SALUBRIOUS WELLINGTON

The joining instructions for the Defence Services Staff College (DSSC) Course began by welcoming the students to the ‘salubrious’ climate of Wellington. It was the first time I came across this word and did not know its meaning. Being lazy to consult a dictionary (those being pre-cellphone days!), I just took it to mean something good and left it at that. As I write this post, I decided to look up my Webster’s New World College Dictionary which says it means ‘promoting health or welfare, healthful, wholesome, salutary, etc.’ I gladly endorse that Wellington is all that and more.

The final major course we had to undergo during our Sub Lts’ training in 1960 was the War Course. It introduced us to Service Writing and ended with a study of a major naval battle during the World War II followed by a presentation. Our Course was divided into three syndicates led by the brightest in the Course, Premvir Das, Vishnu Bhagwat and Ranjit Rai. I was part of Ranjit’s syndicate. Our syndicate had to study the Battle of Cape Matapan. I hit upon an idea to end our presentation with a skit in which Admirals Cunningham and Iachino of the Royal Navy and the Italian Navy respectively meet at a bar in Naples and reflect on the Battle. At the end, Admiral Iachino shouts for the missing barmaid, “Rosita, ROSITA, ROSEE-TAA, where are you?” From behind the bar rises Rosita, the profusely hairy and bearded Baksheesh Singh, “Si?” This brought the house down and earned me a first division in addition to the three leaders of the syndicates.

I was told that the War Course was a mini-DSSC Course and there would be plenty of such presentations in Wellington. From then on, I was looking forward to DSSC and was really glad when my name was finally included in the 1974 list. Also, as mentioned while writing about my childhood, I had imagined studying in Wellington University; well, if not New Zealand, the Nilgiris would do admirably!

Ours was the 30th Staff College Course and the locker no. allotted to me was 333. As 3, 6 and 9 are supposed to be my lucky numbers, I took my course and locker numbers to be welcome, auspicious signs.

Earlier, I was told that Wellington was short of housing for students and that many, particularly those with small families, would have to share accommodation. This was a cause for worry as Akhila was expecting and sharing accommodation would be undesirable. Providentially, my going late for the Course brought an unexpected benefit as accommodation was provided in accordance with seniority and being the senior most naval officer of our Course, I was allotted perhaps the best residence, Flat no. 73/3 Wellington Hall, which had been recently constructed. These flats were in blocks of four, one each on the ground and first floors with a staircase in between. They had three bedrooms each with a glass passage leading from the staircase to the drawing/dining room. As they were on the edge of a hill, the bedroom and drawing room balconies opened out to a spectacular view looking down the Coonoor valley with its tea gardens and the Ootacamund- Mettupalayam toy train. My first floor neighbour was an American Army Officer, Major Mehle who had three cute daughters aged 7, 5 and 2. On the ground floor were two air force officers, one each from Australia and India.

The Course got underway keeping us busy with tasks which had strict timelines. Soon it was March and we played Holi on Saturday the 9th. We had requested Mummy to come to Wellington to be with us before Akhila’s delivery date and on Sunday 10th we went to Coimbatore to pick her up. On Monday 11th which incidentally is our wedding anniversary, we were given the task of writing an ‘appreciation’, the first of many at the DSSC. For this exercise, one is given a warlike problem which has to be solved taking into account the given friendly and enemy forces. The key is to decide on an aim, consider various possible courses of action and finally arrive at the best course to achieve the aim. With numerous possibilities, this takes a lot of discussion and the task is complex to say the least. 

The appreciation was titled ‘The Nuclear Scientist’ and was centred around a character named Dr. Bara Bomb. We had to submit our solutions by 1 p.m. on Wednesday 13th and our wedding anniversary celebrations had to be put off till after that. 

