. The unfairness of it all was quite disheartening. Srini decided that he would never run all his life after leaving school....

" Priorities Change.." - Author

Srini went to college. Things were different at college. There were no penalties or punishments for going late to college. Srini went to college, got educated and came back home. He did not run on any day except when probably he had to visit the wash room in a hurry. While his views on life did not change in any other aspect, they did change in one sphere - and that was his interest in girls. The whole problem was girls liked boys who stood out in various fields.As far as they were concerned Srini was invisible. A whole night of deep thought as to his capabilities which would impress the girls made  Srini realise that the only field that he excelled in was running. Reluctantly he took up running - again. His prowess in track and field events got him noticed by the other sex. There was no dearth of girlfriends thereafter. As a consequence the years at college passed pleasantly  with many fond memories- what with all the adulation and admiration he received from the other sex for his exploits on the track. When college finished and he graduated , once again he hung up his running boots and promised himself that he  would never run again in his life....

Life goes on...

Along the way srini met the girl of his dreams and got married. In all respects it was a happy and satisfying union. With no major encumbrances and a steady job, Srini settled into his new life. His job took him to new places and with this came the pleasure of meeting new people and establishing new relationships. Once in a while when they got tired of the local climes he and his wife travelled all over the country and abroad. Srini liked the direction his life was going. To top it all - not a single day of running or even hurrying . No worries about missing deadlines or being late for anything. The years passed... It was time for Srini's annual medical check up. Little did Srini realise that there was a bombshell about to be explode. The day after his blood check up Srini was informed by his doctor that he was a borderline case for a lifestyle disease. And that he had to pull up his socks and change his sedentary lifestyle if he were to improve his health. Srini's world came crumbling about his ears. His mortality shocked him. Deep thought and introspection put him back on the roads. The first few days on the road were sheer torture. He could barely do two kilometres at a stretch. With grit and determination and the desire to outlive most of his friends Srini persisted in keeping at it. Soon he started enjoying the fresh air and quietness of the early morning runs.

In His Own Words...

" Somehow that which I hated doing all my life ultimately proved to be a lifesaver. I never did imagine that I would be a vulnerable to these diseases. I always thought it was only for other people - people who had served their time on earth and were ready to meet their maker for settling scores for their sins on earth. When things happen closer to home then one sits back and thinks . I wanted to have a full an complete life". There was that far off look on Srini's face. Then as if aroused from his dream he continued; " Results of my attempts at working out were almost immediately evident in my medical test results. I vowed that I would never ever have a medical problem in my life. Since I was already running I decided to participate in long distance races. Soon I was leading the pack. I won numerous awards and cash prices. I started participating in races all over the country. The races and the awards thereafter kept the whole thing very interesting. Over a period of time I came to know all the regulars, and a side bet or two on how many of them I would beat fetched me a tidy sum".

"The high I was on after winning a race was worth the effort that went into preparing for the race. I will never forget my physical education teacher nor will I forget my school mates who exhorted by shouting "Run Srini Run..... "










Srini was now about 55 years of age. New friends were made on the early morning route. One day one of his friends told him about a competition for his age group. Srini decided to participate for the heck of it. The first race for his age group did not go all that well. he came in at the fortieth position. But the achievement of completing a gruelling race gave him a sense of accomplishment. For the first time in his life Srini enjoyed running. Soon he was participating in most of the races all over the country. And in no time he was leading the pack. When asked about his emergence as a serious contender for various race competitions, at a school competition Srini said '" the adrenaline high from having run a race and the adulation thereafter - not to talk about the huge amount of bounty for having stood first is priceless.....

