The Dental Woes, published in The Tribune on 01 April 2024

 

    This article I wrote after coming back from the USA. It was published in The Tribune on 01 April 2024. It was a personal experience of dental treatment of my daughter Kirandeep and the ordeal of my NRI friend Amarjit Singh Dhaliwal (Papoo) from my village Kandhala Jattan. The way Papoo narrated the incident, it was hilarious. On that day I decided that I shall write about it. What I forwarded to The Tribune is as under :-

The Dental Pains 

'Some tortures are physical, And some are mental, But the one that is both is Dental’, so said Ogden Nash. God forbid if you are abroad in the USA or European Country and you may have to undertake dental treatment. It will definitely punch a hole in your pocket and upset your budget for the next few months.

I recently visited the USA to be with my daughter. She had severe dental pain and it involved more than one tooth.  She had overlooked this for quite some time but I was quite concerned to see her inability to chew hard food. On my insistence, she visited a dentist who should be able to treat her under the available insurance plan.

She came home and looked quite exasperated. She said that her bill for dental treatment under her medical plan would turn out to be $12,000. I was shocked. Within this amount, she could fly to and fro India in Business Class, get her treatment done, and still save half the amount. No wonder, for most NRIs who visit India, dental treatment is usually on their cards.

A friend of mine, from school days, who had migrated to the USA, narrated his woeful but amusing tale of dental treatment abroad.  The filling of his molar had worn off and he was unable to bear the pain. He had no option but to visit the dentist. As he could only converse in rudimentary English, he took along somebody who could explain his problem to the dentist.

The dentist, who happened to be an East Asian immigrant, was told about my friend's English handicap. As he settled in the patient’s recliner and the doctor examined his teeth, the dentist asked him what he wanted. With the dentist’s examining tools still in his mouth, my friend said, “Fill”. Now the doctor, as per his knowledge of English and its accent, took it for ‘Pull’. He sought confirmation from the patient and asked, “Pull?” to which my friend nodded yes.  He quickly administered the local anesthesia to the patient and proceeded with the ‘treatment’.

After the job was done, the patient was devastated to find a gaping hole instead of an aching tooth. He started arguing with the doctor in half Punjabi and half English. Fast forward to post-operation chaos: my friend, now one tooth lighter, was fuming in a mix of broken English and sheer disbelief. His trusty sidekick rushed in, only to realize that this whole debacle was just a 'Fill' vs. 'Pull' comedy of errors. Minus one tooth, my friend vowed never to seek dental treatment abroad.

The actual article as published in the newspaper can be viewed by clicking on this link The Tribune Article    

My Own Kashmir Files Published in The Tribune on 26 Mar 2022

 

My Kashmir Files

                                           

            The recent movie Kashmir Files has brought back memories of the autumn of 1989 in Kasmir. The winter was setting in, but the political tempo in the valley was at an all-time high. Frequent strikes were leading to the blockade of roads, and anti-Indian crescendo was in the air. Army convoys were also subjected to protests by frenzied crowds. Major roads of the valley were dotted with anti-Indian slogans, anti-Army slogans, and even Pakistani Flags. The army was on wait and watch. Orders were to avoid getting into any kind of skirmishes with the protesters.

We were located near Kupwara in Kashmir. Our unit was co-located with a village where a few houses were just about hugging the boundary wall of our unit. Our unit ammunition magazine was located about three kilometers away due to the paucity of accommodation. Another village (W) was located en route to the location of the ammunition magazine. The boys guarding the ammunition were supplied rations and meals from our unit through patrolling.

The village adjoining our unit had about four to five houses of Hindus. One house of a Hindu family was next to our guard post where our soldiers were on duty day and night. Our CO on morning PT or evening stroll would often interact with locals and Hindu Families residing in the village. The locals would assure us that no harm would come to their Hindu brothers. However, Hindu families were guarded in their approach and often avoided coming into contact with Army personnel. One could guess that they did not want to be seen as some kind of informers working for the army. None of them talked about leaving their homes.