By 12th night I had finished most of the task and went to sleep at midnight leaving the Best Course of Action and Outline Plan to be written in the morning. I got up at 6 a.m. to complete my solution. Shortly after, Akhila came to me and said her abdomen was paining. I told her to take a painkiller and go back to sleep. Soon Mummy came and said we had to take Akhila to the hospital. I protested that my solution was not yet complete but Mummy said to hell with it, we needed to go immediately.

Reluctantly, I got up, gathered my incomplete work and the three of us proceeded to the Army Hospital. Akhila was taken in for medical examination while I got back to my Outline Plan in the Waiting Room. After a while, the doctor came and said the delivery could take place in a day or two but it was preferable to admit Akhila right away. Mummy and I headed back home where I completed my exercise and just managed to submit it in the nick of time. I was very tired and Mummy was fond of her siesta, so we decided to have an afternoon nap.

At 5 p.m. we went to the Hospital and after parking my car, we started walking to the Ward. An Army colleague met us on the way and offered his heartiest congratulations. I asked him what for and he said, “Don’t you know, your wife has delivered a baby boy”. Mummy and I ran to the Ward where they had just brought Akhila and the newly born infant out of the delivery room. The delivery had taken place at 5.17 p.m.!

We were full of joy, the natural delivery had been easy and without pain and thanks to God, all was well. As decided by Mummy and Akhila earlier, the boy was named Ruchir although many of my coursemates continued to call him Bara Bomb for a long time!

Comments of my Directing Staff, Cdr PK Gupta (later Cmde), on my appreciation stated that it was logically discussed and well argued but the Plan seemed to have been written in a hurry!

A lot of people visited us to see little Ruchir but the most precious gift was brought by the sweet little Mehle girls, Ruchir’s first toy, a rubber cowboy, which continues to adorn the top shelf of his wardrobe till today. 

After a party to celebrate Ruchir’s arrival, it was back to work and the Course proceeded smoothly. Of note was the assignment of Public Speaking where each student had to give a talk of 10 minutes on a subject of his choosing. I decided to speak on the ‘Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam’. The talk went off very well and at the end of it the Chief Instructor (Navy), Cmde JG ‘Podgy’ Nadkarni, (later Admiral and Chief of the Naval Staff) said that although it was not the norm but he would make an exception and asked the audience to show their appreciation by clapping.

In spare time, there was golf to play on the scenic Wellington course. No other naval student played golf but I was invited By Cdrs Gupta and Claude Almeida to join them which I readily did. At times Cmde Nadkarni, who had just started playing, made the fourth. He used to jokingly (?) complain that when a General played, his partners would look the other way and allow him to transgress all rules and applaud but the naval guys were not so considerate and would permit no liberties to be taken on account of seniority!

We were into the horse racing season and on weekends there were Wellington Gymkhana races with DSSC officers taking part. This was followed by Ooty races and as Akhila was very fond of betting, we went up whenever we could. On the first of these, as we were walking to the track, a friend met us and advised us to put our money on a horse called Gigi. We put 10 bucks on her at 7 to 1. Gigi won a thriller and we earned Rs.70 which was blown up immediately in the Ooty bazaar. This encouraged Akhila to pursue her love of betting and I reckon she lost a lot of money. However, she assures me that on balance she was not too much in the red!

In June we got a short mid-term break and drove down to Bangalore where Akhila’s elder brother, Lieut Subhash Mehrish affectionately called Bhaiyya, was ADC to the Governor. Here too the racing season was on and we attended quite a few races.

Back to DSSC and the pace of work picked up. With Akhila busy looking after Ruchir, time just flew by and we hurtled towards the end of the Course. We were visited by the Director of Personnel from NHQ who gave me the good news of my earning the coveted ‘brass hat’ with promotion to the rank of Commander and my appointment to NHQ as Deputy Director Naval Signals.

I am not aware of the present practice but in my time at the DSSC, students were graded at the end but the gradings were not disclosed.  The CI(Navy) held individual interviews to tell each student how he had performed. His summing up to me went something like this, “I am amazed that you were not being selected for the Course. You have not only topped the Course but were on top in each tutorial. God knows how NHQ functions. I am glad I have never been posted there.”

