(On 23rd April 18, on my Facebook group ‘Main Shayar To Nahin‘, I started a new series. Here is the fifth one of the series)
वोट वालो ज़रा होशियार
कांग्रेस के हैं PM उम्मीदवार,
हमें कहते हैं पप्पू गँवार,
कांग्रेस के हैं PM उम्मीदवार।
वोट वालो..
काम हमारा सबको हंसाना,
जबसे सीखा ज़ुबान चलाना,
हमसे जो टक्कर लेने आये,
हम हैं उनको भी हँसाये।
Cartoons में हमारी जयकार,
कांग्रेस के हैं PM उम्मीदवार।
वोट वालो…
जब भी हमने मूँह है खोला,
जैसे बोतल में coca cola;
झाग बेअंत निकलती जाए,
कोई मतलब समझ न पाए।
आगे पीछे हमारी सरकार,
कांग्रेस के हैं PM उम्मीदवार।
वोट वालो….
These poems are for my close friend Maj Vishwas Mandloi’s delightful group of tipplers called i-peg. One has to raise a toast to the committed lot for their single-minded aim of spreading cheers!
(On 23rd April 18, on my Facebook group ‘Main Shayar To Nahin’, I started a new series. Here is the third one of the series)
मेरे जेब का नोट और तेरे हाथ के वोट का,
बोल वोटर बोल संगम होगा के नहीं – 2
“नहीं, कभी नहीं”
कितने चुनाव लड़ चुका हूँ इस गद्दी को पाने में,
हर बार डिपाजिट लूज़ किया है इस सपने सुहाने में,
बैंक का बढ़ता लोन कभी कम होगा के नहीं,
बोल वोटर बोल संगम होगा के नहीं….
“जा, जा”
दो नदियों का मेल अगर इतना पावन कहलाता है,
क्यों न जहां राजनीतिक दल मिलते हैं, स्वर्ग वहां बस जाता है,
नोट से काम न चला तो व्हिस्की रम होगा के नहीं,
बोल वोटर बोल संगम होगा के नहीं..
“ऊंह”
एक बार मुझको मौका दो पावर में आ जाने का,
फिर देखो मैं टूर करूँगा सारे ही ज़माने का,
इस से आपकी प्रॉब्लम का हल होगा के नहीं,
बोल वोटर बोल संगम होगा के नहीं…
“जाओ न, क्यों सताते हो, होगा, होगा, होगा”
I have this Facebook group called ‘Main Shayar To Nahin‘. Unlike many other groups on Shair-o-Shayari with members running into tens of thousands, I am very cautious about adding members. Following is the description:
“A group for Nazams, Ghazals and Shayari (but not songs). You can either upload your own or of a poet/writer. This is indeed a group for earnest fans of good and serious poetry. YOU SHOULDN’T BE JOINING IT IF YOU ARE ONLY INTO FRIVOLOUS, COPY-PASTE, FAST-FOOD EQUIVALENT IN SHAIR – O – SHAYARI.
Please avoid:
