THE SUMMER

The Summers are here again. Peak summer has its own charm and Bryan Adams had immortalized the "Summer of 69"  in his epic song. Summers provide an excellent opportunity to shed the baggage of various kinds. On 29 May , New Delhi sizzled at 46 Degrees. The peak load was its top and soon enough the big transformer powering up the Colony bursted into massive flames. The power factor requirements had made the big transformer imbalanced and its flames sent the entire mechanism into a tail spin. The machines stopped moving and soon enough the sweat toiled bodies were out into the open with various forms of hand held fans.
                 

Back in school days, I was brought up in a small town- Rohtak. The town used to become a dust bowl during summers as the peak heat would kick up black dust storms at regular intervals. The houses of yonder were not as beefed up as they are today and it used to be a herculean exercise for the women folk to remove the dust from these open structures after the dust storm had battered the town. It was a common practice for us children to wear the traditional "Kurta - Pyjamas" made of a coarse material. Even the elders used to wear the thick material clothes as India was still struggling as a nation. This attire had many advantages and the best part was that an initial bout of sweat used to be absorbed by the cloth and then it used to maintain the body temperatures. No mosquito could penetrate this cloth's armor and greenery all around was always maintained well.

                 

 Those days we used to sleep in the open in the backyard of our houses or on the rooftops. A few buckets of water from the hand pumps used to be sprayed on the floor and then the folding beds would be laid with a "Dari" (a thin mattress without cotton) and a bed-sheet. It was a frugal arrangement which regularly gets highlighted in the Newspapers of today as influential people have started visiting Tihar. The temperatures used to start falling down as the night progressed. The tales by grandparents would enthrall us. The moon would soon be on top during its outings and one could gaze into its cold light. This light had a soothing effect on the eyes and the grand parents would say that this light is healthy for the eyes ( a 6/6 at 40+ and with endless use of screened gadgets does prove this saying!!). On moonless nights, we would gaze at countless stars and galaxies. Occasional streaking stars would make us seek secret wishes (most were for a 5 Star bar and not the Bar of today!!). As the night would engulf and temperatures dipped, the comfortable sleep would engulf us. The dog would curl under the folding bed and grunt occasionally to ward off the creatures of the night. The big Neem tree in front of the house would fill its aroma as the Sun would break out and everyone would get up afresh. A solitary rotating fan would lead the charge against the heat and the summer night would pass away peacefully.

               

The Country has since then moved on. The dust storms have reduced in my home town as more and more concrete has captured the swathes of land. No more does the sky turn black and in any case the houses are fortified and one door can shut out the entire house from the barrage of dust and dirt. These days, most of us wear shorts and vests whilst sleeping. The Air Conditioners pump out cool air all day long and we continue to move from one AC to the other. The mosquitoes have taken deadly avatars and are no more the silent victims of Quinine. They fight out the best of the chemicals and in turn leave us with dangerous variants of diseases like Dengue, Malaria and Chickengunya. The deadly chemicals turn out to be equally deadly for us too and nebulisation is a common tool for our children. Most of us find it difficult to hold our noses anytime a bit of irritant crosses our nostrils. However , we need more and more comforts as we are changing and dumping out tons of garbage.

               

This Country is moving and its population is swallowing miles to move into cities. We are gasping for infrastructure. A Colony like ours was conceptualized in early 70s and the concept was overrun in early 90s itself. We are struggling each day on thin resources and are not willing to lower our demands. Tomorrow's plans are shaping up today and they need to factor the future needs and aspirations. A plan of today must not be overrun before its successor has started taking shape. This would be gargantuan challenge for our planners.

                

No more our children hear the grand parent's stories under the night summer sky. They never see the moon and never savor its chilled moon light. The galaxies and stars only feature on the science pages. The dog does not grunt anymore as the creatures of the night do not crawl on our floors and in any case these animals have also lost their edge inside cramped homes. Modern cities await us with balconied houses-but most of us encircle the balcony into the rooms. Even if we leave the balconies- we do not venture into balconies to locate the summer night.

