An Officer and a Gentleman: Heart to heart with a Soldier

“Can you turn that thing off?”—the young officer requests…rather insists.

My mind flies back in time. “Ay! Light bandh karo!”—an ominous voice starts ringing in my ears.

It was the early nineties. Trouble in the North-eastern state of Assam was blown out of proportion with the large-scale deployment of the Indian Army in order to carry out counter-insurgency operations. What followed was a decade-long saga of encounters, ambushes and wild manhunts under operations Bajrang, Rhino and Sher-dil. Collateral damage was more than expected: a fact that tarnished the image of the army among the local populace. The army came to be looked upon with fear and anger. Yet, there was a young generation that was old enough to be awed by the Kalashnikov wielding Men in Green, but too young to understand the politics behind them.

It was during those years of turmoil that the incident that I vividly remember, happened. We were on our way to another town. The night was dark. Suddenly we were stopped by a posse of army-men. One of them approached our car, and in a hoarse tone, told my father to switch off the head-lights. There were other vehicles too, ahead of us. We all were stranded on the highway. After an agonising wait of more than half an hour, we heard staccato bursts at a distance. It went on for around fifteen minutes. After that, everything was silent. After another hour, we were told to move ahead.

I recently heard of a young army officer from Assam who is posted in the Kashmir valley. I don’t know that many young men of my age from my state joining the Indian Army. Many youngsters like me are of the view that the army offers you a life of hardships and perpetual danger. Intrigued, I decided to meet him.

His persona did not fit the image of an army officer that was there in my mind. To me, an army officer has always been a giant-looking man with a hoarse voice and handlebar moustache. This guy was clean shaven, youthful in his conduct, and looked good in casuals. He seemed all pepped up to talk about his life; but the moment I took out the Dictaphone, he became extra conscious. Someone had said a long time back that a soldier finds courage if he sees an enemy with a gun, but loses it if he sees someone with a microphone. He looked around the place. He looked uncomfortable. Normally, guys behave like that when they go out on their first date. But this guy is no ordinary guy—he is a commissioned officer in the Indian Army. And it was no date either; it was a rendezvous with a wannabe journalist who was himself looking for his fifteen minutes of fame.

Why do people join the army? For thrill?

“I never looked for a job. I was after a life that I always wanted. After some heart-searching, I realised that it was the army that could give me that. Today, I can say that I am content with my life. Army is not a profession for me; it is a way of life.”

People of the Northeast have outgrown the pain and anger of the past. Many are swelling the ranks of the armed forces in great numbers now. Same is the story in the Kashmir valley.

“This is my first posting in the valley, and for the first time I am getting to spend my time with my men in a “field” situation. I am getting to see what the Indian Army is doing in the valley. Life in the valley is not as bad as you think. It’s exciting! It does get frustrating at times, as you are totally cut-off from your family and friends. Still, the valley is a beautiful place. Had it not been for the army, I don’t know if I would have ever got a chance to be in Kashmir.”

As we ordered food, I remembered a scene from the movie Border (released a decade ago) where Akshaye Khanna trembles at the thought of killing someone.

“It will be Karma and Dharma for me. I am not a trigger-happy person, so I wouldn’t like to kill someone just for the heck of it. But if it is required, I will do that. It’s a part of my profession. But I am yet to see real action.”—he continued to stare at the recorder while answering.

When I was young, I was fascinated by the armed forces. All those Commando comics are still stacked up in my study. As I grew up, the interest waned, maybe because I was not comfortable with the idea of leading a hard life. In my time, ambushes and encounters were common in the Northeast. Many a times, youngsters like me saw the corpses of dead soldiers and civilians smeared in blood. But what disturbed me most was the thought of losing some friend in some encounter.

“I did lose a friend. He was my immediate junior in the IMA and a Gentleman Cadet. He died in a grenade explosion during a training session. His name was Bir Tiwari. It was in the news, you must have heard about it. It came to me like a rude shock. I haven’t been able to accept his death till today. You get such kind of a bonding only in the army.”

My parents used to make faces whenever I used to talk about joining the army. It takes you away from your family, they would say.