1. Greetings except in poetry.
2. Religious posts including pictures of gods and goddesses.
3. Pornographic, obscene or vulgar stuff.
4. Irrelevant stuff such as sharing phone numbers and ‘Hi, anyone from Pahargang?'”
On the 19 Jan 18, I started with a regular ‘Sher Of The Day’ penned by me. I shall be doing a weekly compilation of those too on this blog. Three days later, on 22 Jan 18, I started with another series ‘Hasya Panktiyan of the Day’. I am doing a weekly compilation of those that are not long enough to stand as separate posts. This is the fourth one:
Hasya Panktiyan of the Day #39
शादी के बाद पड़ गया उनको भी रोना,
जिन्हें बीवी नज़र आती थी चांदी या सोना,
बर्तन और कपड़े धोने में वह माहिर हैं अब,
जिन्हे कभी हाथ तक भी आता न था धोना।
Hasya Panktiyan of the Day #40
रात ख्यालों में वह आयी सांस रुक गयी,
कांपते लबों की प्यास बुझ गयी;
भारी भरकम बदन पेड़ पर जब बैठा,
हर शाख पेड़ की खुद बा खुद झुक गयी।
(Clipart courtesy: pngtreee)
Hasya Panktiyan of the Day #41
काश उन्हें रोक लेता आने से पहले,
और सोच लेता तसवीर बनाने से पहले;
लेकिन क्या करूँ मेरी किस्मत ही ऐसी थी,
देख लिया उनको मैने नहाने से पहले।
Hasya Panktiyan of the Day #42
ज़ालिम तूने मुझे कर दिया है तबाह,
रात से अब हौले हौले हो गयी है सुबह;
तेरे पैर दबाते दबाते थक गए हैं हाथ,
और यह करने की तू देती नही कोई तनख्वाह।
Hasya Panktiyan of the Day #43
बहुत अरसे से वह आये नहीं इधर,
जो ले गए थे मुझसे उधार,
रह रह के मैं देखता हूँ उधर,
पैसे ले के जहां हुए थे वो फरार।
Hasya Panktiyan of the Day #44
खुदा के बाद उनका ही नाम आता था लब पे,
पर एक दिन उनकी बहन को देख जो लिया;
अब भी बीवी दूसरे नंबर पर ही है,
और साली को कहते हैं: या खुदा, या खुदा।
Hasya Panktiyan of the Day #45
आखिर उसने दे ही दिया नज़राना,
सिखा दिया शौहर को रोटी बनाना;
लेकिन पूरा हुनर उसने फिर भी न दिया,
अपने हाथ में रखा बेलन चलाना।
I have a Facebook Group on Humour in the Indian armed forces titled ‘Humour In And Out Of Uniform’ (the acronym HIAOOU has become a popular greeting between the members of the group close to 25000). The group encourages original anecdotes concerning humour. Even after more than three years of its inception, the group gets, on an average four to five original posts everyday.
Sometimes, of course, I get more than my hands full (in order to discourage spam and nonsensical posts, I have instituted pre-approval of admins for all posts; my course mate Balasubramaniam Mariappan and I are the admins).
This post came about when recently there was a spate of posts; we were inundated:
I am reminded of this lady complaining to another, “I don’t know what’s wrong with my husband? On Sunday I made carrots; he relished them and told me so. On Monday, I made carrots; he found them very tasty. On Tuesday, he appreciated my carrots. On Wednesday, he liked them. On Thursday, he said they were alright. On Friday, he suddenly picked up the dish of carrots and threw it down. I can’t understand him”!
And pray, why was she serving him carrots with such devotion? Simple, she had received them in Entitled Rations or RIK (Rations in Kind)!
These Rations in Kind introduced in 1979-80 for the armed forces personnel, changed the lifestyle of services officers forever. Here is a scenario that actually happened many times:
Let’s say you got fed up of eating brinjals at home because RIK issue centre suddenly gave you 2.5 Kgs of brinjals. So, you rang up your best friend’s wife, “Nisha, Lyn and I are coming over to have dinner at your place.” Chances were that Nisha too would serve you brinjals; having received them too from the RIK. There was no getting away from brinjals and RIK!
Now, of course, in the Navy at least, we have sorted out the quality of rations. At one time, these were generally of such poor quality that we thought of ways and means of getting rid of them. It is about that time that I was made member of a board for fixing rates of fresh provisions from the local market. I am a communicator and hence very well conversant with the security classifications in the Navy. In routine communications, the highest that we go to is CONFIDENTIAL (Please also read ‘Armed Forces’ Penchant For Secrecy’). However, to my shocked surprise, the proceedings of this board were marked ‘SECRET’ by the ASC guys and the President of the Board, a Colonel. I laughingly told my wife, that evening, about how ludicrous I found that proceedings of board to decide on rates of provisions should be ‘SECRET’. She told me that that afternoon only she had got the rations from the RIK and she understood as to why they won’t want anyone to know that we were getting such poor rations. There was thus some method in the madness of the ASC guys, after all.
On one occasion, my wife was complaining about the poor quality of RIK in a gathering of ladies. She particularly mentioned about carrots being of poor quality. There was this Admiral’s wife who added her two bit how half of them were mildewed. Lyn later told me at home that RIK issue centre should at least supply the right stuff to Admiral’s houses. She was taken aback when I told her that Admirals were not actually entitled to these rations!