The village W also had about four to five Hindu families. Whenever I visited the ammunition magazine, I interacted with them and other locals of that village.  One particular Hindu family was rather affluent and had a much bigger house with good amenities. They were quite well-read folks. I used to assure them of the full support of the Army, not to leave their houses, and let us know if anybody threatened them.  They would nod in agreement, but one could sense their helplessness. We were not there with them all the time. In fact, the Hindu family heads would avoid being seen with army personnel and even told us not to visit them lest they be targeted by militants.

As the situation in the valley started deteriorating, the trucks carrying Hindu families with household luggage became a frequent sight on roads. The families from the village, neighbouring our unit, moved out in almost complete secrecy, and our guard did not get the wind off it. The complete guard faced the wrath of our CO.   

Later on, Subedar Majors of the units, located in the valley, were sent out to Hindu migrant camps, under central arrangements,  to contact the Hindu families of their area of responsibility. The aim was to motivate them to get back or at least point out the people who had threatened them to leave. No one volunteered to come back.

On my next visit to the W village, I found that all the Hindu families of the village had left. Out of curiosity, I went to that affluent family’s house. It was deserted. I found almost all the doors, windows, and even sanitary and electric fixtures removed.  The household items were gone, and a few broken pots were lying scattered. A book was lying on the floor;  quite ironically it was titled, ‘Scoundrels and Scalawags’. 

The above article was published in The Tribune on 26 Mar 2022 under the heading 'Reopening the Kashmiri Wounds'. It can be viewed on internet by clicking the link below :-

https://www.tribuneindia.com/news/musings/reopening-the-kashmiri-wounds-380780

For how Long One Must Suffer

                                                         

        

            I wrote the following article when after having made numerous visits to see Lt Col Karanbir Singh Natt, lying in coma at Military Hospital, Jalandhar. As he continued in the vegetative state, the hopes of the family and well wishers faded. He ultimately died on 23 December 2023. 

                                                            No Easy Answers

         He lies in bed, eyes flutter, at times half shut, asleep / awake without caring about day or night. Every time I go to look up him I hope and pray to hear about some progress in him towards signs of improvement towards recovery but these have alluded so far. The improvement is negligible.

I first met Captain Karanbir Singh Natt during Operation Prakaram while we were deployed at Gurdaspur border. He was with his platoon of BRDMs (kind of armoured cars with anti tank missiles).  He was full of josh and raring to go for the tasks across the border. He often volunteered to with forward most troops and reccee the areas across. As things cooled down we all withdrew to our respective peacetime locations.  We lost touch thereafter.

It was in 2018 when I was posted in Jalandhar that I heard about him being brought to Military Hospital. I immediately remembered our days of deployment at Gurdaspur Border and went to look him up. It was simply devastating to see him lying in state of coma. I was told that after leaving army he joined the Territorial Army and was injured during an encounter with terrorists in Kashmir Valley in 2015. As he was grievously injured in his jaw the medical complication resulted in cut off of oxygen to his brain for a brief period, leading to his being in the state of coma post life saving surgery.

Despite special care and treatment carried in consultation with reputed doctors there has been no improvement. His father (a veteran himself), mother and wife hinge their hopes on the day when he wakes up from that deep sleep / coma. The family has tried all sorts of therapies and  hasn’t left any stone unturned. All kind of treatments to include, Ayurveda, Homeopathy , besides Allopathic, have yielded no results.

 I have often seen the quote in various hospitals, “I treat He cures”. Faith takes on where there are no answers found in medical science. It has been nearly seven years ; the prayers of the family , which also includes his two young daughters , have not been answered yet. How long?  When will the miracle happen? That also leads to another question as to why the family has been subjected to such long suffering. I marvel at their fortitude and their staidness. I have read the book ‘Does He know a mother’s heart : How suffering refutes religions’ by Arun Shourie where he has tried to find answers from various religions as to why Good people are are made to suffer. Simply blaming it to previous birth doesn’t stand to logic. He has not found any worthwhile answer.  Famous writer Khushwant Singh also tried looking into the same answer he could not find it. But, where does a simple man seek refuge under such calamity? Remembering God and asking for His benevolence to bless the sufferer by answering his prayers. But for how long should one wait? We often say the God is taking the  test of your patience,  but how long should it continue? There are no answers. If someone has it please shoot.