Well, to make up for that deficiency, ‘Podgy’ Nadkarni served at the NHQ as Chief of Personnel, Vice Chief of Naval Staff and Chief of Naval Staff. I wonder though whether he brought about any worthwhile changes or was content with the status quo to go with the flow!

REVISITING MY LOVELY OLD JAIPUR

 

 

 

Jaipur has always been my first love but due to various reasons, we had to settle down in Delhi after my retirement from the Navy. Akhila loves Jaipur too and with Mummy there, we escaped to Jaipur as often as we could to get away from the hustle and bustle of Delhi. Mummy passed away in 2010 and I inherited her house. Initially there was a thought to break up the house and build a more modern one. But then, I decided to let the house remain as Mummy left it as it gives us a feeling that she is still there. We now go there almost every other month; in fact, I try to plan the trips towards the end of a month and beginning of the next one so that I can say that we are in Jaipur every month!

 

Enter the Corona factor and the lockdowns and we could not make a trip for 7 long months. I was itching to go and finally when we drove down last month, I felt like a tourist all over again revisiting the familiar sights full of sweet memories.

 

About 40 kms. short of Jaipur is the town of Achrol with a fort on a hill. Jaipur is a favourite movie location but Achrol had its share of fame with a number of scenes in the miniseries ‘Far Pavilions’ shot in and around the fort. However, Achrol is famous or infamous for something else. The story goes that if you are travelling by road and passing through Achrol, do not take its name or you are going to have a mishap. Long ago, my Mansi and Masarji had a car breakdown near Achrol. Thereafter, the story has been confirmed by many others including Capt RN Singh, Pranab Roy and a close family friend, Tej Narain Bhaisahib. All of them have had some incident or the other ranging from a puncture to a serious accident. So if you ever drive to Jaipur, be warned!

 

Six kms. short of Jaipur, we come to Amber which was the residence of Rajput Maharajas from the 10^th century to 1727. The majestic fort was built on top of the older structures in the 1600s by Maharaja Man Singh who had 12 Queens. So he had 12 rooms built for them each connected by a staircase to his quarters but the staircases were for his use only and the Queens were not allowed to use them! Later, Maharaja Jai Singh II expanded the fort and also built the Jaigarh fort visible to the left of the Amber fort at a slightly higher elevation. The two forts are connected by an underground escape passage if a need arose. Jaigarh fort houses a huge cannon which was built within the fort precincts and was in its time the world’s largest cannon on wheels.

 

Just after passing Amber centre making our way up the narrow road manoeuvring through elephants giving tourists rides, we see a ‘mazar’, holy shrine of a saint, at which a friend told us to toss a coin for good luck and we have been doing that religiously from the car.

 

We now pass through a gate which is at a height where one can pause a bit to get a bird’s eye view of the sprawling city. A little further down the road, a right turn would take you to Jaigarh and Nahargarh forts. The latter is on the highest hill near Jaipur and gives a towering view of the city. ‘Nahar’ means lion, so Nahargarh stands for ‘abode of lions’ though another story says that the name is after a Nahar Singh Bhoma whose spirit haunted the place and obstructed the construction of the fort till a temple was built on the premises to pacify the spirit. Nahargarh was built by Maharaja Jai Singh in 1734 and extensively used later by Maharaja Madho Singh to house dozens of concubines, far from the palace in Jaipur to escape the vigil of his official Ranis.

 

An interesting tale about Maharaja Madho Singh is that despite being very virile and potent and having his share of official wives and countless concubines, he left no male heir. This was because he was warned by his astrologer that if he produced a legal son, Madho Singh would die within six months. So while many boys and girls were fathered, they were all illegal and only one daughter was borne by an official Rani.