The Hangover (The Raising II)

The song kept playing in his mind – “ Koi Hamdam Na Raha Koi Sahara Na Raha”.... – Over and over again. He slowly came to from his rather troubled sleep. His head was throbbing. Try as much as he could he could not remember anything about the previous evening. When he looked down he saw that he was still fully dressed. Before he could continue contemplating on his doings the previous evening,overpowering nausea took hold of him. He barely made it  to the toilet bowl. In spite of his best efforts some of the vomit splashed on his feet. And then one mystery was solved. He had had dinner the previous night. Bits and pieces of chicken adorned his highly polished shoes along with paneer and half chewed rajma he could also make out some haribhari kebab... Koi Hamdam na Raha...  the song refused to go away. It all came back to him in disjointed memories. A smile tugged at his lips when he remembered  the animated dancing during the party. He shook his head when trying to clear it. The images of the previous evening came unbidden.

Just like all other parties, the Raising day party had started off on a sedate note . All the guests arrived formally turned out for the evening revelries. As was usual the ladies were dressed to kill. The colours nearly blinded him.And the variety of costumes was fantastic.His mind boggled when he thought about a theme party. That would have been surely outrageous.But that was not what interested him right now. It was necessary that- having been a part of the ‘Paltan’ – he assist the present lot of youngsters in ensuring that all guests were looked after. He believed in what one of his seniors told him; "Youngster" - he had said- " a party is deemed to be going well when the guest is received at the entrance and a drink of his/her choice put in their hand . Thereafter it is upto the guests to look after themselves". He always followed this valuable tip and imparted it to others wherever he had gone on posting.It had stood him in good stead all these years....

           The urge to participate in the revelries was reluctantly stifled - A gesture to the waiter with a tray laden with drinks to the guest who expressed his desire for a small whisky - Of course,  as was his wont, he tried to force a large drink on the guest - he could never understand the concept of ‘social drinking - "you drank to get drunk"was his philosophy. Not hold a drink in your hand as crutch to make small talk. These parties were so predictable. Initially there was a trickle of guests. The hosts stood at the gate , all attention to fulfill the smallest desire of the guest. Then they came in hordes. Leaving the hosts and the waiters confused and hassled. By this time some of the hosts left it to the younger lot to receive the latecomers, so as to look after their own friends and acquaintances. Finally the only person and lady at the entrance were the chief host and lady anxiously awaiting the arrival of the chief guest.Once he arrived, it was obligatory for the chief guest to make the rounds It was funny seeing the youngsters distancing themselves from their drinks and stubbing out cigarettes when the chief guest approached them. There were others who found it convenient to tag along with him dutifully laughing at his jokes.

The arrival of the guests went on for the next half an hour. The earlier guests were already on their second drink.

On the insistence of a youngster he finally succumbed to Bacchus. Moving from one guest to another he made small conversation, joked with the ladies , shook a leg on the dance floor, gorged himself with the snacks and along the way found that his glass was never empty. He assumed that he was being conservative and was going slow on the booze. He attributed his wobbly legs to the continuous celebrations as a build up to this major event now in progress. In any case seeing the way the party was swinging he felt proud about the whole thing . He could never stop being amazed at the resilience and dedication of the unit. Only a few days back the unit was in a gruelling exercise . The Commanding officers losing weight thinking about how they would cope up with the influx of guests and today they were celebrating in a grand manner.

            It was somewhere between the fourth and fifth drinks that he lost all his inhibitions. Suddenly he was the most visible person on the dance floor. He had his share of luck when his request for a dance was graciously accepted by the ladies and they accompanied him there. But as his movements started resembling someone with an electric eel down his back – they started avoiding him. Rejections did not matter . He looked at the world in general with a benevolent eye and continued dancing solo. When the guests started drifting towards the tastefully laid out dinner, he felt betrayed and all alone in this world.

         Finally it was time for the unit people to get together and let down their hair. The guests having partied and dined left while the night was still young. That was the catchword- the night was still young. As per his count he was still on his second drink. (He was mindful of his wife’s admonitions – do not drink too much). Everyone was on the floor dancing away to glory. He was on the sidelines for the time being.  Refreshing  his drink. His second for the night. This went on from sometime. On a chair close by there was this person who had finally given up on the festivities. He was stretched out and sleeping with his mouth open. It was time to take charge of the party. Notwithstanding the tired lot of people and the slow songs being played it was time to breathe some life into the party. Maybe that was when he he started singing. That memory evaded him. Thereafter it was a total blur.

