Those lovable ones

Those Lovable Ones

            During the 1950s and 1960s, we had quite a few Indian officers in the Armed Forces who had taken part in World War II alongside  British soldiers. . They were a happy-go-lucky lot, always cheerful and with a good repertoire of jokes. They were a class by themselves. They could talk about Kohat and the Burma Front which we had only read about. To them we were bachaas and had to learn a lot. This included their Commanding officers  too, who always had a soft corner for them.

            Sqn.Ldr. Brown, ‘Pop’ as we called him, was one of them. My first encounter with him was when I reported for duty on my first posting. He was the Adjutant. Even as I stood outside his door, about to enter, I could hear him shouting at almost every one interspersed with guffaws of laughter. The entire room seemed to reverberate when he laughed. A big made man with a ferocious moustache and a loud voice he could put the devil’s fear into anyone. I was told later that he was a good boxer in his younger days.

            'Pop' was very popular on the Station, not only because he was always helpful but we believed that he had sufficient “influence” with the CO. The reason for this could be that he would crack jokes with the CO which we dared not do. To the ladies, it was always, “Ask Pop” or “ Let Pop handle this” or “ What does Pop say ? “. He was the only one who could get things done for their meetings and social functions.

            One of the stories going around was the way he handled a Corporal charged with sleeping on duty. The Corporal was marched in by the Sergeant who read the lengthy charge of his grave neglect of duty.  Sqn.Ldr. Brown sat in his chair wearing his peak cap, listening carefully, all the while staring daggers at the Corporal. When the Sergeant finished reading the charge, Sqn.Ldr. Brown got up from his chair, removed his peak cap and kept it on the table. He walked up to the Corporal, held him by the collar and shouted,” You  bl***y man, next time I catch you sleeping, I will break every tooth in your mouth”.  He came back to his chair, put on his peak cap and pronounced the sentence,” One extra guard duty”.

            One incident which I  personally witnessed  was the way he handled a lengthy letter written by a newly posted Squadron Commander making a number of suggestions to improve the Station. Most of them were impossible to achieve with the limited resources available. The Squadron Commander had the reputation of being rather arrogant who considered himself the cat’s whiskers. I could see Pop’s agitation while reading it. He took a red pencil, drew two  large circles on the page, folded the letter carefully, placed it in the envelope sealed it and gave it to the chaprassi saying, “ Bolna, Pop saab bahut salaam diya”. Who could touch the CO’s favourite officer ?

            Pop taught me how to play billiards. His favourite drink was Rum. “ It is a good thing to be a teetotaler, my friend”, he told me once. “ But when bombs are exploding around you, remember,  one peg of Roger-Uncle-Mike will save you from becoming a nervous wreck”.

            Alas, we will not be seeing the likes of them any more.

 Out-of-Sync

        I read somewhere that Sir Alfred Nobel, the man behind the Nobel
prize, was a very lonely man in his later years. He would be seen
walking alone, with no one to keep him company. While I cannot claim
to be anywhere near him in brilliance or accomplishment, I am also a
loner like him. I cannot help thinking so when I see people avoiding
me. Some even change route the moment they see me walking towards
them. Some introspection is called for to find out the cause.
            One reason could be, I am not a cricket fan. A very serious drawback
indeed. Not that I was always like this. My heroes were Vijay
Merchant, Hazare, Mankad and the likes of them who played the game for
the love of it. The match fixing scandal put an end to all that. When
friends ask me excitedly, “What’s the score?”, I answer “ Who is
playing ? Where?”.  Now that is not being in sync with the rest. But
surely, this cannot be the only reason?
             Then, I cannot stand anything loud, be it music or conversation. A
party is arranged to meet friends. With the loud background music, you
have to shout rather than converse. I walk across to the person
fiddling with the knobs of the sound system and tell him to reduce the
volume. He does it, but increases it again the moment I am out of
sight. I give up, but my intentions are applauded.
            I am convinced that smoking and alcohol are the biggest enemies to
health. The warning on the cigarette pack says so. Newspaper articles
tell you to avoid them. Now, is it not my duty to spread awareness of
this?  In parties, I tell this to my friends at the bar. I never miss
an opportunity to barge into a group of smokers and warn them about
lung cancer. I am glad that my advice is well taken. After all I mean
well. So this too cannot be the reason for people avoiding me? .

            We all know that there is no substitute for experience. As a senior
citizen I can look at all things from a mature perspective. After all
age and wisdom go hand in hand. If the discussion is about politics, I
draw similarities with our great uncorrupted  freedom fighters. If it
is about movies, I tell them about the golden age of the film industry
where the hero hardly touched the heroine and true love was expressed
through dialogue and songs. In sartorial matters, I draw their
attention to the graceful sari which is now replaced by all those
scanty dresses. I am really glad that everyone agrees with me.  Yet,
why do people avoid me? I sought the opinion of my niece who is known
for her outspokenness.
            “Uncle”, she said after thinking for some time, “you have become a
cranky old man and a perpetual bore. Who wants your company?”.