 

Continuing to Jaipur, on our left is the Kanak Vrindavan Mandir surrounded by abundant greenery. Then comes Man Sagar Lake at the centre of which is Jal Mahal, a small palace. In the evenings, locals flock to the lakeside reminding one of Bombay’s Marine Drive!

 

We pass through Zorawar Singh Gate also known as Dhruv Pole(Gate) and make our entry into the old City. Maharaja Jai Singh II was a renowned mathematician and astrologer and became a famous ruler. He had the City designed by the chief architect, Vidyadhar Bhattacharya. With its wide roads and perpendicular sidelanes, Jaipur is considered to have been the only planned city of India till Le Corbusier designed Chandigarh in the 1950s. Maharaja Jai Singh shifted the capital to the City in 1727 and the City dutifully took its name from him.

 

Later, the Maharaja went to the court of Aurangzeb and the King was so impressed by the Maharaja that he gave him the title of ‘Sawai’ saying that he was one and a quarter times any man. All the Jaipur Maharajas took the title of Sawai from then.

 

In 1876, Prince Albert, Queen Victoria’s consort, visited Jaipur and the City was painted pink to welcome him. The City has been kept pink and has been known as the ‘Pink City’ ever since.

 

Driving on, we turn right at Moti Katla Bazar and at the right corner in front of us is ‘Kale Munh’ (black faced) Hanuman mandir where you pray and whisper your wish in the ear of a priest and it will be granted. The road takes a left turn and on the right the boundary of the huge City Palace complex begins. If one were to go in, the first big building inside is Jaipur’s most famous temple, Govind Devji’s Mandir. The temple faces the City Palace from the balcony of which the Maharaja could do darshan of the deity with a telescope.

 

The City Palace to which Sawai Jai Singh II shifted his residence now has a museum and both the Palace and the museum are a must on a tourist’s agenda. For a long time in 1980s, a schoolmate and close friend, the late Yadu Sahai was the curator at the museum and occasionally took me to the Palace for a cup of coffee with Brigadier Sawai Bhawani Singh. Incidentally, Yadu’s father, Dr. Durga Sahai, was the personal physician of Sawai Man Singh, Sawai Bhawani Singh’s father.

Just outside the museum is another famous site, Jantar Mantar, the world famous observatory built by Sawai Jai Singh in 1734. It has 19 architectural astronomical instruments including the world’s largest sundial.

 

We continue our drive on the main road and come to Hawa Mahal, the iconic monument of Jaipur which is now a global symbol for the City. The magnificent structure was built in 1799 by Sawai Pratap Singh and has 365 windows with elaborate latticework, home to the Maharaja’s Ranis and concubines who could look out of the windows without being seen themselves.

 

We come to Badi Chaupar with Ramganj Bazar to the left and Tripolia Bazar to the right. We go straight on to Johari Bazar and immediately on the right is Purohitji Ka Katla, Akhila’s favourite shopping place for saris and other textiles open to hard bargaining! Then on the left is Haldion Ka Rasta where the renowned jeweller of old, Bhuramal Rajmal Surana had his haveli which was his home, shop and workplace for his artisans. He had four sons all of whom studied at St. Xavier’s and his second son, Vimal, was my classfellow. The corresponding street on the other side is Gopalji Ka Rasta which was a favourite with Mataji and Pitaji (my Nani and Nana) for delicious ‘kalakand’ and other sweets. Just outside the street is the office and shop of Durlabhjis known for their gemstone work. The well-known Rashmi Durlabhji was one year senior to me at Xavier’s and a good friend. Alas, he is no more.

 

Johari Bazar by itself can meet most of your typical Jaipur shopping requirements including kundan style jewellery, gemstones, Sanganeri and tie and dye saris, other textiles and Mojari shoes. At the centre of the Bazar is Laxmi Mishthan Bhandar to meet your chat, meal and sweet requirements including the delectable honeycomb like ‘ghevar’.