The next thing he remembered was standing over the toilet bowl contemplating the just ejected contents of his stomach generously splattered all over his shoes –Koi Hamdam Na Raha- the song refused to go away. With a sigh he cleaned up as best as he could. The party was not yet over.....

Ruminations

My dear Achyut,

                   We wish you a very happy Vishu. The objective of doing this yesterday , on the day of the festival , was somewhat defeated , by your persistence in not responding to calls from me , Srinivas and Dr Narsing .  We are happy that you celebrated the festival well in spite of not being the recipient of the said good wishes . Sometimes I wonder why we want to be in communication with each other. On our part was it the desire to share the fact that we were having a good time and missed you?  Or was it simply the fact to tell you to suck it because you were missing something good ? Further analysis proved that it was indeed to  to torment you on your misplaced priorities.Jokes apart there was also the need to communicate with a good friend who has been the cornerstone of permanency in Hyderabad , with an ear to the ground, while the rest of us floated around the country/abroad looking for means of sustenance. 

                    Also the fact that time that is past can never be recreated but can only be imitated at a later point  in an effort to remember what you missed ,will only make it more poignant about the missed opportunities . Nevertheless suffice it to say that Narsing was a good host and I Tyaga and Srinivas enjoyed his hospitality to the fullest . Even after all these years, it is still a mystery to me why childhood and school are remembered with nostalgia. While at school I always wanted to grow up and 'do my own thing'. The oppression and the fears of childhood needed to be left behind. Not to mention the fuggy atmosphere of a classroom with its typical smell of 40 children sweating and farting away. 

                  As the evening progressed memories buried deep in the subconscious about the childhood past resurfaced -no doubt -helped by ingestion of that wonderful liquid that tends to loosen all inhibitions . Srinivas regaled us with anecdotes some of which were nice , others hilarious and some which bordered on being scandalous. A moment of solemnity intruded on an otherwise happy evening when we remembered those who kicked the bucket .

                  Memory is not what it used to be and we missed your valuable contributions to 'tales of the past ' to which we clung on so tenaciously in the hope to create the magic of the uncomplicated youth . Narsing had some stories of his own , while Tyaga and me were more in the role of good listeners . While the stories of the past did not run out , time did and we reluctantly took  ourselves from bar to  the dining table. Dinner was a no holds barred effort from Mrs Narsing . Unfortunately advancing age and poor appetite coupled with  the fear of waking up in the middle of the night with a heartburn prevented us from doing justice to this wonderful repast . Thus disappointing Mrs Narsing who was actively  looking into the logistical aspects of storage of the leftovers vis a vis feeding it to the local dog community who did a better job of security than the overpriced firm were actually in charge of guarding the gated community . The food fest being concluded we headed to the living room .

                  Achyut have you ever given a thought as to how people watching  a three hour movie  rush to the exit even as the movie is ending, as if they can't wait to get away ? The similarities were striking in our case also - for more than three hours we kept talking and numbing ourselves with booze (unending flow I must say ) and suddenly we were looking at the clock and remembering our deserted spouses and children/grandchildren . Reasons notwithstanding awkward goodbyes were said, with each one of us envisioning our beds and probably thinking thoughts that I cannot make you privy to on paper. Suffice it to say that we finally hit the road around  midnight . Srinivas was last spotted  at the suchitra crossroads bargaining with an auto rickshaw. Me and Tyaga moved further . Our biggest concern was how to get Tyaga home without the police discovering liquor on his  breath. The homecoming was silent and uneventful . I slept contentedly knowing that it was an evening well spent - the only regret being that you were not able to share this joy with us...

The Raising I

It was time again for the raising day. As the commanding officer it was his first and he did not want any problems or mix ups.He would never hear the end of it all his life if such was the case.