                

The standby portable transformer was installed within a few hours by the engineers. The power factor was balanced and the electrical current raced and powered up the rotating machines. The sweating population gave a loud cheer and the agony linked bonhomie was broken immediately. Life moved on again. Ah, Bryan Adams- You said it right - 

Oh when I look back now
That summer seemed to last forever
And if I had the choice
Ya - I'd always wanna be there
Those were the best days of my life

THE VANISHING DESKTOP- A LEGACY

Back in 1988, I was graduating from Class XIIth. Those days, the country had just woken up to a new dawn and new rhetorics were trying to penetrate through the masses. Our school had been fortunate to get some 286 PCs in Sep 1987 and we would eagerly go to the Computer Class to gaze and marvel the polythene covered PCs. My Computer Teacher had been a tenant in our house and would take a special interest in my Class's introduction to this new technology. We were happy to write a few lines on these machines and especially the programme- Hello World. Before, I could attain a meaningful knowledge on the PCs , the heat of Class XIIth and the pressure to join a professional college mounted on top. The only agenda in the life was -To deliver a good result and follow it up with a seat in the medical college or the National Defence Academy (NDA).

                

By Jul 1988, I landed at the and the stringent routine at NDA Wing wiped off whatever little I remembered of my connect with the PCs. The introduction to PCs came again during the Second Term when we were ushered into an introductory capsule by Maj KL Vishwanathan (Kelly)/Fox/42. Maj Kelly was a pioneer of the NDAs Computer Lab and the Fox Connect did ensure a decent time marveling at the miniaturized TV screens and the neat type writers connected to them. The grand routine of the Academy and the perpetual fear of losing the OP Shoes ( which had to be kept outside the PC Lab) did ensure that the Shoes remained safe and the PC knowledge remained scant. This situation was made complex with the availability of an air conditioned environment in the lab and various aromas leaving the Cadet's stockings!! A delirious sleep was all that we could manage in this technology intensive cabin.

              

Computers remained an enigma all throughout the Engineering Degree at Naval College of Engineering where Lt Commander Sabu John/Fox/62 was at helm. Sabu Sir with his cool demeanor and soft skills imparted the programming skills to our batch. Programming is not everyone's cup of tea and soon we all realized that we needed to practice harder. Many a Sundays were spent in the PC Center of the College with those big Floppy Diskettes which always fell pray to the wet weather of Lonavala. A failed attempt to retrieve these floppies invariably was followed by some hard thinking and planning over a few hard pegs. A few of our geek seniors,peers and juniors were constantly evolving with these machines. Soon , many of them were spending mid-night fuel at the PC lab, loosing their sleeps, gave up on sports, drinking and traveling to town. They wore disheveled looks and soon greyed up. We looked at them with awe and worried about their well being as we constantly saw them with programming books in tow.

               

The email bug hit us all hard and one fine day Lieutenant Sandeep Asolkar/Fox/75 took me to a standalone PC in a library and I had my first Hotmail account. It was a eureka moment as I received the first email from Sandy Sir and the ease of handling the 486 over 286 dawned on me. Soon as I got my 5th Pay Commission arrears, I bought my first AMD Athalon enabled Desktop in 1998 at Visakhapatnam with a similar configuration as that of Col Alok Bajpai/Fox/52. The PC was coupled with a slow Landphone of BSNL. The internet was slow and one could take a walk and come back to find the site opened up. The connectivity matrix started to grow. This Desktop served me well till 2008 when finally it died due to an old and heat loaded AMD Processor but not before it criss crossed from Visakhapatnam to Mumbai to Wellington to New Delhi. I did feel sad when I had to bid farewell to this machine when it refused to wake up at the repair clinic.

              

 I exchanged my old PC with a new configuration HCL PC with a flat screen for 20,000/- at a shop in New Delhi. This PC brought in some good luck and with the 6th Pay Commission, we got in a Laptop, a Note Book PC and many smart phones (as these phones do not last for more than 2 years and you cannot throw the old ones away!!). This desktop has been occupying a prominent corner of our house. It does get powered up but is now unstable as its processor has deteriorated faster than the AMD. The availability of multiple options and a panache for speed to complete the many tasks, we forget to use this machine and it stands in one corner as other machines get powered up to accomplish our missions. With changing times, convergence and miniaturization have become the buzz words. The World is experiencing a new tide and new traditions are stepping into India. This is the time to change and move on with the crest. This is the time for my bulky desktop to finally leave our home along with its table and accessories. A thin laptop is all that I need now to move on and accomplish my passions. A click of a button would wipe off the data of its hard disk and then the hard disk would be crushed forever. It has done its job and I need to clear the space to let new things move into our house.
 

Legacy is a good memory only if it has served its purpose. The change has been ushered in and its legacy has begun.