 

Towards the end of the Bazar are two Hanumanji temples facing each other, one on either side. We leave the Bazar at Sanganeri Gate and come to a T-crossing. Agra Road is to the left which can take you to two popular sites on either side of the road, Sisodia Rani Palace and garden built by Sawai Jai Singh II for his Maharani, and Vidhyadar gardens, built by the famous architect. A little beyond is the road to Galtaji known for its natural springs and a temple dedicated to the Sun god.

 

In front of Sanganeri Gate crossing is a building which was Pitaji’s High Court back in the 50s when we first came to Jaipur. Red Cross and a women’s hospital occupy it now. We turn right and have the Ram Niwas garden on our left. At the next crossing, we turn right to re-enter the old City through the New Gate and come to Chaura Rasta. To the right is a movie hall named Golcha. In my school days, it was called Prem Prakash and along with another movie hall, Man Prakash, was where we flocked to see English movies which were shown just once a week on Sunday mornings.

 

In early 1950s, an uncle of mine, Sarvesh Mamaji, opened a restaurant named Paradise opposite Prem Prakash. It didn’t last long as Sarvesh Mamaji gave too many free treats to friends and relatives including me!

 

Further up, there are shops known for the famous Jaipur razai (quilts). On the opposite side at this end of Gopalji Ka Rasta, there is a popular ‘gazak’ and ‘revri’ shop.

 

Facing us at the end of the road is Tripolia Gate which is normally closed and open only on specific occasions. A major one is probably the most famous festival of Jaipur, Gangaur, in honour of Gaura (Parvatiji), celebrated on Teej in March/April every year. Thousands of visitors, foreign and Indian, throng to the  the area to watch the large procession which starts from the City Palace, out through Tripolia Gate on to Tripolia Bazar and goes around nearly half the old city ending at Talkatora which is at the back of Govindji’s Mandir. The procession includes elephants, old palanquins, chariots and folk artistes singing and dancing away. A few years back, Akhila and I went to see the procession and ended up following it all the way to the end, quite a walk!

 

Presently, we turn left onto Tripolia Bazar with myriad shops and on the right see a monument built in 1750, ‘Swarga Suli’ meaning heaven piercing minaret, towering over the shops. We come to Chhoti Chaupar where to the left is Kishenpole Bazar. On the opposite side of the Bazar, just off the Choupar is Maharaja’s Girls’ School founded by Sawai Ram Singh in 1866. Mummy was the Headmistress of the School for 17 years in the 1950s and 60s.

 

We continue straight into Chandpole Bazar and exit the old City out the gate with the same name as the Bazar. We turn left on to Station Road and pass the Central Bus Stand and Polo Victory, our third choice of movie halls of old. The entrance of the hall was decorated with many paintings of Polo tournaments.

 

Just before the Station at which I started and ended countless train journeys, there is a big crossing and on the left is a gate which leads to a complex called Khasa Kothi. On arrival in Jaipur in 1950, Pitaji was first put up here in the State Guest House before he was allotted his own house. We spent the summer of that year here. Those days, there was a dust storm every evening and we could see it approaching minutes before it struck. Some days, there would be a ‘peeli aandhi’ (yellow storm) while on others it would be ‘kaali’ (black) depending on the colour of dust.

 

Turning sharp left, we come to the popular Mirza Ismail Road named after the Dewan of Jaipur in the 1940s whose contribution in modernising the city was invaluable. Stylish shops and eating places abound on both sides and we travel quite a bit to a well-known crossing called Paanch Batti before coming to Niro’s which in Jaipur is one of the oldest modern restaurants functioning since 1949. It was our favourite haunt known for its slurpy ice cream sundaes with exotic names such as Honeymoon Special and Knickerbocker Glory. During a recent visit, I asked the manager if they still served them and he promptly brought a tall glass of each!