From the vantage point in his office he could see the youngsters scurrying around trying to make sense of the orders passed by him with regard to the raising day. As the days passed by he was getting more and more impatient with his officers.And as for himself - that sign behind his chair in the office was very clear - " The Buck Stops Here " it proclaimed. That and his pride prevented him from seeking any advice from anyone.At times he felt sorry for his officers – but then he steeled himself against such mundane emotions –“ how will they learn if I keep spoon feeding them ?” he thought. 

As was inevitable his mind went back to his days as a youngster – and in particular – that particular raising day when his newly  wedded  wife had just joined him. In line with the ongoing traditions he was paraded in the Sadar Bazaar yoked to a bullock cart in which his wife was sitting regally dressed in the finery whipped up by the ladies of the unit en route to Sadar. Inwardly he was cringing at the spectacle he was presenting – but outwardly he stuck gamely to the task at hand. The vehicle with the speakers leading the procession was belching noxious fumes into his face and to add insult to the injury the loudspeakers were blaring loud music. . The road side urchins were urging him on while the unit officers were trying to prolong the procession by tugging the cart backwards.

It was then that he decided that he would never marry again. After all these years he still stuck by this decision. His wife was the same as that day. Only now they had two strong and handsome boys to show for their years of labour... As the time passed by he remembered those days with fondness. Lot of work with no responsibility. He wondered how his  Commanding officer  at that time handled the pressure of those crazy veterans. They were always ready to offer advice. Most of it unsolicited. But very valuable all the same . He supposed that the CO had to exercise a lot of patience to listen to everyone and yet not retort in a heated manner. The general consensus was that the CO had a tough job...

Having given  the necessary orders he headed back home . His wife had left with he other ladies to “shop” for the raising day. His thoughts drifted to the past again....

The guests had started arriving two days in advance. The mess looked festive and cheerful. The waiters were running all round – hard pressed – to fulfill the demands of the guests. Some guests retired for the afternoon siesta and some others sat in the lawn luxuriating in the warmth of the afternoon sun. The unit officers were collared by the veterans and were minutely being questioned about their antecedents and precedents. Marital status of the junior officers was the question most asked that day. Additional interrogation of those unmarried was being done including their caste creed , colour and performance in the various army courses. Then the officer was tentatively asked about his plans for marriage. Those that were engaged or had plans to marry their sweethearts were soon ignored and the eligible bachelors were concentrated upon. 

As the evening drew to a close the veterans conversed with each other and slowly headed to the bar. “ These guys are indefatigable” he thought to himself and shuddered at the thought of completing the next two days. The forty eight hours seemed more difficult than an endurance march. Fortunately the CO had packed the next two days with a lot of events to keep the people busy. As the evening progressed he longed for solitude and his comfortable bed. His wife – under the present circumstances- held no appeal to him. Soon it was time to see off the last guest to his room. The CO was finally looking relaxed. The proceedings were finally underway. Of course it did not mean that he was so relieved  that he left without cautioning the officers against any SNAFUs and the dire consequences thereof...

As his wife came back from the market she was full of news of the other ladies and their children. How Mrs'--- son stood first in the class and how Col***’s son eloped – only to return home within a few days when he ran out of money.... She was faithfully relayed all the complaints and suggestions offered by the other ladies. He let her ramble on for some time before he gently prodded her into telling him as to what she spent on her outfit for the raising day . The figure she quoted took his breath away. As always he decided to take the path of least resistance by keeping mum and uncomplaining for what he thought was a frivolous expenditure. He kept his peace at home - but it looked like his officers were in for a torrid time; The urge to get away from the mundane gossip being spouted by his wife was strong upon him. He wondered how the previous Commanding officers coped with this aspect of the raising day celebrations. His mind went back to that particular raising day as he tuned out the incessant chatter of his wife....