On Tuesday morning, a post in Flying Officer (retired) M P Anil Kumar’s blog ‘chairbornewarrior’ came as a shock to his many followers. “MP has taken off on his final sortie into the sunset,” it said.

This was the first disheartening message ever posted on the blog, which, like the blogger himself, had served as a source of inspiration and strength to those following the blog ever since it started four years ago.

Kumar, who suffered complete paralysis neck down in a motorcycle accident in 1988 after which he was retired from the IAF, would key in the posts with a pencil-like probe in his mouth from his bed in Pune’s Paraplegic Research Centre (PRC), the home for paraplegic and quadriplegic soldiers.

A fortnight ago, Kumar’s batchmates at Sainik School, Kazhakootam, had gathered at the Military Hospital, Kirkee to celebrate his 50th birthday. Kumar was bedridden and could hardly speak a word. But none imagined that the Acute Myeloid Leukemia he was diagnosed with barely a month ago would claim his life so soon.

They had faith in the capability of their friend, who for 24 years not only stood strong against the vegetative state he was in, but became a guiding light for many — including schoolchildren — through his writings, motivational talks and mere presence.

But not this time. Kumar went down fighting the cancer at 8.15 am Tuesday- 20 May 14.

Originally from Chirayankizhu in Thiruvananthapuram, Kumar graduated from the National Defence Academy (NDA) (65th India Sqn) in 1983 as the best IAF cadet. Next year, he was commissioned into the IAF’s fighter wing and posted in No 3 Squadron of MIG- 21 fighters in Pathankot.

But the young fighter pilot’s dreams crashed on June 28, 1988. While returning home after completing a night flying exercise, Kumar, who was then 23, met with a motorcycle accident. He survived but the paralysis  permanently confined him to the PRC in Pune.

“For two years after the accident, he was under depression,” his friend Brigadier (retd) Jose Kurian said. “He was totally dependent on the PRC staff for his routine needs.”

Although reduced to a vegetative state, Kumar slowly started his fightback. He took to writing, holding a pen in his mouth. “At that time there were no mobile phones. The first time I learned about his mishap was when he wrote to me sometime in 1993-94 with a pen in his mouth. He did not stop there and took to typing. He would hold a pencil-like probe in his mouth and type essays, which were published in various newspapers and journals. One of his articles, which he wrote with a pen in his mouth, was published in The Indian Express in the ‘90s. He even published a book titled Air Borne to Chair Borne,” said Col C B Bhaskar, Kumar’s schoolmate.

Then Kumar started blogging. From cricket to life in the armed forces and from memories in NDA to his own experience as an officer, Kumar’s blog showed how much he loved life. In August 2012, Kumar received Air Chief’s commendation for displaying “indomitable fighting spirit, courage, determination and the will to overcome adversities”.

“An hour with him, and we would be charged to face all the odds in life,” Kurian said. The schoolmates had also gifted Kumar a specially designed ambulance with which he travelled thrice to his alma mater NDA. “He has now donated it to PRC,” Col Bhaskar said.

“In 2012-13, he presented the case of Flt Lt Herojit Rajkumar Singh, who was disabled while ejecting from an aircraft during training, to the then IAF chief. According to the rulebook, Singh would have been boarded out. But it was Anil’s follow up which resulted in the then chief considering Herojit’s case and giving him commission. It was the first time in the history of IAF that an individual disabled during training was commissioned as an officer and is serving,” said Air Commodore B S Krishna Kumar. “This is Anil’s legacy.”

On Tuesday, Kumar’s room, with his specially designed computer, wore an empty look. A picture on the wall drawn by a child read, “We love reading your lesson in school”. Kumar’s story continues to form part of Class X syllabus in Maharashtra State Board and Class VIII syllabus in Kerala. A memento gifted by his squadron kept in the showcase read: “To Anil, for the good times.”

  

 Kumar is survived by his mother, two sisters and a brother. His brother reached Pune from Thiruvananthapuram to perform his last rites on Wednesday. According to Col Bhaskar, it was Kumar’s wish that he be cremated in Pune.

 

Dear Folks, I had the personal honor of meeting MP Anil Kumar Sir when I was myself admitted with paraplegic injury at MH, Kirkee in 1988. He was an enigma, a great soul who opted to motivate many many who saw him going through his life at MH Kirkee. Last I met him in 1995 when I graduated from INS Shivaji and he conveyed to me that I have been very lucky in rehabilitation of my injury. RIP Anil Sir- a true Fighter.