 

Opposite Niro’s, there is a lassiwala who people flock to in hundreds in summer to cool down with his various brands of lassi.

 

We continue and come to Ajmeri Gate which is the other end of Kishenpole Bazar. Further down is a crossing and a police station under a clocktower with a non-working clock! Next to the police station was the old Man Prakash now replaced by a mall. The next crossing brings us back to the New Gate but this time we turn right into the gate of Ram Niwas Garden and face the splendid Albert Hall built by Sawai Ram Singh in honour of Prince Albert’s visit in 1876. It houses a museum of archaeological and handicraft items. At night it is brilliantly lit by lights changing colors every few seconds. There is also a zoo in the Garden from which in my school days I used to hear the roars of lions every night.

 

We continue straight down the long Jawahar Lal Nehru Marg till we see the Moti Dungri fort resembling a Scottish castle atop a hill. The Fort overlooks the famous Ganesh temple with an icon of Lord Ganesh over 500 years old. Next to it is the much newer Birla temple which was completed in 1985.

 

A right here leads to the Rambagh Circle and the Rambagh Palace, only it is no more a palace but a hotel. Rambagh is another palace built by Sawai Ram Singh and was a royal guesthouse and hunting lodge till Sawai Man Singh II made it his residence from 1925 to 1957. The complex also has a French style bungalow called Lily Pool which was known for Maharani Gayatri Devi’s lavish parties particularly on Sharad Poornimas. There are tennis courts also where I first saw Maharani Gayatri Devi in 1952 looking resplendent in sparkling white shirt and slacks.

 

The hotel has a Polo Bar decorated with Polo sticks, balls, trophies and paintings. Yadu and I spent many evenings enjoying a glass of beer and snacks there.

 

Further down the road are the Rajasthan Polo Club and the Rambagh Golf Club, both venues of important tournaments.

 

A right turn at the circle and we pass the High Court and the Secratariat and come to the Statue Circle which was without a statue in my school days. There was some controversy about what statue to put there but now it has one of Sawai Jai Singh II holding a large astronomical document. The Statue Circle was the chief walking location in the past till the Central Park was developed inside the Rambagh complex. Pitaji used to come to the Statue Circle regularly for his morning constitutional and I accompanied him whenever I could. It remains a tourist attraction and many still prefer to walk there.

 

We continue straight on Bhagwan Das Road and come to my alma mater, St. Xavier’s. Started in 1943 as St. Mary’s by a group of priests, Sir Mirza Ismail gave the School its present name and site in 1945 and handed over its running to the Catholic Society of Jesus. The exceptionally devoted Fathers of my time specially my first Principal, Mann, and class teachers Mackessack and Pinto, are all up in heaven but the School has kept up its good name. The imposing multi-coloured stone building to which we shifted in 1952 is itself a sight to behold.

 

We carry on and reach Paanch Batti and repeat the stretch past Niro’s upto the police station where we turn right on Sawai Ram Singh Road and pass the famous Maharani Gayatri Devi Girls’ School. This School was the brainchild of the Sawai Man Singh II who named it after his favourite Maharani. It was the first public school for girls in Rajputana, later Rajasthan. It started in 1943 with 24 girls and had a Scottish lady, Miss Lillian G. Lutter as its founder principal. Under Miss Lutter the School developed to become one of the finest educational institutions in India and the lady acquired an iconic image. She was the principal for a remarkable 37 years.

 

Up ahead are two Colleges facing each other, Maharaja and Maharani Colleges, the former for boys and the latter for girls. Maharaja College is another ancient institution founded by Sawai Ram Singh II in 1844. Maharani came into being exactly 100 years later in 1944.

 

Just before the Colleges we turn right onto Ashok Marg and then left on Mahavir Marg. We reac a circle where we turn left on Hospital Road so named because it leads to the Sawai Man Singh Hospital.