(Pic courtesy: knowandamans.com)
Rations are not the only things that are uniform in the uniformed armed forces. Most of us visit the same places and pick up similar things; eg, from Srinagar and North-East. Hence, give or take a few things here and there, most drawing rooms look alike.
In the Navy, for example, at one time, you would find Mauritius sofa sets in many drawing rooms and centre tables made from ‘Paduak’ – Andaman’s well known, premier wood, especially from Chatham Saw Mill in Port Blair.
खुश थे जब जेब में न होते थे पैसे,
अब हैं तो कुछ अजीब लोग मिले हैं ऐसे I
हर चीज़ खरीदने पे लगा दिया है महसूल,
और कहा के यही है कफ़ायत का असूल,
तुम्हारे पैसे पे मुल्क का भी उतना ही है हक़,
जितना औरत का मर्द की कमाई पे है मरने तक I
देश को ज़रुरत है देश वासी हों तुम जैसे I
खुश थे जब जेब में न होते थे पैसे,
अब हैं तो कुछ अजीब लोग मिले हैं ऐसे I
पहले थोड़े में गुज़ारा था, ज़रूरतें भी थीं कम,
बीवी को रोज़ सैर पे ले जाया करते थे हम,
अब ब्यूटी पार्लर का हो गया है आना जाना,
मल्टी प्लेक्स में पिक्चर और होटलों में खाना I
क्या सुहाने दिन थे गरीबी के, बीत गए वह कैसे?
खुश थे जब जेब में न होते थे पैसे,
अब हैं तो कुछ अजीब लोग मिले हैं ऐसे I
पहले वज़ीर आज़म दूर से ही नज़र आते थे,
मुँह पे लगा के ताला, कुछ भी न सुनाते थे I
उनका मुँह न खुला जब वज़ीर पूरा खेत चर गए,
और देश की जागीर अपनी तजोरियों में भर गए I
अब जाने मन की बात सुनाने आ जाते हैं कैसे?
खुश थे जब जेब में न होते थे पैसे,
अब हैं तो कुछ अजीब लोग मिले हैं ऐसे I
पहले होनहार पुलिस वालों को सौ दो सो का था इंतज़ार,
अब उन्हें पता है जेब में नोट हैं गुलाबी दो हज़ार I
पहले बद-अमली नेता और उनके मुलाज़िम भी थे भोले,
अब हमारे पुराने हज़ार ओ पांच सौ के नोट देख कर बोले:
“लगता है खाली हाथ आ गए हो जैसे I”
खुश थे जब जेब में न होते थे पैसे,
अब हैं तो कुछ अजीब लोग मिले हैं ऐसे I
क्या होगा इस मुल्क का, कभी आता है ख़याल,
हर एक के होंठों पे बस एक ही है सवाल:
क्या हमारा किरदार नोटबंदी से बदल जाएगा,
या कुछ सालों बाद वह पल भी आएगा,
जब इंक़लाब के बिना कुछ न बदलेगा ऐसे,
खुश थे जब जेब में न होते थे पैसे,
अब हैं तो कुछ अजीब लोग मिले हैं ऐसे I
उठो तुम्हें तुम्हारा ईमान बुला रहा है,
मुल्क की सरहद पे खड़ा जवान बुला रहा है:
“मुल्क की हिफाज़त सिर्फ मेरा ही नहीं है फ़र्ज़,
मुल्क और भारत माँ का तुम पे भी है क़र्ज़ I ”
आओ सब मिल के देश को बचाएं,
जितना हमारे हक़ का है बस उतना ही खाएं I
बद इखलाकी लोगों की कर दो वोट – बंदी,
ता के दुबारा न आये इस मुल्क में नोटबंदी I
(Cartoon courtesy: indiandefencenews.com)
Khush the jab jeb mein na hote the paise,
Ab hain to kuchh ajeeb log mile hain aise.
