IDHAR UDHAR KI BAAT 121- SASTA DAIPER Brig PS Gothra (Retd)

 “You know, a very obese man once died,” the old man began casually, as if recalling a village anecdote. “And the task of finding solution to lift the body was given to Tipu Gothra. No one seemed to know—or perhaps no one cared—that Tipu Gothra suffered from cerebral palsy. After hours of deep ‘analysis’, his brilliant recommendation was that the pubic hair of the dead man be shaved off.”

The ex-fauji raised an eyebrow.
“What else could he have suggested? A dead man’s weight doesn’t reduce with ideas. And anyway, why are you even bringing this up?”

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” the old man added with mock innocence, “Tipu Gothra was also an ex-fauji, just like you. The task was to design a device or some clever improvisation to lift the body—without magically reducing its weight. I remembered this story because these days everyone is talking about something called ‘taxing disability’.”

“Yes,” the ex-fauji nodded. “That’s to prevent misuse of facilities by some people.”

The old man looked at him with quiet pity. He knew this man had spent a lifetime putting duty above self, so much so that he had forgotten how to think of his own interests.
“Mark my words,” he said softly, “one day another Tipu Gothra will recommend withdrawing CSD, medical facilities, rations, allowances, DR—maybe even pensions—justifying it by saying, ‘Some people misuse it.’”

“You’re casting aspersions on all ex-faujis,” the ex-fauji protested.

“No,” the old man smiled thinly. “I’m talking only about Tipu Gothra. He retired four and a half years ago. When he was in service, he couldn’t solve the problem of over-speeding vehicles. Every time there was an incident, his solution was to build another speed breaker. The station he commanded was riddled with spine—sorry, speed—breakers.”

“That’s unfair,” the ex-fauji replied. “No one can really solve that problem.”

The old man burst out laughing.
“Exactly! And these are the same people who talk of fighting future wars with ‘disruptive technology’. Where is the culture of innovation supposed to come from? If you can’t innovate beyond laying one more speed breaker, how will you generate disruptive ideas? By now, we should have had some technology to render every enemy barrel useless before it even fires. But no—laissez-faire prevails.”

He paused, then continued, his tone sharpening.
“Tipu Gothra couldn’t stop the LAO from fleecing the unit, the IFA from taking his cut, or the CDA officials from poaching. Result? The unit ended up buying fewer things within the same budget. Then Modiji brought in GeM. Maybe things are better now—who knows.”

“That’s all above Tipu Gothra’s pay grade,” the ex-fauji said defensively.

“Oh, pay grade!” the old man scoffed. “When it came to responsibilities matching his pay grade, he wouldn’t even brief his patrol properly—just a casual, ‘Idhar udhar lag jao.’ But when it came to decision-making, he’d constantly look over his shoulder, whispering, ‘Papa, main kya karun?’ And papa would say, ‘Jo uchit samjho, woh karo.’”

He shook his head.
“Tipu Gothra’s entire career was about pleasing seniors—constantly signalling, ‘Aap mahaan ho.’ In the nineties, when his company was issued a steam cooking system, he kept it unused so that the kitchen would look neat and tidy during inspection. And the inspecting officer was equally myopic—unable, or unwilling, to see that a costly asset lay unused or used only on the inspection day.”

“Whatever you say, sir,” the ex-fauji said quietly, “Tipu Gothra believes he is the one who stands firm when everything else fails.”

The old man smiled wryly.
“Don’t worry. Even a sasta diaper feels the same.”

Jai Hind.

Note:-  An old IUKB is again narrated in Hindi video. You can access it by clicking on the link https://youtu.be/NO8fB8rJ8-I