Idhar Udhar Ki Baat

“I don’t think they should have arrested all those Youtuber spies,” I remarked, seated on a park bench surrounded by fellow veterans. An older veteran turned to me sharply. “What nonsense are you talking about? You’ll be branded anti-national.” “I agree, sir,” I replied. “On the surface, my statement sounds foolish. But I believe we lost a strategic opportunity.” The group chuckled. “What opportunity?” they asked in unison. “Emotionally, yes, I’d prefer a death sentence for those who betray the nation. But what will actually happen? A year or two in jail. Maybe even less. We could have used them instead—to feed misinformation to our enemies before busting them. If these Youtubers had been privately confronted, they might have cooperated. Fame is everything to them. The enemy handlers would’ve continued trusting them, not replacing them with fresh spies. Now that they’ve been arrested, new ones will be recruited, and we’ll be starting from scratch. Who knows—we could’ve traced...

  He should be called ‘Sotra’(Sleepyhead) and not Gothra!” That was a well-meaning complaint from an instructor to my wife once. All she could do there was smile. But on the way back you can imagine what I got from the Inglish wali madam . See, sleep and I go way back. Like proper childhood friendship. My mother’s eternal war cry was, “Uth ja, school ki ghanti bajne wali hai! (Get up, the school bell is about to ring.)” I’d still be buried in my rajai, ears twitching—trying to catch the faint sound of chaos from across the nallah where the school stood. The goal? Sleep until the first bell. The method? Supreme laziness. The result? Maa’s chappal. In college, I discovered a new thing, the best quality of sleep is between 4 am and daybreak. Oh, the snooze button! Those ten extra minutes felt like winning the lottery. Occasionally had to miss class as I sometimes lost track of time in that snooze game. Then came the Academy. Sleep became a luxury commodity. Instructors th...