A Reversal Of Arms
India should ensure that every legitimate need of its soldier, even in death, is taken care of writes PACHU MENON
The notification of a scheme by the State government to administer special package and concessions/facilities to the personnel or families of Indian Armed Forces linked to Goa, who are killed/disabled in action or die in harness in the performance of their bona fide official duties is indeed laudable.
Amidst a rising feeling of despondency in the forces with regard to the security of their kith and kin in the event of death of the soldier in the line of duty, we have had many youngsters shying away from joining the Armed Services. A strong resentment at the existing disparity in payments with their civilian counterparts has already resulted in a dented morale yet to be assuaged. One could only see the ‘one rank one pension’ demand as a consequence of the bitterness carried over into retirement as well.
Arguments to the contrary not withstanding, risking one’s life in God-forsaken areas, in hostile conditions, serving the Motherland with aplomb, the Country should ensure that every legitimate need of the soldier, even in death, is taken care of. However, we have never been sincere enough in our attempts to safeguard the interests of the sentinels of the nation who sacrifice their today so that we could have a better tomorrow.
Touted as the second largest in the world after China, the Indian army is facing problems of stress amongst its officers and soldiers. Many of the personnel are committing suicide and in some extreme cases, the soldiers have turned their guns on colleagues and superiors. Shouldering the responsibility of guarding the Nation against both external incursions and internal strife, the Army of late has always been in a state of constant combat. The concept of a ‘peace time’ exists no more – the field postings and the peace station tenures hardly have any relevance these days.
The counter-insurgency operations, deployment in far-flung areas; increased engagements with enemy soldiers and better equipped militants, living lives on the edge of the bayonets; not getting proper rest and sleep and lacking basic amenities, their condition is indeed appalling. Such deplorable conditions affecting the psyche and health of the combatants are taking a toll on the army, with increasing instances of soldiers being involved in affray, even resulting in the killing of their officers.
The implementation of the Sixth Pay-Commission brought into focus the disparities in the fiscal formulation between the defence personnel and their civilian counterparts. For once, the military cadre was very visible strongly voicing their displeasure. But when a contingent of retired soldiers of varying ranks marched to the Rashtrapati Bhavan and returned medals won in combat, and for distinguished service, as they sought equal pension for each rank, this was termed as a black day for the Indian Armed Forces. It was as if the dictum, “Yours is not to question, just obey the command,” was being stretched a bit too far! A former naval officer went as far as filing an application under the Right To Information Act asking the government on what basis the demand for the ‘one rank one pension’ was overlooked.
It is rightly said that, “Those left behind by the dead, die a thousand deaths.” War has its own causalities and none more than the dependants of the deceased trooper! It is true that besides the ex-gratia the family gets, the Armed Forces also have their own welfare branches to rehabilitate disabled soldiers and help widows and dependents rebuild their lives. And the government, does it always have to lament a shortfall of adequate funds for the needy causes of the armed forces?
But the war-widows and those maimed and disabled have a different story to tell! No sooner has the dust settled over those few weeks of sympathies, adoration and accolades over the act of supreme sacrifice in the service of the Nation, proffered by government officials, ministers and various politicians; as soon as the publicity accorded by the media and the press simmers down, these poor souls are left to fend for themselves. Some of their conditions are extremely pathetic; at their wits end, struggling to make both ends meet. Those returning home after retirement from the services do not fare better; they are at best offered services as security guards or officers! After all, this is what they are best equipped at – guarding!
After the infamous Mumbai carnage of 26/11, the soldier was declared as the ‘Indian Of The Year” by a TV Channel. Watching the footage on the small screen, beamed across live, showing the valiant NSG commandos fighting a pitched battle against the terrorists against all odds, for the second time after the Kargil fiasco, the country rose in unison to accept the role of the Armed Forces in maintaining the peace, freedom and integrity of a Nation. Hardly has anyone been unmoved by the sight of wooden caskets with the bodies of the brave sons felled by enemy bullets returning home to a martyr’s welcome, from border outposts and other combat zones.
Uncertainties face a soldier everyday! The fitful bouts of sleep and awakening with a sense that a burning tension will always consume them, are an indication of their high stressed life! While it is true that we civilians have a very meagre knowledge about the life of ordinary enlisted men in the Armed Forces, those in the lower rung, the non commissioned officers; we are debating and arguing about the involvement of senior officers of the ‘stars and stripes variety’ in kick-backs over defence deals and land-scams, thanks to the efforts of an over-enthusiastic media.
If the same zeal was shown towards redressing the problems of an ordinary soldier, it would bring about a reassurance to the uniformed corps that the Nation cares!
