Sam Manekshaw: An Obituary

Field Marshal Sam Manekshaw is no more.

Even though I never knew him nor met him I feel sad. While growing up, reading about him in papers and hearing stories about him from elders, had made him synonymous with bravery and courage. He personified all those qualities that a small kid should look up to. He was a part of my childhood, a part of my life.

A few years before I joined my junior college he had addressed our annual function. My teacher once told the class about it:

"After his speech, a girl looked the Field Marshal straight in the eye and asked," Field Marshal, on one hand the army allows boys to go into combat but denies us girls the same honor. If the army is the best way to serve the nation, what can we girls do to get in?"

Pointing at the army men who accompanied him, the Field Marshal quipped, "Marry us."

The auditorium rang with laughter and cheers. Most of those cheering were girls. They cheered because far from being sexist, the Field Marshal was merely underlining the tremendous role played by army wives in our country's defense.”

When Nehru ordered him to command the retreating Indian forces in the disastrous 1962 Indo-China war, his first order was the by now legendary, "There will be no withdrawal without written orders and these orders shall never be issued." Galvanised, the army stopped the Chinese advance.

Another story goes something like this: The 1972 war was planned so well that to avoid excesses by the Indian army, the General used the one weapon that never fails: humor. When the first Indian soldiers entered Bangladesh, they encountered sign-posts put up by their General on the border. The sign posts said: “Hands in your pockets, boys. You are entering Pakistani territory. Indian girls are much prettier.” Not a single Bangladeshi girl was touched by the Indian forces during the campaign.

Anecdotes like these abound about independent India’s second Field Marshal who was lovingly named ‘Sam Bahadur’ by the Gorkha regiment he commanded. I am not going to write a conclusion to this piece because if you are an Indian, you must find more about men like Sam Bahadur. I am starting you off with these links to articles from people who were fortunate enough to know him better:
http://www.rediff.com/news/2003/apr/03sam1.htm
http://www.rediff.com/news/2003/apr/03sam.htm
http://www.rediff.com/news/2003/apr/04sam.htm

never at a discount rate- first draft

never at a discount rate.....
never at a discount rate,
when water flows in the creek,
never at a discount rate.

When the wind howls in the trees,
when the meditation smoothes every crease,
smile and laugh, howl and gauwf,
But never at a discount rate.

As irritation peaks in every cell,
Anger rings; and then shatters every bell.
Take a step back, ponder. For anger
Never hurts at a discount rate.

Meditate a little while everyday,
Boredom and anger will fall away,
The bliss of happinees comes and
the best part is
its always at a discount rate.

When sadness creeps in and the tears come,
when fear gnaws, get up and learn
compose a poem just like this calling it,
"Never at a discount rate"

An invitation for a wonderful evening

Hi guys.

I came across this fantastic charity concert of western classical instrumental music taking place at Fine Arts Centre, Chembur on the 26th of December at 7 pm.

[Now, before you hit delete on seeing ‘western classical instrumental music’, just visit this amazing site on the internet and see how much Western Classical music is unknowingly listened to by us. Even "yeh hain bombay meri jaan" is probably inspired. www.itwofs.com.
The list of inspired merchants stretches right from OP Nayyar, Laxmikant pyarelal, Shankar Jaikishen to Anu Malik, A R Rehman and RD Burman.]

So, here's a chance to actually listen to international music unadulterated. ..the way those great original composers actually meant their music to sound. And, instead of happening in far away South Mumbai , its happening in the suburbs, a stone throw away from Chembur railway station.

The fantastic Dutch trio of Mireille Heijltjes [Piano], Lisanne Soeterbroek [violin] and Stephanie Steiner [Viola] will also be talking about the history of western classical music. And if two hours spent with refreshing music isn't reason enough, then think about this conversation which you could be having a month later with that girl in your college/school/office:

Girl: "Did you hear the new remix by DJ Insane?”
You: “Sure I did…its inspired by Beethoven's 3rd symphony, isn’t it?” [pheko bandhu pheko! ]
Girl: “ Beethoven? Wow! I didn’t know you were into international music?” [girl is impressed]
You: “Oh I go to concerts and stuff. Went to one in Chembur on the 26th actually…a few symphonies here and there “
Girl: “What exactly is this ‘Beethoven’?” [girl's got upgraded to impressed++]
You: [Casually] “Well, it’s not that easy to explain here in the lobby. I am on my way to get some coffee in the canteen, why don’t you come along?”
Girl:”Sure.”
[ Success! Congratulations! You just got your first date.]

[Warning: This may not work if the girl has also attended the concert. So, girls, isn’t it in your best interests to attend this wonderful event?]

To get Donor Passes for the event, call me up on 9870281885 or send a scrap on Orkut. All proceeds collected through the concert will be donated to WAYE and The Art Of Living.

Hoping you have a fantastic musical evening on the 26th.

Take care,
ishan

P.S: Anyone who can pronounce the names of the three female musicians correctly the first time gets a free pass. :D:D:DAlso, please pass on this message to anyone who you think might be interested in attending.

Enlightment!!!

Buddha got his under the bodhi tree, Kekule got his while dreaming, Archimedes got his while in the bath. I got mine sitting in the second class compartment of the Kalyan Slow at 5:48 a.m.
Its gives you happiness that shines through you...its the fulfillment of so many unsuccessful and so many aborted attempts.
Like I have said in one of my other blogs, giving advice is the most tiring/exhausting thing, if you have a conscience. Cause that conscience remembers every advice you gave, every suggestion you made and when you face a similar situation, a similar problem it comes back to bite you in the butt. If you don't follow your own advice, it hurts. Hurts like anything.
One such advice has been my love for the city I live in. I hate it when people spit. I hate it when they throw plastic wrappers outside their trains, their cars, their buses in their own city. I had talked about telling these people to stop it. Well, you might have guessed it. Going up to unknown people and indirectly telling them to stop being jerks is easier said than done.
I was scared. Shit scared. And depressed, that I had advised something which I myself never achieved successfully.
Then, it happened…
I was sitting reading a newspaper and across me sat two gentlemen who were discussing politics. One of them was emptying his wallet of extra and useless bits of paper. He was talking and tearing those bits into smaller and smaller pieces of paper. While he was enjoying his discussion, I was sitting there, tensed cause of what I knew was going to happen next. Ten more bits of paper were about to get added to the garbage in the drains of Mumbai.
And true to habit, out went the hand towards the window. But this time, another hand also swept out. Not to slap, comment or hurt. Rather to take those bits of paper and place that garbage in his pocket. Not in that person’s pocket. Rather in its own.
I talk about it as if I was observing it because that’s what it felt like. It happened without thinking. It happened instinctively. And like all instinctive actions, I was terrified of what would happen next.
The gent continued tearing new pieces of paper. I was still scared but knew in my mind that my choices were limited. Ideally, I shouldn’t have been scared. But, I was. Looking at my newspaper with my attention focused on what that complete stranger would do with those bits of paper. His friend asked me to lend my paper to him, which I did. And we talked about Sachin’s innings. I blabbered a little still focusing on the future of those bits of paper. My station came and I got up. I took my paper but couldn’t resist saying, “bhau, nako.” (Brother, don’t). He looked at me and said, “Samajla.” (Understood.”)
I walked out.
“I appreciate your courage. I, too, need such courage. In this cause, even I am willing to die. But, my friends, there is no cause in which I am willing to kill. Even this method of fighting hurts. Like all fighting does.
But here, we don’t give blows. Rather we take them and through our hurt we help the enemy understand his folly.”
--M. K. Gandhi.