Har cheez khareedne pe laga diya hai mahsool,
Aur kaha hai ke yahi hai kafaayet ka asool,
Tumhaare paise pe mulk ka utna hi hai haq,
Jitna aurat ka mard ki kamaayi pe hai marne taq,
Desh ki zaroorat hai desh waasi hon tum jaise,
Khush the jab jeb mein na hote the paise,
Ab hain to kuchh ajeeb log mile hain aise.
Pehle thode mein guzaara tha, zaroorten bhi thin kam,
Biwi ko roz sair pe le jaaya karte the ham,
Ab Beauty Parlour ka ho gaya hai aana jaana,
Multiplex mein picture aur hotlon mein khaana.
Kyaa suhaane din the gareebi ke, beet gaye woh kaise?
Khush the jab jeb mein na hote the paise,
Ab hain to kuchh ajeeb log mile hain aise.
Pehle wazeer azam door se hi nazar aate the,
Moonh pe laga ke taala, kuchh bhi na sunaate the.
Unka moonh na khula jab wazeer pura khet char gaye,
Aur desh ki jaagir apni tajoriyon mein bahr gaye.
Ab jaane Man Ki Baat sunaane aa jaate hain kaise?
Khush the jab jeb mein na hote the paise,
Ab hain to kuchh ajeeb log mile hain aise.
Pehle honhaar police waalon ko sau do sau ka tha intezaar,
Ab unhen pata hai jeb mein note hain gulaabi do hazaar.
Pehle bad-amli neta aur unke mulazim bhi the bhole,
ab hamaare puraane hazaar aur paanch sau ke note dekh kar bole:
“Lagta hai khaali haath aa gaye ho jaise”.
Khush the jab jeb mein na hote the paise,
Ab hain to kuchh ajeeb log mile hain aise.
Kya hoga is mulk ka, kabhi aata hai khyaal,
Har ek ke honthon pe bus ek hi hai sawaal:
Kya hamaara kirdaar notebandi se badal jaayega,
Yaa kuchh saalon ke baad woh bhi pal aayega,
Jab inqlaab ke bina kuchh na badlega aise.
Khush the jab jeb mein na hote the paise,
Ab hain to kuchh ajeeb log mile hain aise.
Utho tumhen tumhaara imaan bula raha hai,
Mulk ki sarhadd pe khada jawan bula raha hai:
“Mulk ki hifaazat sirf mera hi nahin hai farz,
Mulk aur Bharat Maa ka tum pe bhi hai karz.”
Aao sab milke desh ko bachaayen,
Jitna hamaare haq ka hai bus utna hi khaayen.
Bud-ikhlaaqi logon ki kar do vote-bandi,
Taa ke dobaara na aaye is mulk mein notebandi.
This article is written in jest only. When we were in the Navy, many of us were at the receiving end of a number of these weirdos’ intended or unintended jest. It is, therefore, alright to recall some of their eccentricities in sheer nostalgia. When you get a rotten tooth pulled out, you sometimes miss the slow ache the tooth used to cause and your tongue goes to the void every-time and feels its absence.
A Weirdo is a person whose dress or behaviour seems strange or eccentric. When I was in the Navy, I came across many such persons; I am sure every profession or group has at least one such person.
It is, sometimes, awkward and embarrassing to deal with weirdos. Many a times, it is downright frustrating. However, in all cases, life is interesting because of weirdos; there is always something to talk about, something to bemoan, something to be amused about.
Why am I reminded of him today? Well, recently (on the 31st May to be exact), we have a new Chief of the Naval Staff. Admiral Sunil Lanba is not a weirdo. I am reminded of the weirdo who nearly made it to the CNS. His weirdness became even more acute when he came to know that he was nearly there (by that unique navigation expression called: time and space) and yet so far (by his predecessor CNS having been kicked out by the last BJP government and thus upsetting the apple-cart or the succession plan for him).
When you become very very senior in the armed forces, succession-plan becomes your favourite plan and you would do anything to have this plan, at least, go your way (like General VK Singh did; please also read: Army Chief’s Age – The Other Issues; Hats Off To General VK Singh; and Indian Army Before And After Operation Vijay). In the last sentence, if you would have noticed, I used the expression ‘at least‘; thereby implying that all your other plans are likely to be thrown out of the porthole the moment you swallow the anchor. This is actually true since most armed forces persons are good at reinventing the wheel (Please read Reinventing The Wheel, Armed Forces Style).
