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IDHAR UDHAR KI BAAT 148— SHARE YOUR FUCK-UPS Brig PS Gothra (Retd.)

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“It is a matter of shame for our Regiment. The CO should be hanged,” a regimental friend said over the phone, breaking the news about the theft of weapons from the kote of 20 MADRAS . “Hmm,” was all I could manage. My thoughts were with the Commanding Officer. His battalion was reportedly away for field firing , and he must have been rushing back to the unit rear. Everyone in the hierarchy would want to know what had happened. And then there would be people like me—who could do a fig about it but might still ring to remain abreast of the situation .  As my friend continued, I remembered one of my own fuck-ups . In March 2006, while I was commanding a Rashtriya Rifles Battalion , an AK rifle went missing from one of my companies. We searched for hours but finally informed higher headquarters. All hell broke loose. For the next few hours, I received some of the finest gaalis available in the military vocabulary. Between the instalments of gaalis, I asked three of...
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IDHAR UDHAR KI BAAT 147 — MY REGIMENTAL FACE Brig PS Gothra (Retd.)

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  “Kya mila? (Which arm or service have you been allotted?)” Asked my Company Commander at the IMA , Major Sabarwal, as I was marched up to him during the last week of training. I was expecting him to read out the charge against me. The unexpected question stunned me for a second and then I answered. “ The Madras Regiment , Sir.” He smiled. “Good. The troops will be happy to see a Kala Khalsa . Now get lost.” I saluted and happily bolted out. Three years later, I asked my buddy Ismail, “ Nivea cream le aana.” He gave me a strange look. That evening, instead of Nivea, I found a tube of Fair & Lovely sitting proudly on my dressing table”. Perhaps Ismail knew something I didn't. My self-esteem had already taken a small beating the previous day. Returning from temporary duty, I had stopped at a restaurant for a meal. The manager promptly sent me two steaming towels . I was impressed by the hospitality—until I noticed that everybody else had been given only o...
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IDHAR UDHAR KI BAAT 146— THE NEON BRA STRATEGY Brig PS Gothra (Retd.)

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  “You are hereby sentenced to death,” said the Presiding Judge of the Court of the Republic of Banana. Somebody had to be blamed for the lost war. And as their foreign Security Adviser, I was the most convenient scapegoat. “Do you wish to say anything?” “Certainly, Your Honour. This is the first time since I was hired in September 2045 that anyone appears interested in hearing my views. You hired me because you believed India had done reasonably well in warfare during the previous decades.” “Correct.” “But you copied India’s shopping list and ignored its homework.” The Defence Minister asked, “What do you mean?” “You bought big ticket items assuming that victory would be home-delivered.” The defence minister jumped up. “Our military expenditure was the highest in our history!” “Unfortunately, expenditure and effectiveness are not identical twins.” The courtroom fell silent. “After Operation Sindoor in 2025, India learnt something important— success also has...
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IDHAR UDHAR KI BAAT 145 — THE CHAI-PAKORA STRATEGY Brig PS Gothra (Retd.)

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    "Fauji, teri maan nu..." The Pakistani terrorist on the other end of the radio followed it with a few more abuses. His gaalis gave me an excellent opportunity to unleash my considerable knowledge—and some innovation—of Punjabi gaalis . Having exhausted my vocabulary, I discovered another weapon. I kept the press-to-talk switch pressed even when I had nothing to say. His frequency remained jammed. I was delighted. Somewhere in the Kashmir mountains, I imagined a frustrated terrorist banging his radio set. My victory lasted a few days. Then he came back on air with a more powerful transmitter and happily communicated through my jamming. Twice every day, we could hear the terrorists giving their OK report to their control station. It was usually followed by a motivational tarana . Amateur that I was, I became convinced that if I listened long enough, one terrorist would surely say something like: "Kal subah nau baje hum falane jungle ke teesre ped ke neeche mi...
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