 

And so we have come on the street where we lived when Pitaji was serving as the High Court Judge in Jaipur. Our first house was No. 4 for a year and then the larger No. 3 double storey house for 4 ½ years. When we came to Jaipur, No. 3 was occupied by Dr. Katre, Chief Medical Officer, whose son later became the Chief of Air Staff. We moved in after Dr. Katre retired.

 

No. 3 had a long driveway on which my friends and I used to play Cricket. All of us were studying in St. Xavier’s and included the brothers Vinode and Pramode Pareek, Krishen Bhargava, Vinod Jain and Ashok Sarin, all staying on Hospital Road, and Suresh Pareek and Yadu Sahai from the neighborhood. While most of us were in government houses and had to move out, the Pareek brothers’ father, Dr. Prabhu Dayal, had built his own house on Hospital Road and his eldest son, Dr. Satya Narain, continues to stay there with his family and two unmarried sisters who run a children’s school. I remember the telephone no. of the Pareeks which in 1950s had just three digits, 312. Four digits have been prefixed now but the last three, 312, remain!

 

Ashok Sarin joined the Air Force but unfortunately died in an air crash shortly after. Dr. Sarda, an eminent eye specialist also had his own house there; his son, also an eye specialist, married Admiral Paintal’s daughter who we meet every year at the Jaipur Literature Festival.

 

A small lane halfway down connects Hospital Road to Vivekanand Marg where Pitaji built his own house and named it ‘Ananda’. Opposite was Dr. Shravan Lal Purohit, father of Suresh Pareek. Dr. Shravan Lal became our family doctor and Suresh took over after the old man passed away. Suresh runs a dispensary in Chandpole Bazar and his treatment is a combination of allopathy, homeopathy and ayurved. He answers our call no matter what the time and, of course, there is no question of any fee!

 

Further down Vivekanand Marg was the house of Dr. PK Sethi of the 'Jaipur Foot' fame.

 

We leave Vivekanand Marg on Sawai Ram Singh Marg and turn left and left again on Shivaji Marg. Facing us is the gate of Diggi Palace, home of Jaipur Literature Festival. There is a naval connection here as well as the Palace’s owner is Ram Pratap Singh, son-in-law of Capt RN Singh. Just before Diggi Palace, we turn left and facing us at the end of the road is the house which Mummy built and I inherited.

 

We are home.

 

Lucky me!

 

P.S. Time to blow a little of my trumpet; if I don’t blow it, who will!

 

In our Senior Cambridge English Language exam, we had to write an essay and had a choice of topics which were fairly common. But there was one that seemed out of the ordinary, viz., ‘A foreign guest is visiting you. Describe how you will show him your city in three days’. I picked this one up and wrote my essay. On comparing notes after the exam, I discovered that nobody else had chosen this subject. I felt I had gone into uncharted waters and wondered how I would fare. I need not have worried; I was the only one to get an ‘A’.

 

Today after 66 years, I have gone around in just an hour. Hope you enjoyed the drive!

 

 

THREE LEGENDS I ADORED- An Actor, A Singer and A Golfer

 

The news of Sean Connery’s passing away yesterday came as a bolt from the blue. Wasn’t he meant to be always there, an immortal?

It transported me back to my young days in the '60s when in 1962, I saw a movie called “Dr No”. That introduced us to James Bond, a character popular to the day 58 years hence. Sean Connery was the original Bond and generally considered the best although he passed on the baton in 1967 after 4 more Bond films. He did return twice though, the last time in "Never Say Never Again" in 1983. He didn’t want to be typecast but his delightful way of introducing himself- Bond, James Bond, and his unique martini- Shaken, not Stirred, would become trade marks in all subsequent films. While he may not have been directly responsible,  the opening of the movies with the view of James Bond through the barrel of a gun accompanied by the delightful Bond theme would continue to be identified with him, the original Bond. So would the Bond girls beginning with the bikini clad Ursula Andress emerging from the sea in “Dr No”.

Sean Connery, it was “No Time to Die”.