“Of course, I miss my family. I don’t get to talk to them often, as the connectivity in the valley is very poor. The Govt. of India is not doing anything to provide better connectivity there. But I am moving out of the Counter Insurgency (CI) area into the LOC (Line of Control). I am going to get a satellite phone there with which I can constantly be in touch with my family.”

Meanwhile, food was served on our table. The aroma of kadhai chicken delighted us! I remembered my first date. But we had butter chicken. Those days were fun! I believe you learn a lot about life from your relationships.

“Oh…I am single as of now. My first relationship happened during my college days at Fergussons, Pune. It ended within a year. The second relationship didn’t work out and resulted in a mutually-agreed-upon break-up. The only good thing about it is that we still are good friends” I could make out from his words that he has always been a practical, down-to-earth guy. God cast him in the army mould, I think to myself. But I want to know about his dream woman.

“Well, she has to be pretty…very pretty…smart…presentable…you could say a head-turner”

“If you are given a choice between Katrina Kaif and Sushmita Sen, whom will you choose?”

“Katrina!” I wanted to know if Katrina’s Kashmiri origin had anything to do with his choice.

“No, man! I also like Priyanka Chopra, but she was not on your list!"—he tried to fox me, with a smile. Just then, two attractive women entered the restaurant. I wanted to know if they fell in the category of “head-turning” women.

“Certainly! And I would love to marry a woman like them!”—he was chivalrous in his reply.

As I chomped on the juice-filled chicken, my mind was filled with random thoughts. I decided to put them into words. I asked the young officer to allow me my indulgences.

“Your favourite movie in recent times?”

“Spiderman 3.”

“The worst movie you have seen of late?”

“Spiderman 3! It’s the only movie I have seen recently so my choice is limited.”

“Your favourite drink?”

“Beer”.

“Are you a party animal?”

“Oh yes, I am very much a party animal. The Rang De Basanti types: guzzling beer and taking pangas with the police.”

“Your favourite band (s)?”

“Nirvana and Cranberries.”

“Favourite song?”

“Come as you are”

“Your passions?”

“Babes and bikes. I just love Tom Cruise’s bike in Top Gun”

“Are you cynical about life?”

“Not at all! I am a very positive person. In fact, I am so positive that I am already hoping that those two women over there (pointing towards a table) will go out with me for a dance.”—we both laughed as he answered.

“So, how are your relations with your men?”—I asked him while savouring at the food.

“Fantastic! My immediate senior is like a brother to me. He even gave me his ATM card to use when I was coming down to Delhi. You don’t get to see that everyday, do you? I feel privileged to be in the army. We believe in the concept that respect is earned, not demanded. My men are important to me. Without them, I am no leader.”

Your leadership qualities are put to test in the army. Good leaders are those, it is said, who follow the orders of their seniors unquestionably, and make their juniors follow theirs without a fuss. I never wanted somebody else to “programme” my thoughts—one of the many reasons why I never joined the army.

“Nothing like that. My job as an army-man is to issue orders to my subordinates, and follow orders of my superiors. Following orders is a must in the army. We are bound by oath. We are not supposed to think over orders.”—he looked away from me, at a particular table to our right, where two young girls were sipping coke.

“But what if you are asked to do something by your senior that your conscience is totally against? What if you are asked to kill someone you don’t want to kill? What if you are asked to open fire at an unarmed crowd? Will you use your judgement then?”—my question was like a “booby-trap” for him.

“Well, sometimes you have to rely on the judgement of your superiors. Our army is very humane. We are professional soldiers, not killing machines. But we are also fallible people. We are prone to committing mistakes. I think it will be only fair if you think about us for all the good that we stand for, rather than for the mistakes that we have made.”—it was more of an appeal than a reply. But this time, he was looking straight into my eyes.

They say that army life is full of hardships. You feel that the grass is greener on the other side.

“I would have loved to draw a higher pay, going by the work we do.”

“Would you like to serve in a war theatre like Iraq?”

“I will not volunteer. We army-men are peace-loving people. But if my unit is given marching orders, I will go anywhere, even Timbuktu.”

On my way back, the handsome face of the young officer kept on floating in my mind. And the ominous voice of the army-man I encountered many years ago, kept on ringing in my ears. After a while, it faded away…

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