This gentleman, rich in the puss that oozed out of his super-ego, in the OK Corral Model, placed himself in the center of the one-up position (quadrant) with everyone, called by Eric Berne and several other transactional analysis people as: I am OK, You are not OK position. When he talked to any of his men and women, they were made to feel smaller than worms.
He had a reason for every one of his eccentricities. A la Kejriwal style (many years before Kejriwal became a phenomenon), this gentleman had his entire command divided into just two kinds of people: those who were facing Boards of Inquiry and Courts Martial for such serious crimes as having taken a few kgs of extra chicken for themselves or for their ships; and those who conducted these BoIs and CMs (whilst awaiting their own turn for sitting on the other side). He gave the reason for each one of these: ‘If I can’t trust him with chicken, how can I trust him in war?’
Another of his fads was to investigate (more torturous than the Spanish Inquisition) from which of the Ship’s Funds were Greeting Cards paid for; which he termed as “utterly wasteful expenditure”. Most of us had learnt the hard way never to send him any greetings whatsoever. However, youngsters sometimes didn’t know about such embargoes. One of my young commanding officers once sent him a New Year Greeting card. I was immediately summoned to his office to participate in the Inquisition. It went like this:
Rich-in-puss: “What’s this?” (he asked pointing derisively towards the offending card on the table) Me (Poor in everything including puss): “Looks like a greeting card, Sir”. (I silently prayed that it should be none of my men/women. God, didn’t listen to me that day.) Rich-in-puss: “It is a New Year greeting card sent to me by your CO_____”. Me (with resolve): “Give me sometime, Sir. I shall investigate and find out”.
He dismissed me with the sway of his hand, which I was quick to translate as: you can’t be trusted to find out even the most basic things; but, nevertheless, go and do your bit whilst I conduct my independent investigation into this very serious misdemeanour.
Just one hour later I was back. It was obvious from the expression on his face that his independent investigators had also given him similar report. I mentioned to him with unconcealed glee that CO____ had actually purchased the greeting cards with his own money.
My glee was short-lived when I heard him thus, “It is still utter wasteful expenditure. We are living in a country that doesn’t have resources to feed millions of poor or to give them shelter. And here we have CO____ indulging in such ostentatious splurging of money as to send greeting cards. Put a stop to this immediately.”
After returning to office, it was now my turn to summon CO____. I told him: “When the greeting mood ever overwhelms you, as it does with so many human beings who are humane, you should send these to people in all corners of the world but never – please say after me N-E-V-E-R, never – to the C-in-C or any of his friends or kith and kin, near or distant. I also have to discuss the forthcoming sailing and exercise programme with you. But, first let this important lesson sink in with you and we could discuss those relatively less important issues after the sailing tomorrow.”
The Rich-in-puss had indefatigable energy though. Let us say you are CO of a Seaward Defence Boat (SDB) and your SDB is deployed for patrol in the Palk Bay. Lets say you, during this patrol, start feeling really important as a CO with nothing between you and the skies, nothing around and below you but the sea. Suddenly you hear a whirring sound. Lo and behold a Chetak helicopter hovers over you. Who do you see winching down from the helo? You guessed it; the C-in-C himself to remind you of your smallness. As you go to bed that night, one thought that calls for your attention, like the whirring of the helicopter is: there is no escape from God and C-in-C; He is everywhere.
