Saturday, October 2, 2010

For a change someone decided to speak up for the soldier !

'Ek medal mila, Ma' -Prasenjit Mund,
"Going through hell... Keep going," said a desk graffiti in one of the classrooms at the National Defence Academy. I am sure it's still there, the etchings deepened by those that came later. Tired fingers trying to find solace in tradition, in the words of a nameless cadet, and the knowledge that those that came before sweated, bled, cried and triumphed the same way.

In many ways, these five words bring out the simple truth of the Indian soldier.

Of the man who left home as a boy, with his fears and insecurities, holding the pain of his lost love or pining for someone, holding dear everything that a teenager holds dear. Wanting to win the world, like every adolescent, but unsure where to start.

In the military academies they teach you to start with yourself. It's a painful process to tear off one skin and wear another but in the end the soldier comes out a better human being. The uniform stays with you for life, taking on all the grime, mud, blood and sweat - and pride - along the way.

Sadly, nowadays, it's the specks of mud that seem to make all the news. A fake encounter in Kashmir, a woman raped in the northeast, an officer arrested for spying, a frustrated jawan shooting his officers... In a society hungry for titillation, aberrations pass for the truth. Finally, some of us feel, finally, the great Indian soldier has been pulled down from his pedestal. Finally, we see him for what he is - a common man, no better or stronger or nobler than you or me.

Is it so? Nothing could be farther from the truth.

The only thing true here is that yes, the soldier is an ordinary man. An ordinary man who has made extraordinary sacrifices, shown courage above and beyond the call of duty, gone farther than he thought he could, and had the courage to stand up every time the call came to be counted.

How many of us can claim to have done that in our plush airconditioned offices, day after day?



A soldier's courage is tested not just when he is in an encounter or when called to rescue someone from floodwaters. He is put to test every single day. The prize for passing this daily performance review? Not a superlative raise or a six-digit performance incentive. He simply retains the honour of wearing his uniform for another day.



It takes extraordinary courage and pain to survive a single day of training in the academies or even the "routine life" in a regiment. A sacrifice that very few have the courage to make.

To have an idea of how tough it is to get into the olive green uniform, here is a simple equation. For the IIT-JEE - for many the be-all-and-end-all of entrance examinations - about 1.5 lakh candidates vie for 3,000 IIT seats. And for NDA, the same number competes for just 320 seats. Do the maths.

This is not to say that the NDA "rangruts" are brighter (heck, the really studious ones get plenty more front rolls and back rolls to bring them on the same level as the rest . It's just that they are one of a kind.

A very special kind who know, when they sign up at age 17-18, that they are binding themselves to a life of immense hardship, silent sacrifices, incompatible pay, separation from families - but the satisfaction that their spine will always be ramrod straight. Ordinary boys like Arun Khetrapal, Sandeep Unnikishnan, Manoj Pandey, Yogender Singh Yadav, Nirmaljit Singh Shaikhon and Vijayant Thapar who turned into legends. (Can't recognize most of the names? Tell you later.)

To give you an idea, one of them ran cross-country with a fractured leg - yes, a fractured leg - at the NDA just so he wouldn't let his squadron down. I refuse to believe that the boys who show such spirit, conviction and courage at such a young age would go about killing women and children. It is easier to believe that the sun goes around the earth.

These soldiers do not ask for any favours. Just some understanding. Every officer I know is almost embarrassed to talk about his "heroism". "It's no big deal," they say. That's what they signed up for. A Paramvir Chakra winner, for instance, went home to nurse half a dozen bullet wounds, told his mother "Ek medal mila, Ma," and forgot to mention that he had singlehandedly captured a Pakistani position. Her mother knew only when his village heard it on the radio and mobbed his hut.

Let us not make generalizations out of aberrations. The Indian soldier comes from a family like yours and mine. He is a part of society and is subject to the same pulls and pressures. Inflation pinches him, he has his own domestic problems, has elderly parents to look after, and is worried about the education of his child. He has his own insecurities and worries. And like every segment of society, there are a few rotten apples. There is no denying that. But just ask yourself how many such cases have you a heard of in the last decade? A handful? Out of the millions who donned the uniform in this time.

The dirty ones are hauled up and thrown out faster than you pick a fly out of your soup. Justice in the forces is swift, certain and ruthless. Armchair judgments, they don't need.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Thank you Jose Brasa

On behalf of my one billion countrymen , thank you, Jose Brasa. You have brought back the charm and grace of what the world used to know as Indian hockey.

I did'nt care whether India won or lost the 2010 World Cup, though I am sure others, including you, did. To me, you have reinstated the fluidity,the artistry, the magic, the breathtaking but judicious use of skills, that we witnessed in years gone by, that left the rest of the world awestruck.

Despite the dominance of the Australians, the Dutch and the Germans, there is still evidence from all quarters around us, both young and old, that the world is excited and enthralled by the play of the Indians, akin to the Brazilians in soccer.

Thank you, Coach Brasa, for reminding the current Indian hockey players of the ancient ancestral skills - that you finish off a move after you have dribbled past 2 consecutive players, with an exquisite pass. Or that you stop using long, unstoppable hard hits to advance the ball. Or that using teamwork and slick passing you can achieve the same, if not a better result, than dribbling through players.

Thank you, Coach Brasa, for looking after the players like your own children, always fighting for them, against an ignorant and self-serving Indian hockey establishment. Thank you for looking after their nutritional and fitness requirements, for teaching them to think for themselves, and to express themselves both on and off the field.

You have done a service for these poor souls who are artisans of a dying art form (dribbling, swerving, stickwork), the result of years of labor, who toil selflessly for few rewards and a meagre livelihood. Hockey players are among the most unassuming athletes on this planet.

Thank you, Coach Brasa, for teaching the Indian players that only making moves and exhibiting exhilarating skills is not sufficient; one also needs to defend, pass, and use tactics and strategy. Thank you for having the guts to bring in a new culture in Indian Hockey, with concepts like all round players, use of man-to-man marking, and not behaving like prima donnas on the field.

Also further thanks are due to you for blending the European style of play with the Indian skillful play, and making believers of skeptical Indian players who could not believe that they had it in them to do anything European or "defensive" or "body play" (as it is called locally).

Hopefully you have shown the way for other Indian coaches to widen their horizons and to train their teams on playing scientific hockey, and have shown the current set of players that they need to dissipate the knowledge gleaned from their coach to other players.

But above all, I want to thank you personally from the bottom of my heart, for giving me a chance to watch our current team, a team which is different from the others we have witnessed in the recent past. The present Indian team plays modern, pleasing hockey as it should be played, showcasing skills, fluidity and understanding. They may not bring the desired results, but they are sure pleasing to watch and do entertain.

I do not know what is in store for you and your Indian team in the Commonwealth games, but in my eyes, you have already achieved the impossible - you have given us legions of Indian hockey fans the world over, hope for the future. We shall remain eternally grateful.

Thank you Jose Brasa