Thoughts in Words

      While I was being introduced to what was SSB in preparation for the selection by a relative of mine who was a Major he asked me what all games I played. Not wanting to count and list it out to him, I gave a short answer, “almost all”. “Do you play Bridge?” he asked me. I was stumped. I had no clue what it was. He had succeeded in putting me in my place. He showed me a bridge to cross.       Four of us as youngsters within five years of service were in a battalion in Rajouri, a field area, in 1972. There is a custom in our Officers’ Mess. The senior most, generally the CO, goes to the dining hall first and others follow, mostly seniority wise. Till then everybody sits around in the ante-room, where all report before the CO (note the reverse), having a couple of drinks and chit-chatting. In this particular Mess, the CO and a couple of seniors used to play Bridge. We youngsters were not given to drinking as them and so soon got tired of the delay due t...

The other day my grandchildren sent me a whatsapp (what else) video wherein they were playing with their neighbour’s tiny cute little bundle of a Shih Tzu pup. They were frustrating him by not giving the ball to him. I got wild. Game should be played with equal chances and when it comes to pups they should always win. Every dog should have his day. And then Dr Divya, a top notch gynaecologist of Hyderabad sent me a picture of the shining head of her Daschund pup, his tongue licking her palm. He will grow to be a long dog for sure. My thoughts bundled backwards over the years. Once in the early 80s I happened to lay my hands on a book titled “The Man Who Spoke Dog” in a library. I borrowed it and am not ashamed to say that I didn’t return it for I knew when I saw a treasure. I happily paid the due fine. But as it happens I lent the book to someone to whom I could not recollect later and so lost possession. I broke the axiom, “never lend a book”. Also the philosophy of losing wh...

I had the worst of times and I had the best of times. Through a lot of foolishness I have reached an age of wisdom, yet to be fully attained. There were times of incredulity and there were times of belief. There were seasons of darkness and there were seasons of hope. During the winters of despair I dreamt of the springs of hope. I had nothing before me and I had everything before me. The above paragraph sounds familiar? Yes it would. I took it from Charles Dickens and mangled it out of shape! You see it seemed apt for the story about to be told. Looking back over my narrow shoulders at my life and weighing the good and the bad, what I had and what I have, what I needed and what I wanted, what I dreamt of and what was dealt to me, I have two things against God. I am not an atheist, let me declare. But I am not really “God fearing” as one is expected to be, brought up to be. Whatever I do or even think God knows it all, right? So to me God is more of a friend. You might s...

Having executed what might seem to many as my death wish, meaning smoking, albeit frustrating such many nincompoops for many decades, it is time to record my dying wish. Once I kick the bucket, no blame should be placed on me, but the shroud. It is silly to meet your maker, naked. Time of death is but then the biggest mystery. Hence it is better to make a bucket list a priory. Those who have seen war movies or westerns obviously have noticed that the man who is about to be done for is given a swig or a drag or both by the very compassionate “pardner”. Let that be remembered in my case. The soothing that it gives is immense and is not to be denied to me. I would like to go high and in a swirl of vanishing smoke. If there are any movies that I enjoyed other than those of Sophia Loren or Gina Lollobrigida are the genres mentioned. I don’t obviously know who those compassionate ones would be next to me at the appointed hour, but I hope it will be one of the loyal readers of my blogs. ...

That when I was in Class 6 in our village ESLC School in Kerala, I got the first prize in Long Jump which I executed in my new white full pants, was a hit. That I was known as “High Jumper Rajendran” in the High School in Madras, from Class 8 onwards, was a hit. That in one Malayalam test in Class 8, I was given the maximum marks for a question on reference to context in poetry and when my class mates questioned the teacher complaining that I wrote only four lines whereas they wrote a whole para, and when he said that in those four lines I had written much more than what they wrote, though baffled me, was a hit. From then on that I was first or second in every class both in Malayalam and English was also a hit. The teacher had pulled the trigger! That I represented my School in Swimming as a sub-junior was a hit. That I represented my College in Basketball (from which I walked away after two years for reasons not relevant here), Volleyball, Football and Athletics a...

At that time, that is a full decade ago from now, he was commanding his Battalion as a full-fledged Colonel. In Infantry to command the same Battalion into which one is Commissioned is quite coveted and looked forward to. For each Infantry Officer that is a dream. He was fortunate in this aspect. For many that is the ultimate. They don’t even care for further achievements! By then he was quite deep into married life too, with three children. The youngest was only just about three, then. His wife, who has been with him for about seven years by then, was looking after the Regimental Nursery School. The wife of the Commanding Officer has quite a few duties to perform, mostly de facto. Nursery School was one of those. Ever since their marriage she had been with him mainly in Instructional Institutions, either when he was a student or was an Instructor and on a UN mission. She had thus never noticed him in his full Regimental Regalia, though UN uniform was quite impressive. One...

Perhaps I should title this piece as “A Tryst with Truth” or “My Experiments with Drugs”, but that would sound perilously close to plagiarism and downright pompous in case of former and too humble in the latter. (Why Nehru thought of you know what as “tryst” beats me!) So I will stick with LSD which stands for Lysergic acid Diethylamide, whose chemical formula is, just to indicate the complications, C 20 H 25 N 3 O. Obviously it is not a simple chemical as H 2 O! You see the 60s and 70s were the years of the Flower Children and Hippie Culture and Woodstock and Jimi Hendrix. So there was always a magnetic draw towards this unholy fun for those who were in their early adult hood like me. But middle class morality in which I grew up was (don’t know now) a very strong thing! It was extremely difficult to break out of that shackle as a rebel. One reason might have been that it was not a shackle really and another that I actually did not have any compelling reason to rebel, imaginary or...

Service in the National Cadet Corps was compulsory for all college students from 1963 to 1968. It was during this period that I was in college. My first day at the parade was a memorable one, being a total fiasco. I was getting ready for my first parade. I wore the dress and was trying to tie the boot lace, a leather one, and it broke! With ingenuity I knotted the two pieces and managed to tie the shoes. Then came the belt, a web belt. I could not adjust it to my waist size. So I carried the belt and cap in my hand and stood line when somebody barked something. When the ustad came around on inspection, he ridiculed me by laughing at my condition and showed me how to adjust the belt and the right way to wear the cap. I felt like a clown in that odd uniform and that ridiculous belt which covered most of my belly and in that cap which was ready to fall off any moment. I knew in my heart of hearts that the breaking of the boot lace on the very first attempt was a bad omen. My NCC ...