One such incident took place with me too. One day I had an ex colleague of mine who had flown into the port with his Islander aircraft. I was going to sail with my flotilla. I arranged with D to have an Islander sortie with us to exercise avanguard procedure with us (to provide attack information to my missile boats; they with their low freeboards being unable to get target information at long ranges on their own radars). We exercised with D for many runs. At the end of the day, since my ETA (Expected Time of Arrival) at the port was drawing close, I altered the course of the Flotilla to head home. D still had some more time with us. Hence, I instructed D on the net, to provide us with target information in the direction of the port. He insisted on targets in the opposite direction. I thought he was not understanding my intention and hence, over the net, I used my call-sign as Senior Officer to direct him to go the other way. To my frustration, he used a strange call-sign to tell me that he was going ahead with the earlier targets. We went through the call-sign book and found it was C-in-C’s. D told me later that he was on the runway, about to take off for us, when he saw C-in-C’s car approaching. C-in-C got into the other seat and breezily told him, “Lets go”!
Islander aircraft of the Indian Navy
I was reminded of a lady complaining to the lift operator, after pressing the button for the lift several times, “Where have you been?” And the lift-operator replying, “Ma’am, where can you go in a lift?” Similarly, we in the Fleet and the Flotilla, were never too far from the Rich-in-puss.
In the definition of a weirdo in the beginning, I had said that Weirdo is a person whose dress or behaviour seems strange or eccentric. You would have noticed that I concentrated only on the behaviour. Here is about the dress.
The dress that was his favourite was Dress #8 or white shorts and shirt and white stockings for officers and blue stockings for sailors. Before he made this dress compulsory for all ships and submarines, the daily orders would read ‘Dress for the Day’ as ‘No.8s/8As’, the latter being with white trousers. Hence. there was a choice given. Rich-in-puss felt that giving choice was akin to losing total control, a la Asrani, the angrezon-ke-zamaane ka jailer in the 1975 movie Sholay. Hence, personnel had no choice but to be wearing it day after day. He himself wore it except whilst sleeping and bathing. Once he called on the Governor of Tamilnadu, Justice M Fathima Beevi, dressed in his shorts, shirt and stockings. She was totally scandalized, she not being used to the nautical manner of dressing. Her tenure lasted for four and half years. She declined to meet any other navy officer during this period lest she should be exposed to further mortification.
Weirdos generally have other outstanding attributes. People like me, for example, grudgingly admitted that he had elephantine memory, remarkable intelligence, professionalism and all other qualities that make great leaders. However, it is a fact that we do remember weirdos more for their idiosyncrasies than for those other attributes. In this particular case, except for the fact that he totally destroyed you in case you ever differed with him, he didn’t mean any other harm to you.
During his farewell, he gave the Command an empty bottle of champagne, glass-cased. He said this was the same bottle that he had with his officers when it was rumoured that he wasn’t making it to a Rear Admiral from a Captain!
This is in good humour and should be read in that spirit only:
The year is 2023. In a solemn ceremony, veterans (those who are stll alive, that is) have gathered fondly at the venue of their fiercest and bitterest campaign field; not Kargil, not Poonchh or Khemkaran, not even at Siachen, but, at Jantar Mantar. They are celebrating the golden jubilee of their campaign to restore OROP that was taken away from them in 1973.
I am just about to touch seventy but there is still enthusiasm in covering mammoth events and rallies.
I overhear an old veteran telling another with immense satisfaction, “We were lucky that although we won the Kargil War in 1999, lost and wounded nearly 2000 soldiers and it was indeed a great victory, the government of India still didn’t punish us as they did after 1971 War.”
To this, one really old veteran, barely able to stand even with his walking stick, responds, “Indira Gandhi was different. Her way of rewarding the victors in war was to reduce their pensions. But, thankfully she didn’t follow in the footsteps of emperor Shahjehan who cut off the hands of the chief architect who made the Taj Mahal”.
Now, it is the turn of the first veteran to interject: “Yeah, she was a kind lady. No wonder the Congress refers to her as Priyadarshini (delightful to look at).”
They would have continued on and on like…like…well, like talking old soldiers but then Major General Satbir Singh, SM, OM, Retd., arrived at the venue. If you are wondering what OM is, it is an OROP Medal that the government introduced in the year 2016, just to keep the agitators in good humour. This medal, the government was proud of proclaiming, had been made after melting all the other medals that the veterans returned in end 2015, showing their displeasure at the government’s apathy towards veterans.
