A Chronicle of Khalistan

Aug 1983

My sister got married in 1983. I was then posted on board a Landing Ship (Tank) in Visakhapatnam on the East Coast. Far away in a distant land, one Mr Bhindranwale was making a bid for Khalistan and had gathered considerable media attention and disdain. I had no particular opinion or say in his affairs, but for some inexplicable reason I got linked to him and almost landed in jail.  This was also a time when the detritus of my imperial adventures was in full throttle. It happened like this.

At the start of the year, the ExO dutifully collected the leave forecast of all officers, with a promise to give everybody his full quota of annual leave, subject to service exigencies. I had asked for 20 days leave starting about 15 days before my sister's marriage and made my rail booking for Pune well in time. As luck would have it, my ship had to take part in an exercise and returned just two days before the wedding date. I was left with no choice but to board the train a few hours after the ship returned to Vizag , without a ticket or reservation on a journey lasting nearly 48 hours.

My Dad was very fond of the naval uniform and wrote to me saying that I should attend the Church ceremony in my ceremonial dress with ceremonial sword, peak cap and medals. I figured that if I carried only my uniform without additional encumbrances, I would be okay sitting in the passage way of the second class Sleeper bogie, on my small suitcase. Armed with a bottle of rum (for the TC), my suitcase with ceremonial rig, and my ceremonial sword wrapped in newspaper, I boarded the Minar Express at 0200 hrs that morning. The TC finally agreed to allow me to sit in a corner of the passageway for the bottle of rum and all the cash that I was carrying in my wallet (about 500 bucks). In my bachelor days, when travelling I always lived in the hope that I would find myself seated next to the most beautiful girl. It never happened. Usually it was a mid-fifties man who would spread himself over my seat and eat peanuts, while dropping the shells on the floor. In the present case I was given a small square on the floor, outside the lavatory.

It was the summer season. After having spent about 36 hours I was beginning to suffocate in the sweltering heat and also dose off. So I took off my shirt and shoes, made a temporary bed with newspapers and decided to take a brief nap. I had used the suitcase as a pillow and clutched on to my sword while sleeping. The train arrived at Pune Station at 2 AM. When I woke up, I discovered to my horror that my shirt and shoes had been stolen. The sword and suitcase were safe. I soon got off the train bare footed, but couldn't leave the platform because the TC was checking tickets at the main gate. So I cut across the broken fence in the far side of the station and hailed a rickshaw. Seeing me exit from the broken fence, barefeet and sword in hand, the rickshawalla stopped and looked at me curiously.

Rickshaw: "Yeh kya hai?

Me: "Talwar hai"

Rickshaw:  "Baal katwaye ho kya?"

I thought it was a strange question to ask, but I replied "Haan ji"

(Naval officers keep cutting their hair every now and then for no apparent reason.)

Instead of taking me home, he drove me straight to the police station that was down the road from my house, ran inside to fetch the cop and began yelling at the top of his voice "Khalistani hai! Khalistani Hai! Talwar lekar ghoom raha hai!" I was totally taken aback.

The cop on duty was a potbellied man and was wafting around in his own personal cloud of 'Mosambi' fumes. He ordered me out of the rickshaw and when I stepped out, the rickshawalla took off like the breeze, without demanding his fare. The cop then jaywalked back into the Police Station and began questioning me. The line of questioning went something like this:

Cop: "Kaun Ho?"

Me: "Main Fauji hu. Navy mein officer hu."

Cop: "Kaunse Navy Ka?"

Me: "Indian Navy Ka"

Cop: "Apne aap ko dhekha hai? Peir nanga hai, badan nanga hai, haat me talwar hai, aur apne aap ko navy aaficer boolata hai?"

He had a point! After three days of misery, I was teetering on the edge of a beard and not looking my romantic best. Something had to be done to get this monkey off my back, I thought. Not only was I looking bad, I was also feeling completely emasculated.   I suddenly realised that I had my I-card firmly secured around my neck. So I showed it to him.

Cop: Ye Kya? Ye nahin chalega. Jail me jaana padega!

I then explained to him that I was robbed enroute to Pune and was returning home on official leave. But he insisted on a bribe. In a country that invented the 'Baksheesh' and Chai-paani ka paisa, the Cop was fully within his jurisdiction to demand compensation to resolve any non-issue. I reasoned to myself that if I didn't create a propitious environment now then the prospect of reaching home in time and making this the maddest-merriest day in my life, would be lost forever. I had nothing to give him so I made him an offer that would put a grin on his stupid face. I decided to upend the royal tradition of the Gonsalves aristocracy of arriving home fully dressed (as any naval officer in his right mind should do) and instead report in the buff.

Me: "Theek Hai! Mein apna pant utaar kar yehi chod deta hoo aur nange badan ghar chale jaata hu"

And I began to undress. NDA teaches you a great deal of bravado.

Cop: (Absolutely shocked): "Nahi, Nahi. Lekin kal aake paise jaroor chod dena!"

This clinched the deal. The cop let me off, with a promise to compensate him the next day. That day I had an unforgettable homecoming.   That little walk home, in the middle of the night, from the police station to my house, may not make it to the history books, but it did make it into my little book and hopefully into the hearts and minds of people who read this script, to have a hearty laugh.

Before the Forth Pay Commission young Lieutenants like me were as poor as church mice.  Senior Officers would regularly motivate us to work for honour, prestige, pride and other abstract entities. Things have vastly improved in the Services now. A lieutenant can well afford to catch a flight while proceeding on leave. Also, bookings can be done via the internet. More importantly, Commanding Officers should realise the importance of better organisational planning so that personal planning doesn't always take a hit.