Meanwhile walk up to the Karanbir’s family to share a word of compassion, hope, empathy and of course prayer to the Almighty. 

The article was published in The Tribune on 01 Nov 2021, under the heading 'For How Long One Must Suffer' and can be viewed by clicking on the link below :-

https://www.tribuneindia.com/news/musings/for-how-long-one-must-suffer-332562

Don't Pluck the Flowers

                                           DON’T PLUCK THE FLOWERS

 

              Just saw a tweet from somebody who is fed up with the theft of flowers, grown by him in pots, by strangers, for use in ‘Puja’. I fully empathise with him.  I have often got on the wrong side of people while forbidding them to ‘steal’ flowers from public places and our flower beds along the boundary wall of my home.

              My house is facing a park. There are many Yellow Kaner (Oleander) trees that keep blooming almost throughout the year. Every morning I keep seeing a few men and women plucking the flowers. I can’t help walking up to them and confronting them.  On questioning them I get the reply, “Puja ke Liye”. I confront them by saying, “Why can’t you pick up fresh flowers that have already fallen on the ground? Why to pluck those that have just bloomed?” They get annoyed as if I have committed a serious act of blasphemy. “How can you say that? How can the ‘fallen’ flowers be offered to Bhagwan?”, they retort. “But those on the trees are also grown by the will of same Bhagwan.”   I argue back. But of no avail. They carry on plucking flowers, without any sense of guilt or remorse, till a small polythene bag is full. I persist, “Will your Bhagwan be happy to receive these stolen flowers (Chori ke phool).” They have no answer. Some of them argue back by saying that it is a public place and trees do not belong to ‘me’.  I point out to a board displaying ‘Do not pluck flowers’ written in English as well as in Punjabi. They just give an indifferent look and shamelessly move on. My advice to them, to grow their own flowers and then pluck, finds no takers.  I stand helplessly.

              It is often embarrassing to see people known to you getting caught stealing flowers from your flower beds. But I can’t help walking up to them and saying,” Flowers look best on plants”. They carry on with a silly smile. Having a rudimentary knowledge of Bhagwad Gita I often sermonise these ‘thieves’ by quoting Shalok 26 of Chapter 9 where Bhagwan Shri Krishna says that a devotee can offer him fruit or flower or even a leaf or water,  but with devotion. Meaning thereby that He is not pleased by materialistic things. What matters is devotion. Buddha has said, “When you like a flower, you just pluck it. But when you love a flower, you water it daily”.

              My sincere request to ‘flower thieves’. Please have mercy on the flowers that are beautiful creations of God. Don’t try to please Him by destroying His creation. Will someone listen?   

    I wrote the article when I caught few people stealing flowers from the flower beds around our house. The article was published in The Tribune newspaper under the heading, 'Let Them Bloom' on  on 14 April 2021. Here is the link to view it on internet :- https://www.tribuneindia.com/news/musings/let-them-bloom-where-they-belong-238840

'A Mother's Heart' published in The Tribune on 08 October 2020

             This article was written by me when my son was deployed somewhere close to Karakoram Pass in the DBO sector in Ladakh. He was posted in the Ladakh Sector. After the Galwan incident, where 20 soldiers of the Indian Army were killed, he had to rush to that area with a company strength of Ladakhi soldiers. For days, there was no communication from him. Occasionally he would call and then go off for days. The days were full of uncertainties with no news coming out from that area.                