MP ANIL KUMAR/INDIA/65

THE GLINT OF HOPE

I am walking the last mile in my beloved Uniform. It has been a wonderful journey of 26 years since I joined the National Defence Academy in 1988. These days I drive to MDI, Gurgaon for my Management Course. As I get into the maze of traffic, I cross the New Delhi's Airport's 03 busy runways. Yesterday, on my return leg, I parked my car on one side and just watched plane after plane landing into New Delhi. On my side was a family of four who had also stopped their 2-wheeler to admire the flying machines. The glint in the eyes of the young children and their excitement with each landing reminded me of my tryst with air planes.

 My first journey in a plane took place in 1989 when I had to rush to New Delhi from NDA on receiving the news of my father's sudden death. The memories are hazy as my mind was racing between rigors of 2nd Term and the future that lay in front of me post this news. So much so that I did not even acknowledge the passenger sitting next to me. He was also aloof  but somewhere in the flight he asked me whether I was from NDA? I said yes to Shashi Kapoor and he told me a few details about his association with NDA during the shooting of his movie "Vijeta". I was engrossed in my tiredness and did not connect much with the aging movie star. Post my stay at my hometown, I returned on a connecting Delhi-Mumbai-Pune Indian Airlines Flight. The flight was late and the airline put me into a hotel at Mumbai for the night halt. The next day I was delivered at Pune and was back to NDA.

              

Thus began my account with the air planes. The fascination to fly is universal amongst human beings. This invention of Wright Brothers is infectious. After all-it has the components of speed, design and shapes and they are all encompassed together in a composite frame. However, all fascinations do not turn into reality. Soon, my career also took its own shape and I contended myself with diving and surfacing Submarines into the depths of the mighty oceans. A badge remained the common identity with the Fly-boys. The Services gave me ample opportunity to fly to various destinations. I flew with Pilots from the Navy, the Air Force, the Army and Commercial Pilots from India, Germany, Russia, France, Britain and America. The thrills of flying were at their extreme during mid-flight emergencies and air-turbulences. I calmly sat through a couple of engine failures on twin-engined commercial air planes and also through an emergency landing . I witnessed the dare devilry of a Russian Tupolev Pilot when he took off with us in a blinding weather and also clapped with fellow Russia bound passengers as another Russian Pilot landed his plane safely amidst a frozen Moscow. A Naval Chetak pilot almost got my guts out with his antics over the picturesque backwaters of Kerela. A smooth take off and landing is all that a passenger needs.

             

The excited family standing next to me were counting the landings and excitedly reading the Airliner's company name. The father and mother were holding the hands of their chirping children. They all were dreaming- a new future was all that ran into their minds. The mother told her children to study hard and become big people to sit in the air plane. The son exclaimed that he would also become a pilot. The time stood still for me and turned around the images of the past. The country has hopes,wishes,dreams and desires. The young generation of India still has to travel and travel far and wide. The popular verdict proclaims that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. We need to traverse the tunnel-each one of us in his/her unique way. Our future has a young dream.

             

I took out a few candies from my bag (you need a few shots of glucose in 6 hour long classes at MDI) , introduced myself and handed them over to the young children. I wished them good luck for their dreams and started my car. As I pressed on the gas to merge with the speeding traffic, I was clear- there is a glint of hope and I must continue on my tryst with the destiny.

SOCIAL NETWORKING- AN ENIGMA FOR DEFENCE OFFICERS BUT A PRE-REQUISITE FOR A SECOND CAREER

I entered inside the portals of the majestic National Defence Academy on 02 Jul 1988 at the age of 17 and I realized that my contacts with the outside world would fade away. However, I carried one good habit with me in this arduous journey. This habit was –LETTER WRITING. A generous package of almost 50 inland letters and 50 postcards was my parent’s gift into the big steel trunk.
             

By the time I finished my First Term at the NDA Wing, my trunk had no postage left. What I achieved in effect was that I had developed a bridge with my relatives, teachers and friends whom I had left behind when I joined the “Fauj”. This good habit sustained me throughout my NDA stay and also helped me to deeply connect with a girl who is now my wife. We know each other for last 22 years since the time I was a 6th Term Cadet at the NDA and it was only courtesy the letters that we exchanged.
           

