Idhar Udhar Ki Baat

“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...

  “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...

  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...