                                                A Mothers Heart

 

 

She is not able to sleep. It has been five days since her son spoke to her for a brief two minutes. It was a long-distance call put through by an army exchange operator.  Before her instructions to her son could finish the call was abruptly cut. It has been like that since her son got deployed on Chinese border, known as LAC, since mid-June. The calls were erratic and very brief, mostly at the mercy of the army exchange operator. Gone are the days when she could pour her heart to her only son through mobile phone calls and give him all possible instructions mostly aiming at his well-being, safety & security, eating timely and of course her favourite topic of making up his mind to get married.

The son, like a true fauji, does not talk about “what is happening there”? She tries to gather information from TV Channels and social media but seeing the shoddy display of jingoism, war cries, and saber-rattling by TV Anchors shuts it off cursing them that maybe none of their near and dear ones is in the army and deployed on the border. Her husband advises her not to watch TV and not to believe what appears on Facebook and WhatsApp messages. Any news about ‘Meeting’ on the border with the Chinese is keenly read, watched, and heard by her. “Their mothers must be equally worried’, she muses about enemy troops.

She had been an army wife and suffered long separations from her husband in her prime age. Those days mobile phones did not exist and letters were the only means of communication. By the time the letter could reach her husband and elicit a reply, a lot would get changed. Some minor problems could get mitigated or she could overcome singlehandedly. In the absence of her husband, she miraculously played the double role of father and mother for her kids and brought them up. Quite naturally she and her husband did not want their son to join the army and suffer long separations from his family. But fate decided otherwise. The son won’t listen and he too followed his father’s and forefathers' footsteps (fourth generation now); went to the Indian Military Academy and chose to join their (her husband’s) battalion. Though felt proud of her son’s achievement, she cannot help being over-worried about her son’s well-being, more since his deployment in the forward area. Her husband at times feels irritated and tells her that she wasn’t even half as much worried about him as she worries about her son. She tells him that he does not know about a mother's heart.

Her son is deployed at a place where civil phones do not work. He has given a civil number of his unit Adjutant, that is away from his location,  to be used in exceptional cases. She insists on using that number but the old man is reluctant. He doesn’t want to ‘interfere’ with unit routine and also does not want to sound ‘too worried’. “It is warlike”, he tells her, “Leave it to God. Everything will be fine”. He assures her but she insists. Seeing her restlessness, he gives in. Almost apologetically, he calls the unit Adjutant and asks for well well-being of his son. The officer replies assuring them that all is well, their son is absolutely fine, there is nothing to worry and they can call him anytime. Profusely thanking the husband disconnects the call. Mother hears everything, feels happy, thanks God, and appears calmer and satisfied. “I can now go to sleep peacefully”, she says. 

The article was published in The Tribune on 08 October 2020 and can be read on internet by clicking here

Where Are Their Heros Published on 10 Dec 2019

                                                          Heros of IAS

        I was director of Army Welfare Education Society and attended the yearly Principals' meeting at Dehradun. They organized a trip to Lal Bahadur Shastri National Academy of Administration (LBSNAA), where candidates selected through the Indian Administration Services (IAS) Examination are trained. A month after that visit, I wrote this article. 

                                                      Where are the Heroes

               I was part of a group of Principals and Directors of Army Public Schools who visited Lal Bahadur Shastri National Academy of Administration (LBSNAA), Mussori,  earlier this month. It was eagerly looked up visit and we expected a lot to see on this institution of National Importance which trained our policymakers, based on whose guidance destiny of India has shaped over the period of time.

              We were conducted around the main campus by a ‘Guide’, who, as we found later, worked as LDC in the Academy. We were briefed about the campus, layout, various buildings a place called museum which had black and white photographs of IAS trainees interacting with Prime Ministers and Presidents, batches that passed out and that of activities in the institute.  Later a Retired Army Officer, posted as Deputy Director briefed us on the organization, training, and activities in Academy. A short movie was also screened on the Academy.