My letter writings continued unabated to people far and wide till the Internet revolution shook the World and we all became hooked to the WWW and I got my first email id. The ever evolving technology soon ushered in the concept of Social Networking. Now, Social Networking ushered in a new dilemma for the Forces hierarchy. On one hand, it’s a bridge which reduces the distances in the Global Village. On the other hand, it can lead to a wide sharing of vital information.
          

As was expected, serious security lacunas were reported regarding the usage of the Social Networks and soon enough there were ambiguous restrictions in forces over the usage of Social Networks. Non-descriptive and primitive technological gadgets were and are still encouraged amongst the defence personnel to preserve the sanctity of the information. However, this has led to a grave disconnect situation. Today, we have amongst ourselves soldiers who are isolated wanderers in this ever connecting and digitally shrinking world. Many of the uniformed personnel find it difficult to amalgamate with the Civvy Street as their digital signatures do not meet the requirements.
         

These days it is common for potential recruiters to scan through the network profiles of individuals to gauge their potentials and their expected productivity. The World of today and tomorrow would belong to multi-askers who can deliver diverse results. This phenomenon cannot be achieved in isolation. Gone are the days when vocabulary and intelligence could outshine the competition. Today’s World depends on the Speed of Delivery which is a direct outcome of the connectivity matrix.
         

It is, therefore, vital that we utilize the tremendous potential of the Social Networking sites, create our profiles with our skill sets sans the Jane’s Military Information and commence our link up with the World. You would be surprised that today if you connect only with your Class Xth and XIIth Batch Mates- you would have arrived into the scene.
       

These are trying times for all who are migrating towards a life without uniform. We are staring at a big change and we need to be geared up if we have to have a meaningful second career. So, open up your laptops, log into LinkedIn and start crawling on the Web. Meet people from the convenience of your home and it is only possible if your digital presence is known to others.

The Secured Connection

In April 2007, I was back to my posting station Mumbai from a long outing to a closed city somewhere near the North Pole. The chilled out trip from -20 to the windy and pleasant Mumbai was great and I was looking forward to catch up on the lost time with family. Just before I had left Mumbai, I had bought a second hand Sony Ericcson Mobile phone. This was my first Camera Phone and could do emails too. However, I realized that its battery was not holding for a longer duration and so I bought a trusted new Nokia with a Camera and Email capability and left the Sony Ericcson with my better half at Mumbai. On my return to Mumbai all was checked correct.

 My in- Laws had reached Mumbai before I left for Mumbai to be with my family and there were a few medical issues which we were grappling with for my Mom-in-Law. On my return to Mumbai, we went to Khar to meet a faith healer by the name of Munir Khan to take a medicine from him. The meeting with Munir Khan was pleasant and we came out happy. We thought of enjoying a family lunch at a local restaurant in Khar as it was lunch time. We entered a restaurant and ordered our lunch and some beer. A few college boys were sitting on an adjoining table and were having a smoke inside the AC premises. I just walked up to them and requested them to stop smoking as my Mom-in-Law was not feeling quite well. The boys obliged smilingly and as a gesture of thanks, I gifted them with a Cigar which I had brought from my foreign trip. We had our lunch and set off for Colaba- Navy Nagar.

           

Within first 5 minutes of the drive, my Brother-in-Law who was holding the Sony phone realized that the phone has been left behind at the hotel. I turned the car around and reached the restaurant. The manager completely denied that we had left the phone behind and so did the staff which had served us. He offered to help us and sent a boy to trace the students (they were regulars in that place). This help also came back empty handed. I spoke to a Navy Police Officer who was handling the security of a Navy establishment at Malad and even he said that it was a gone case. Leaving my contact details with the Manager, we set off for Colaba. At Mahim, I gave a call on the Sony Mobile and the bell rang but no one answered the phone. At the red light, I sent in a sms to the number and requested for posting the Sim number on my address as it contained vital contact informations. The sms was delivered. Soon the phone got switched off and no contact was possible.

          

The loss of a Mobile is distressing and the information it carries along with it can be a colossal loss. I got up early the next day (Sunday) and rang the number. The phone was switched off. I got ready and went to the Colaba Police Stn to register a FIR. With the copy of FIR, I went to collect a new SIM from the phone provider's office. Seeing my Navy Sea Cap, the agent offered me a seat and in the course of discussions he stated that his father too had worked for the Indian Navy. I told him about the loss of phone and that I could ring the bell and deliver a sms before the phone went dead. He said he could help and soon came with the call records of the last day. It was a eureka moment as now I had 04 Mobile numbers which were dialed from the phone when it was lost. Bravo, I complimented the agent and thanked the Indian Navy.
         