The next day – he remembered – brought in more guests. The officers as well as the other ranks started coming in . Lots of unfamiliar faces – though none were unfriendly. He was the chief coordinator and it took all his skills and organisational capability to bring everyone to the right place at the right time . The pattern was the same all the days. Two people got together and started discussing a topic and then had to be shepherded for the next programme. Along the way he had to repeat his biography to a number of people  by rote  to the questions posed – where are you from- what does your dad do – Is your wife working – good to stay together  in the initial stages of marriage – money is not everything – how have you done on YO’s -  and the list went on endlessly. The faces started swimming in front of his eyes. Anyone with a suit and tie on were ‘sir’ some Junior commissioned officers gently corrected him – not overtly –but by repeating their name again for his benefit....

 His thoughts were suddenly wrenched into the present ; “ are my youngsters undergoing the same experience”? he wondered...

Funeral III - Change

 Day 6 - Immersion

The religious ceremonies were fast drawing to a close. The time to collect the ashes and immerse them in the river had come. The entire family opted to go for this religiously sanctioned outing. It gave everyone a reason to get out of the gloomy atmosphere of the premises where they had been incarcerated for the past five days. A trip to the nearest river took up the entire day. It also gave us all an opportunity to finally bid farewell to the  remains of the person in question. Of course as at every other place, there were touts who were ever ready to fleece us in this emotional state. The task at hand was completed. The feeling of relief was palpable. It also gave us an excuse to consume palatable food at a roadside Dhaba. We rationalized that Dhabas do not cater to our sentiments. The dishes quickly vanished from the table - It was a revelation to see how much each of us could consume. It was as if we had been starved for the past few days...Food does makea difference to the mood.We returned back to the house in an uplifted frame of mind. The prospect of spending the remaining four days with the family did not seem daunting at all.....

Day 7 - The 7 Minutes 

The affairs at home started limping back to normalcy. It is a recorded fact that the grief of passing of a loved one lasted precisely for 7 Minutes. Thereafter, how sad you felt depended on how miserable you wanted to be. I disagree with this cold assessment. A lifelong association and the memories involved – and the fact that these past moments never come back are enough to leave you grieving the past. The time had come to take comfort in each other’s presence and also speculate as to how the future would pan out with this life changing event ....The tranquillity associated with knowing that the stressful moments of someone’s passing were soon going to be a thing of the past also kept everyone in a equable frame of mind.

              Day 8 - Realization

Preparations were under way for the tenth day. The house was abuzz with muted excitement. Relatives and friends who were unable to attend the funeral now started coming in droves. Many wanted to stay over to help in preparation for the final day. Perhaps to assuage their guilt that they could not come for the funeral. There were others who came out of sheer curiosity to see whether we siblings had murdered each other over the past few days of forced incarceration. Then there were those few who genuinely came to condole the death of a loved one. They were the people whose life was affected in a positive manner by the deceased person. We also learnt about these new facets of our parent . Some of the stories were pretty moving and our hearts swelled with pride with the knowledge that our parent would always find a place in the heart of many people across the country. Religious ceremonies proceeded as per the norms.... 

Day 9 - Rationalisation 

Perhaps there was a reason for these long drawn rituals. One that I could discern immediately was, that finally, after all these years, the frequent visits to the cemetery for the rituals inured us to death. In an indirect fashion we stopped worrying about death. We learnt to rationalise that death is indeed a part of life. At some point in time we all have to ‘Kick the bucket’.

More important was the fact we learnt how to cope with each other. For a protracted period we had  not spent  time with each other – having been busy ‘settling down in life’. This enforced interaction since we were children helped us rediscover each other – again. Made us realise the importance of spending time together. See each other in a new light. All the bitterness and anger were a thing of the past.  We learnt to appreciate each other. No more pointless ego hassles. Our ancestors when they devised these rituals had had this in mind. I was convinced of this now. In a way the rituals helped us cope with what we lost and learned how to move ahead in life. We were all co-operating to complete the rituals like a well oiled machine. The past was forgotten along with the associated bitterness.