Soon after that babus, police and para-military personnel demanded OM to be given to them too. The government had tough time reasoning with them that they couldn’t have their cake and eat it too; or in other words, have OROP as well as OM. As always, babus, police and para military personnel were not convinced and demanded that the government should give them too adequate medals so that they too have something to return when they don’t get what they want.
General Satbir is old but his face still has that glow and his eyes still have the glint that only those have who believe in honest and straightforwardness and for the cause of their men more than for themselves.
The shouts of, “Sadda haq, itthe rakh” ( Our right, give it now) fill the air. It has been a great war-cry. JP Dutta, the veteran film-maker, in the year 2019 made a movie with this title. The movie had remake of a popular fauji song: ‘Sandeshe aate hain, hamen tadpaate hain’ to tell the plight of the veterans receiving messages from the Prime Minister Narendra Modi that finally the full OROP was just around the corner but the veterans still not seeing light across the tunnel.
Sandeshe aate hain, hamen tadpaate hain (Cartoon courtesy: sainikdarpan.blogspot.com)
It is 14th Aug 2023 and they find an extremely frail, 91 years old, Grenadier Vishambar Singh, stumbling across to the venue with a naked torso. General Satbir noticing him shirtless asks, “Vishambar ji aap shirt ghar bhool aaye, kyaa?” (Vishambar ji, you forgot your shirt at home, or what?)
Vishambhar replies, “Nahin saab ji; kal azaadi diwas hai. Aath saal pehle, aaj ke din, pulsiyon ne mil ke meri shirt faad di thi. Ab saab ji itane paise to nahin hai jo har saal nayi shirt banwaayun. Isliye ghar chhod ke aaya hoon.” (No, Sahib ji; tomorrow is the Independence Day. Eight years ago, the police tore my shirt (here). Now, Sahib ji, I don’t have enough money to buy a new shirt every year. That’s why I left it at home.)
Colonel Kaul whispers from behind General Satbir Singh, “Theek hai. But, we should be ashamed. Men are losing their shirts and sleep over OROP but the blasted OROP is nowhere in sight.”
General Satbir, “I have been told it is just around the corner now. They have nearly sorted out the VRS issue by coming up with a formula that decides your share of OROP depending upon your medical category, age, retirement age, rank and number of years left for superannuation. Of course, it would still be denied to you if you don’t follow the family planning norms. That’s the latest clause introduced by the babus“.
In the background, a reporter is heard talking to a Times of India reporter, “Massive rally by the veterans. I hope this time, at least; you are going to cover it”. The ToI reporter replies, “We have normally been giving it space next to the Obituary column as both are serious and dead issues. Let me see, if someone dies we shall give adequate cover to his body and to this grave issue”.
Just then a plush limousine slides to a halt in front of Jantar Mantar. A happy veteran alights in his worsted suit, gold tie-pin etc. All the other veterans are agog with envy and ask, “So, you actually got arrears of OROP, did you?”
“Nothing of that sort” the wealthy veteran replies, “I took General Satbir’s call for Black Diwali seriously. I invested, in the last eight years, money saved from lamps and crackers, in Narendra Modi’s Achhe Din Aa Rahen Hain Fund (Happy Days Are Coming Fund). The bourses gave me hundred to one on my betting correctly on the outcome of the promise and the fund. I also bought 100 shares of Mann Ki Baat Radio Services at 10 rupees a share. Each one is a lakh rupees a piece now.”
Ninety-one year old Vishambar starts crying uncontrollably. He lost his shirt for nothing.
I am reminded of this lady complaining to another, “I don’t know what’s wrong with my husband? On Sunday I made carrots; he relished them and told me so. On Monday, I made carrots; he found them very tasty. On Tuesday, he appreciated my carrots. On Wednesday, he liked them. On Thursday, he said they were alright. On Friday, he suddenly picked up the dish of carrots and threw it down. I can’t unders
Let’s say you got fed up of eating brinjals at home because RIK issue centre suddenly gave you 2.5 Kgs of brinjals. So, you rang up your best friend’s wife, “Nisha, Lyn and I are coming over to have dinner at your place.” Chances were that Nisha too would serve you brinjals; having received them too from the RIK. There was no getting away from brinjals and RIK!