I got back to my home and dialed the first number. The call went to a carpenter from UP in Ooty. He feigned ignorance about whom he had spoken to from my number. The next call was not answered as the phone was switched off. The third call went to a Taxi Driver in Bhandup and he out-rightly told me to do whatever I could but I will not get the phone back. Decency is not a good trait especially when you are separated by air waves. My mind changed the tack and the actor inside me took over the next call. My Father-in- Law was interestingly watching my actions. The next call went to another carpenter in Bandra and I latched on. I introduced myself as ACP Shinde from Khar Police Station and promised that if the phone was not returned then I would have to be really strict in my actions and round up the Carpenter and his family/room mates. I thundered that you have stolen the phone of a important politician from the local set up and it was his son's phone. I added that I am about to retire and the phone should be returned otherwise the 3rd degree methods would have to be adopted. The carpenter on the other side of the phone was by now in his elements and challenged my claims. Raising my voice, I shouted in Marathi," Eh Ganpatla, Gaadi nikal, inka kholi mein jaao aur round up kar ke abhisch lao." My Father-in-Law was zapped at the change of my voice. The Carpenter was now on the receiving side. I told him that his position has been marked through this call and he cannot escape the long hands of ACP Shinde.

          

 He said, he needed time and I gave him 20 minutes to give me a call back. I opened my Beer and we waited. At the stroke of the 15th minute my mobile rang and it was the Carpenter on the other side. He said that the person who had picked up my phone was dead scared and had lost the SIM Card which was thrown into Khar sea. They were willing to return the hand set and wanted my team to pick it up from an abandoned pipe line behind a Bandra hospital. Now it was my turn to get lost as I was not very well aware of the Mumbai geography and surely this hospital was nowhere in my horizon. I just memorized the details and we agreed to meet at 1600 hrs to pick the phone. In return the Carpenter pleaded that they should not be touched to which I reluctantly agreed in-spite of the fact that they had lost the SIM and the local politician would not be very amused by the fact.

Next I called my Navy Police friend and he was aghast that a phone was on its way to recovery. His men knew the area and he sent his team to pick the phone. The team came back with the phone from the abandoned pipe line behind the hospital. The phone was intact but of course with the SIM Card missing. It was a miraculous retrieval and my Father-in-Law still enacts the act of ACP Shinde and Havaldar Ganpat Kamble.

 

Today we are privileged to have phones with Trackers and pass words. Keep the password switched on and make it as robust as possible. Always activate the tracker as any change of SIM would be immediately reported on the alternate mobile number. The smart phone can even be made dead using remote internet techniques. We are moving towards an over-cautious but secured connections world. The data syncing keeps the contacts on a cloud data base and even a lost phone data can be instantly recovered by another smart phone. Of course, only the pocket feels a bit lighter. It is also true that one man's delight becomes another man's security concern as free App services communicate free bytes instantly. These services are meant to connect us. Can we stop someone from sending a data? Can we stop our habit of forwarding from our devices? Its now an itch and the fingers feel stiff if we do not forward a few things in a day. All that we must ensure is- Live and Let Live. Indians are the second largest population on this planet and even if some one decides to snoop on all our acts then he has to invest a lot of currency and also employ highly trained manpower. Do they have such resources? All that we must ensure is a secured connection. Keep life simple. Read and watch what we get and forward we must what is relevant. A vibrant and chirping India on smart connections is the new Psyops avatar for snooping enemies. So keep texting and keep smiling. After all, you need to connect with people, your children, your spouse, your relatives it you have to survive in these "Link Up" times.

The Auto Ride

New Delhi is a fascinating city and especially for those who have been raised in its environs. I also happen to be a partial Delhiite as I was born here and grew up in Rohtak which is just about 60 kms from Delhi. My frequent visits to my maternal grand parents house in Delhi made me familiar to its many cultural and social aspects. I was more than happy when I got an appointment to Delhi post the Staff Course. Now Delhi for visiting grand parents house and Delhi for living on your own has different connotations. I got a cultural shock when I realized that none of my extended family members (there is a sizeable chunk of them in Delhi) had a clue about a rented accommodation in Dwarka sub-city where majority of Officers landing at Delhi check-in to begin their Delhi lives. I struggled to get a decent 2 BR house for my family and silently admired the good luck of my uncles and aunts who were staying in their own houses in Delhi and none had an additional house in Dwarka. My struggles in Delhi began and giving me company was my best half and two young children. Slowly, the life moved on and we became comfortable within our meager means.