Costs were high. When it came to financial aspects there was no sympathy on part of the vendors. In fact the moment they knew that the ceremony pertained to the last rituals the prices (I suspect) were hiked up. The vendors knew that since it was an emotional matter we would pay without any haggling.

Day 10 - End Game

The day started early. Shivering in the morning we had a cold water bath. The hypnotic chanting of the Brahmins from the Vedas kept us awake – but in a somnolent state. Sitting on the floor for a protracted time was a real test of one’s inner strength. At some point of time we just gave in to the torture and conducted the rituals in a mechanical manner. Even while the conduct of the rituals was on, friends, well wishers and relatives started arriving. Out of the corner of my eye I could see them talking to each other. I was surprised that the talk was more about current day government, gossip about doings of the people who were not present and about anything and everything except about the person who had passed away. In fact I also heard someone criticising the caterer saying that the caterer we had hired used too much oil and his food was not all that tasty. As the day progressed the day’s proceedings slowly meandered to a closure. There was restlessness among the guests . I suppose that they were feeling the hunger pangs. “Good let them wait” I thought maliciously. In more ways than one, this gathering – while not the happiest one – was beneficial in that we picked up threads with people we had not met in a long time. It was then that it struck me that it was a good way to reconnect with others. The lunch was a solemn affair. Probably the impending eulogy of the dead was weighing heavily on everyone’s mind. Not many of us were skilled speakers and the need to dredge our memories to say good things about a person who was no more.... All in all the eulogy went off well. We as the offspring learnt a lot of things about the deceased parent. And it was all good.

My mind went back in time. I reminisced about the good and the bad times. Memories of my parents and by association,my siblings, which had faded with time - and been obliterated by the stresses of daily life and work - suddenly pushed themselves to the fore.  I realised that life had dealt a good hand to all of us. This realisation made me feel closer to them now than ever before. I like to think that this was the case with my brothers and sisters also.

The visitors gradually dispersed, after a hearty meal. Some thanked us and thereafter left – having nothing else to say – while others had some good things to say – still some others left offering us advice as to how it would be advantageous to us to stick together in these times of difficulty. This was irritating. But there was little we could do other than nod our heads sagely. At the end of the day – something we did not look forward to – we were drained of our energy.

Conclusion

The time to get back to our day to day life was at hand. These past few days were a time for rediscovering ourselves and our near and dear ones. We were finally secure in the knowledge that we were not alone and there was always someone there looking out for us and for each other. But then while time is a great healer it also dims our memories.....

Funeral II

           Day 1 - The Incarceration 

        The funeral left everyone exhausted and emotionally drained. We returned home to a sombre atmosphere. All rites as required were being followed religiously. Garuda Puran was being followed in letter and spirit. Even the children who were normally boisterous were quite and subdued. The latest addition to the family (one year old) was crying in subdued tones. For once the television was switched off. Lamp in remembrance of the dead one was regularly being replenished with oil. Bland food with no cooking oil and other necessary condiments was consumed without a complaint. Was this how it was going to be the next ten days?

        Day 2 - Ennui 

      Woke up fresh without a hangover. Relaxed in bed. Then suddenly remembered as to why I was here. Why we were all here. And that feeling of sadness settled in the stomach. Suddenly the realisation that the water supply was only for an hour hit me. Needed to get ready. Should use the bathroom before any one else ruined its pristine condition. Breakfast was again bland . Children were showing signs of restlessness. Parents were trying to impose the sadness of passing away on the children (“You should not play or make noise” – was the frequent refrain of the parents with solemn faces). Music was on full blast - Ustad Bismillah Khan Shehnai – why is Shehnai played only for weddings and funerals? – I thought. Free time read a novel. Is it appropriate to read a novel? Ceremonies were performed by the Pujaris. Stream of visitors condoling the death was still on. After the first “ I am so sorry about the Passing”, the silence stretched. “Will you have a cup of tea or coffee?” some people did not want to have coffee or tea . I could intuit that they were hesitant to consume a beverage in a house hold where there has been a death. For people who did not know how to respond, a cup of coffee or tea was thrust into the visitor’s hand. The hot beverage forced the visitors to prolong their visit. With little else to talk about, conversation usually drifted to the kids. ( “How tall he has grown – which class is he in”?- “what is he opting for”? Etc) After drinking the scalding tea at an impressive pace the visitors leave. The TV addicts among us are staring at the blank screen. Everyone is reluctant to take the initiative to switch on the TV. Today we had to remind each other to keep the lamp burning. By evening - with little else to do - everyone was tripping over each other. Fortunately we were still civil to each other. Resignation to eating tasteless food. We retired to bed early. Sleep eluded me. Maybe it is the withdrawal kicking in.

