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IDHAR UDHAR KI BAAT 134- ALL HAVE GONE. Brig PS Gothra (Retd)

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“Saare hi chale gaye…” (“All of them are gone now”), my father-in-law, well into his ninties, would say almost every time we sat together for a drink. And every time he said it, I would wonder—How does a man feel when he outlives almost everyone he once loved? Like the winner of life’s race? Or like a forgotten straggler left behind after the crowd has disappeared? One evening, perhaps sensing my thoughts, he smiled faintly and said, “You know… at this age, I feel like that one cup, saucer, or glass tumbler left behind after the rest of the crockery set has broken.” He paused and took a sip. “People cannot throw it away… but among the new crockery, it becomes an eye sore.” I laughed softly. But the truth inside that metaphor stayed with me. I was never his ideal drinking companion. He liked lively company. Loud laughter. Long evenings. Stories flowing with whisky. Perhaps too much of it in his younger days. In fact, I suspect he had spent so many evenings outside the home during h...
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IDHAR UDHAR KI BAAT 133 — COVERS Brig PS Gothra (Retd)

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“Dadaji, your generation was funny. Look at that old man at the bus stand. He has covered his suitcase with camouflage-pattern cloth. It must take him ages to open it,” said Sonu, the eldest among the three Gen Z boys travelling with me in the car. I smiled. “Beta, these things came naturally to our generation. Firstly, because we were not very well off. Secondly, because our parents taught us to preserve things.” “But Dadu… why cover a suitcase?” “Not just suitcases. In my childhood, transistor radios came in leather covers. Our old valve radio had a beautifully crocheted cover on it. Later, the same thing happened with televisions. Some people even used covers for their wrist watches,” I replied. “Watches? Then how did they even see the time?” Sonu laughed. “There was a flap. People became innovative. Some used press buttons, some used Velcro. Lift the flap, see the time, and close it again. The idea was simple—don’t let scratches ruin the watch,” I replied. The boys burst into laugh...
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IDHAR UDHAR KI BAAT 132- PROMULGATION PARADE Brig PS Gothra (Retd)

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“Get me out of here.” That was the first thing my cousin said with tears in his eyes, when I visited him inside Tihar Jail. It was his seventh day there. I had avoided going for all those days. Not out of indifference… but discomfort. A strange mix of hesitation, shame, and helplessness. But family pressure finally got the better of me.     My cousin had lived in the United States illegally for over ten years.       Then one day, something changed within him. Perhaps guilt or fatigue or a longing for home. He walked into the Indian Embassy and requested to be deported back. The family was relieved. We went to the airport to receive him. But he was arrested at the airport.      Only later did the truth emerge. The agent who had sent him abroad had used stolen visa stickers from the U.S. Embassy in Delhi. When the agent was caught, he revealed the names of everyone who benefited.      Like many others my cousin had handed ...
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IDHAR UDHAR KI BAAT 131- STRESS Brig PS Gothra (Retd)

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“Beji… you cannot imagine the stress I’m going through because of my board exams,” I said, trying to break my grandmother’s silence. Silence was her favorite weapon. Whenever I messed up, she would simply stop talking to me. But over time, I had learned her weakness—challenge her thoughts, and she would eventually respond.She finally spoke. “I have seen five of my children go through board exams. I know what exam   stress is. But I am more worried about your way of handling it… by oversleeping.” “I’m sorry, Beji… I just don’t know what else to do.” She looked at me and said firmly, “Physical activity, my boy. That is how you deal with stress.” I knew what was coming next—one of her old stories. I had heard some of them ten times already. But I was willing to listen again… if it meant she would keep talking. She leaned back and began. “When your grandfather’s unit was slated to go for the World War II, we wives were under tremendous stress. Every evening, when the soldie...
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IDHAR UDHAR KI BAAT 130- CEASEFIRE BY DESIGN Brig PS Gothra (Retd)

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  “The enemy across the line of control has fired at your posts. What are you going to do?” Asked my boss after the evening report. “Nothing as of now. I have not suffered any casualties. But I will reply at a suitable time and place,” I said. I was hoping that he is not thinking like my staff   that I had chickened out of. I was sure my staff must have already formed an opinion that the The Sardar talks tough, but when it matters, he holds back. . “Okay,” said my boss and ended the conversation. I knew he was one of those ‘chauri chhati wala boss’   broad-chested not just in physique, but in patience. I got busy passing instructions on what to be done. Accordingly at quarter past four in the morning our troops fired six grenades from the automatic grenade launcher   on the enemy’s yellow flag area (toilets). And all our boys got back under the cover of bunkers. After ten minutes the enemy was raining bullets and bombs at our posts. The firing continued for fif...
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IDHAR UDHAR KI BAAT 129 — THE BEAR TRAP. Brig PS Gothra (Retd)

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  Two fishermen stood by a river in full spate. It was dusk, and the fading light made visibility poor. Both men were excellent swimmers—confident, experienced, and perhaps a little too sure of themselves. One of them, Benji, suddenly pointed toward the middle of the river and said, “Look there… a blanket is floating. Can you fetch it?” The other, Donald, smirked with quiet arrogance, “In no time.” But before jumping he took a moment to announce on X that he was about to perform a daring feat. Then, without hesitation, he leapt into the raging river. At first, everything went exactly as expected. Donald cut through the water with strong, confident strokes, reached the so-called blanket, and grabbed it firmly. For a brief moment, it appeared that he would return just as easily. But then something changed. Instead of swimming back toward the bank, he began drifting along with the object. What had looked like a simple task was quickly turning into a struggle. Benji immediatel...
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IDHAR UDHAR KI BAAT 128 — FABLE OF THE GULF Brig PS Gothra (Retd)

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    Once upon a time, there was a lion in the jungle. Very powerful. Almost a hegemon . The other animals respected him—some out of fear, some out of habit.     The lion had an interesting system. He shared two “toilets” with the rest of the jungle. One was called NATU, where a group of sheep stayed. The other was called  GULF used by a bunch of white rabbits. Both sheep and rabbits considered themselves modern, progressive, and secure. But deep inside, they carried a quiet discomfort. Because after finishing his business, the lion would casually pick up one of them… and use it to clean himself like a toilet paper. It was humiliating. But it came with a guarantee—security. And security, in a dangerous jungle, often comes at a price.     In the jungle lived a fox. Clever. Extremely clever. The fox was under constant existential  threat. Survival for him was not comfortable—it was a daily struggle. He knew one thing very clearly: He cannot persuade ...
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