 

My appointment necessitated frequent travel outside Delhi. The golden rule of my office was to catch the first flight out and get in by the last flight- if it was a day's work or take a late noon flight if the work spilled over to the next days. I must state here that I have a bad habit of reaching the airports/bus/train stations at least 2-2.5 hours ahead of the schedule. This is where my adventure began.

It was a hectic week  in peak June and I flew out of Delhi on the first flight to Mumbai and was back in the night. Next day I was off to Kolkata and again touched base at New Delhi late night through an Air India Kolkata- London flight. I worked at Delhi on Wednesday and on Thursday I had to take a late noon flight to Bengaluru. This was the tip of my wife's patience. As I checked into my home from Office for a quick shower and change, my best half was livid with my reason for a 1330 hrs departure for the airport to catch the 1600 hrs flight!!! Her reason was that the Airport is just 07 kms away from our home and what was the reason to go early and rather not spend some time at home? I gave up and finally set out of the home at 1430 hrs.

 

The Delhi heat was at its peak sucking the monsoons. As I came out of our high rise, I could not see even a single automated vehicle which could have taken me to the airport. The shower effect vaporized within no time and I set off on the foot towards the nearest road junction. Wearing my trademark Ray- Bans and sporting a crew cut I frantically was looking for a transport. I flagged down a manual rickshaw and told him to move towards the airport. 02 red lights passed and I saw one Yellow Green auto. It was a eureka moment and the time was ticking. The auto driver looked completely dis-interested and asked me for Rs 150/- to ferry me to the balance 05 kms!! Beggars cannot be choosers and I climbed the auto without any fuss looking at my watch.

 

As the auto moved and the hot wind started zipping me, I flipped out my mobile phone and dialed a number. It seemed that on the other side a Police Officer was on the line. The auto driver was driving in his own world and with his own happiness. I started speaking to the Police Officer on the other end and explained that I was touching down with my team. I sought 2 unmarked vehicles and I would follow my own rules and wishes to complete the encounter tonight in his city. By the time I finished this call, the auto driver had sat ram rod straight from his crouching pose. If you are aware of the Delhi auto drivers- you would have distinctly noticed their cross legged style of sitting and driving autos.

 

My next call was to my team members wherein I inquired about the ammunition and guns and  whether everything had been tied up at Delhi air port for a smooth passage as I was running a bit late on time. The reply seemed to be affirmative. The auto driver by now was sweating profusely and almost not resting on his seat. He was now aching to get me to the airport. The Delhi's new T-3 airport was not yet ready and there was a lot of construction activity at the airport's entry point. Soon enough, we turned inside the airport and I was clocking at 1510 hrs. Far away, I saw 04 men wearing grey Safari suits (there are many that you can see in Delhi) and talking animatedly. I just looked at that side and fortunately 02 of them also turned towards my side, bent to pick up their stuff and started moving. The auto driver was by now shivering and had also brought out my suitcase. Iwas taking out money from my purse but the auto driver saluted me and did not want any money. I touched his shoulder and gave him Rs 75/-. He was nervous and unwilling. He even wanted me to take his mobile number so that he could pick me up from where ever I wanted in Dwarka (Delhi is famous for its home deliveries and services!!). I told him to be careful from the next time and promise me not to fleece the customers. He was desperate to run away as the Safari clad men were now inching closer. On a nod from me as I kept the money in his pocket- the auto driver zipped away without even looking back.

 

The men in Safari closed by me and I turned inside into the Airport. They just walked past me and went away. The timing was perfect and the deed had been done. The lesson to the auto driver must have stayed as his falling sweat must have sorted out his Delhi chemistry. Soon enough, I was air-borne but not before thanking my best half for imparting some adult education to the auto driver. As the plane gathered altitude- I looked down from the window and saw many a Green Yellow machines criss crossing the roads of Delhi. I wondered how many of them would be fleecing the customer running against time!! My take away from this episode- Keep fighting fit, keep small hair, sport a Ray Ban and do not hesitate to act if need be. After all, the adult education in India is still a valid concept.