       Day3 - The Inheritance 

      The first thing I noticed was that the lamp had gone out. It did not seem important anymore for the lamp to continue burning. Anyway this was pointed out to all and sundry by everyone concerned. The lamp was relit and normalcy restored. The time to see who got what was at hand. The advocate arrived at the prescribed time. We all assembled in the drawing room. There was an air of expectancy. In all it was a disaster right from the start. Debts had piled up for the treatment. Property tax not paid for quite a few years. The hospital bills were yet to be cleared. The positive aspect was all assets were equally distributed. Therein started the bickering. “Who would clear the outstanding dues”? “Should the house be sold”?” And money distributed”? “Or should someone occupy it”?” Should it be given on rent”? Not all agreed on selling the house.

     The attention was thus diverted from the betrayal of the expectations from the dead to the stupidity of the living.

     The family was divided into two clear factions. Those for selling the house and those against. The discussion got very bitter. Past intransigencies of various stakeholders were dredged up. Soon everyone was pouring scorn on each other. By evening all were exhausted and had run out of abuses and curses. The period of silence started. I felt that it was a precursor to the more deadly battles coming up. In my view the silence was for us all to remember new insults to hurl at each other. The future looked bleak and gloomy.

       Day 4 - The Quarrel 

         There was a tussle as to who would keep the lamp burning. Remembrance of the dead was slowly losing steam.” It is not my job” was the frequent refrain. When the lamp was ultimately lit, the person who did it had a ‘Holier than Thou’ look on their face. Complaints about the tasteless food were growing more vociferous. The aftermath of the previous day’s manifested itself in quite a violent manner when a child was slapped resoundingly for disobeying his parent. Immediately there was an outcry of indignation. It opened the floodgates for everyone to comment on the methods of upbringing a child. While the parent was contrite about his impetuous action he could not let go of the slur on his character – “ I know best about my child; Who are you to tell me about my shortcomings?” – followed by criticism of how ill - behaved the other children were and how badly they were doing at school. Comparisons were made to a donkey and the child in question and the future of the other children. As the day passed the discussions got more and more heated. Finally zeroing in on the shortcomings of the parents themselves and their present station in life. Emotions ran high. One of the sisters-in law refused food. Of course it would definitely do her good not to eat for a day or two. The frayed tempers left everyone exhausted. The differences split the families  and no one was speaking to each other. There settled a pall of gloom over the house – more potent than when the person in question had passed away. People were not sad but seething with anger.

        Day 5 - Reconciliation ?

     The day dawned bright and beautiful. But not for this household. The previous day’s accusations and counter accusations  still rankled in everybody’s mind. Thankfully the children were unaware of these undercurrents of unhappiness. You cannot stop children from doing what they want for a single day – leave alone for ten long days. Day to day routine and the cold war threw up some really atrocious breakfast and lunch. The food was so bad that one could feel the universal rejection, even though no one spoke of it. Into this charged atmosphere walked this aged relative who was not liked .Her visit combined with insensitive remarks about our parent and the tasteless food finally made everyone realise that we had something in common. This precipitated in stilted conversation  between the 

various couples. Those who were deeply hurt or angry still kept quite. There was a certain lightness in the atmosphere. I felt relieved at this new development. We went to bed in a much better frame of mind.Who Knew how long this  this tenuous peace would last...