The notification by the Government to take care of Goans in the military comes at a time when the entire state is mourning the gallant son of the soil, Wing Commander Oswald de Abreu, who died in a fighter jet crash. Whilst it is true that no amount of money or compensatory packages can bring back a loved one from the realms of yonder, this should be seen as the best a state can do in the present circumstances for its citizens who decide to take up the call of the Nation and serve it with blind devotion. Jai Hind!
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“Knock! Knock!….Pus..tok!”
By Francis Rodrigues
The wine-glass shrieked and my parrot freaked. Three more taps. “Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle! Pee….pee….people!” rhymed the old MC. I burst awake from busting bathing beauties on Baga beach. I’d dozed off waiting for the NY Goans’ annual literary bash to start.
”Knock! Knock! Time for…push…talk!” went creaky Ann Bentao, opening festivities with a gaggy pun on pustok – Konkani for book! Chairperson Bentao was famed for her sex-studded pot-boilers. B.A.L.O.N.Y. (Boroupi Ani Literati Of New York) pretentious Goan society literary wannabes, hosted this annual carnival of clowns.
“Tell, tell, tell!” cried journo Farid Noorani, “Who this year’s Nobel?” BALONY’s Annual do’s crowning moment was the announcement of the prized “Goencar Annual Nobel De Universe” (GANDU) award.
“Quiet!” spat Ann, “First, we toast our sponsor, Cabot Publishing!”
John Cabot, rumored to have seen America before Columbus, and touched Goa in 1498 before Vasco Da Gama, was the connection. “Raise…thumbs!” cried Ann, “A toast! To Cabot…Viva! Bon Salud!” Around the hall, a sea of upturned thumbs yelled “Bon….Cabot!” “And now…..sucker-pothi time!” shrieked Cocky sarcastically.
The popat always knows!
After the intros, Goan authors fan out in predatory packs, cornering sorry suckers with pothis (bags) stuffed with their latest literary masterpieces – as no one else will touch them with a bargepole. Cocky aloft, I mingled with the masses of farces. Year after year, we came to enjoy the pseudo – Goencars fresh off the boat, who overnight develop these amazing twangs and Yankee monikers!
“So crean ferrow!” a deft damsel extended Cocky a dainty hand.
“O ya look mighty clean to me ya’self!” shot back my cockatoo.
“Shut up Cocky!” I hissed, “That’s her name! Succorin Ferrao!”
Ferrao wrote steamy sagas of adulterous goenchis and ghantis.
“I’m lazily mellow!” a dreamy pair passed, “Like my florin silver?”
“Shouldn’t that be a silver florin?” asked Cocky, “They’re stoned!”
“Idiot!” I growled, “That gay pair’s Leslie Melo and Florian Silva!” Cordon-bleu chefs, they’d authored “Pez for Pairs by Flo and Lez”
“Jersey Lorens!” hooted an owl in ugly pullover, “Sophia’s cousin!”
“That’s pulp publisher Josie Lourenso! Here to buy…from Dubai!”
“Robot Figure-Eight!” drunkenly staggered an IT nerd, circling us. “Skate the figure-eight!” cried Cocky, “He’s higher than a kite!” “That’s Robert Figueiredo!” I cursed, “Author of ‘PCs for Pixeas!”
A rotund shape detached itself from the groaning buffet-tables.
“Dick Oster Caterers!” he said. “Care for a crockit from my buffit?”
“I see now!” said Cocky, “D’Costa Caterers, hehe! Buffit, haha!”
Suddenly there was a commotion. Ripples raced through the hall.
“She’s here, here, Aunty’s here!” The chief guest had arrived!
”Tai” or “Aunty” as she is more popularly known, is a celebrated
political novelist, with a spectacular mane of rasta dreadlocks.
Selmane Rastai is a name fitting her perfectly – both in looks and lion-hearted approach in tackling issues from London to Loutolim. Ann Bentao ushered Selmane onto the stage to huge applause.
“And now, GANDU awardee for 2010…Hector Hair’gel Herreiro!”
Hector, a balding octogenarian and former hair model, grew up in the tea-estates of Darjeeling, India. Life was dreamy there, time
enough for HHH to pen his life’s work on indolence, “Tea Folly”.
Coming to New York, a dairy friend in the weed business helped
publish “Tea Folly”, giving him the company’s own Doodh’weed
award – which HHH then proudly wore as a lifelong decoration.
“A GANDU Fiction Award,” said Selmane, “is a contentious prize!” Scores of authors fight for it! We proudly award it to Hector for…”
“Friction!” screamed Cocky, and immediately there was chaos.
Hector stepped up and began speaking. In the uproar, I vaguely
heard mention of his coming out with two versions of “Tea Folly”.
“What?” I asked, “Did Hector say he’s coming in two versions?”
“No!” cackled Cocky hysterically, “he’s coming in two virgins!”
That brought the house down. The popat always knows.