              However, we did not see any photos or paintings of ‘Heroes’ of the alumni of the Academy who did proud to their Alma Mater,  on display anywhere in the Academy that we saw. Few buildings are named after leading politicians. A memorial stood in one of the lawns without any names of martyrs who died in the line of duty. It is not that the IAS cadre is bereft of heroes. Almost a month back The Tribune carried a writeup on Dr B N Yugandhar who, as I see, was an ideal bureaucrat and an example to emulate. His pencil sketch was there among ex Directors of the Academy.  Of course there are many names like Dr TN Seshan, Dr MS Randhawa (ICS), Dr MS Gill, Vinod Rai, Ashok Khemka, Shanmugam Mamjunath (a young IAS Officer who was killed by oil mafia) and many more who stood up to dictates of politicians and upheld the rule of law. What could be a better motivation to a trainee than look up to the heroes of his fraternity who once walked in the corridors of this prestigious academy?    

        However, the next day a visit to Indian Military Academy was a complete contrast. The IMA memorial, Museum (glittering with painting of war heroes), Cadet Messes, Lawns, buildings and of course Drill Ground cast a spell on the visitors.

        The question arises; as to why IAS officers who have done pioneer work in number of fields are not looked up or known as Heroes? Do they want to remain in the background and let politicians take the credit or they get branded or get typified as ‘Congress Type’ or ‘BJP Type’; not allowed to be touted as Heroes. Someone has to answer, ‘Why there are no Heroes on display at LBSNAA?’ 

This article was published in The Tribune on 10 December 2019 and can be viewed by clicking here 

Suferers of The Valley, Published in The Tribune on 07 Oct 2019

                                       Aam Kashmiri, Soldier Keep Suffering

 The removal of Article 370 has brought Kashmir into focus in a big way. While the official narrative is focused around ending the problems of Kashmiri people and integrating them with mainstream India, the other side is harping about the end of the special status and security clampdown along with restrictions on communication.

 

                                   

PS Randhawa

The removal of Article 370 has brought Kashmir into focus in a big way. While the official narrative is focused around ending the problems of Kashmiri people and integrating them with mainstream India, the other side is harping about the end of the special status and security clampdown along with restrictions on communication. 

                        Having served in Kashmir on a number of occasions, starting from 1989, I can say that to date — since the beginning of insurgency — only two kinds of people (besides Kashmiri Pandits who fled) have suffered in Kashmir. One is the common man and the other is the soldier — from all uniformed forces. 

    There is abject poverty in remote areas of the Valley. The only job available there is of a porter, for taking rations to Army posts located at higher altitudes. That job only lasts for a limited period. The common man has very small landholdings. Those in towns are mostly dependent on tourism-related jobs that last for about six months. Insurgency has severely affected the common man. Frequent calls of shutdown have hit the small businessman, shopkeeper and daily-wage earner. He has to join protests lest he is seen as a ‘traitor’ to the cause. Studies of his children have suffered. His children, brainwashed by wily politicians, turn militants and get killed in the bargain. It is not so-called ‘azadi’ that is his biggest problem, it is to earn his living, somehow. While politicians of all hues from the Valley have prospered, he is the one who has suffered the most. His suffering continues. 

    Next is the soldier. There were days when posting to the Valley was much sought-after. It is no more so.  Soldiers are performing duties under severely stressful conditions. One is never sure from which direction a bullet or a stone is going to hit him. Travelling on foot or in a vehicle is equally dangerous. He doesn’t know whether he will safely return to the barracks at the end of the day. He, at times, has to skip meals, rest and sleep. He is out of communication with his kin for days. There are times he doesn’t get leave due to many compelling reasons. His folks at home live on the edge, with prayers on their lips till he returns from Kashmir. They are apprehensive to pick up the phone lest they get some bad news about him. Besides getting killed in the line of duty, a number of soldiers have lost their limbs and fallen prey to post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). He has sacrificed the most. 

    For the rest of the lot, nothing much has mattered. The business of politics has prospered. Other business continues as usual with interruptions. One can only hope and pray that peace returns to the Valley, and the common man and soldier, both enjoy a peaceful life they deserve.

 

Published on 07 Oct 2019 in The Tribune