Nostalgia brought two other favourites to mind. Sean lived to be 90 but these two died young.

The first is the unforgettable singer, ‘Gentleman’ Jim Reeves. His smooth deep voice was remarkable and his simple lyrics touched one’s heart. He was extremely popular in the early 60s and you could not resist singing along with him on the radio. I particularly remember Kharakvasla evenings when Bogey Borgonah, Honky Mukhuty, Sudhir Isaacs and I would croon his songs almost every evening with a drink. His greatest hit was “He’ll Have to Go” with a stanza to recall, ‘With your sweet lips a little closer to the phone, Let’s pretend that we’re together all alone, I’ll tell the man to turn the jukebox way down low, And you can tell your friend that well, He’ll have to go’.

Then one evening in July 1964, we heard the news that he had died in his private plane crash at the age of 40. We were stunned and shed a lot of tears for him.

Seve Bellesteros is my all-time favourite golfer. Before him, golf was considered a staid game dominated by the stiff upper lip middle-aged British and Americans. Seve brought passion and visible emotion into the game. I happened to be at home in Jaipur tuning into the BBC commentary of the 1976 British Open when at the age of 19, he gave a run for the money to the eventual winner Johnny Miller and finished runner-up tied with Jack Nicklaus. The commentators were full of praise for this fresh talent and his style of play and that got me excited too. He immediately became my golf idol and I kept track of his career from thereon. In 1979 he finally won his first British Open becoming its youngest winner in the 20th century. In 1980 he won the Masters becoming at 23 the youngest champion of the event, a record beaten by Tiger Woods only 17 years later. He went on to win one more Masters and 2 more British Open the last of which was in 1988 watched anxiously by me live on TV in Singapore. He broke the monopoly of the British and Americans in golf and popularized the game immensely in Europe with the latter winning the Ryder Cup for the first time and a total of 5 times with him as a member and then Captain of the European team. Spaniards were thrilled to host the first Ryder Cup in Continental Europe at Valderrama, Spain, in 1997 and with Seve as the Captain, beat the Americans comfortably.

Seve developed back pain towards the end of his career and the consequent loss of form depressed him a great deal leading to a divorce. Then in 2008, he fainted at Madrid airport and was diagnosed with a brain tumour which was removed and he appeared to be on the mend. But he developed brain cancer and sadly passed away in 2011 at the age of 54. A sad end to a brilliant man. 

I have a photograph with Seve’s wax statue at Madame Tussaud’s, London - a prize possession.

Thank you, Sean, Gentleman Jim and Seve for providing so much pleasure in my life. My memories of you are eternal.

Vizag II

 

Rear Admiral Ronnie Pereira assumed command of the Eastern Fleet on 02 April 1972; perhaps he too was wary of April Fool’s Day! The staff had changed with only me continuing as FCO from RAdm Sarma's days. Cdr PP Sivamani was from the old staff too but he had been elevated from Navigation to Fleet Operations Officer (FOO). Cdr Basudev Mukherjee was the new navigator (FNO), Lt Cdr VK Ramchandani, Torpedo and Anti-submarine officer (FTASO) and good old coursemate Lt Cdr JK Roy Chowdhry, the gunner (FGO). On the personal staff, Satish Bindra had given way to Cdr AV Bharath as the Secretary and Lt PK Vijayan was the new Flag Lt.

A few sailings were enough for us to get to know the new Admiral who was easy to serve under provided you were honest and straightforward. He liked people to be brief and direct and hated long diatribes. I remember one meeting where a commanding officer was holding forth for a considerable time on some trivial issue. Suddenly we heard a tap-tap-tap and the Admiral shouted, "Come in". There was silence while all eyes went to the door but there was no one there. Smilingly the Admiral declared that the knocking sound must have been his tapping the filter- tipped cigarette on the table! The meeting came to an end on a happy note.

A relatively free period in the summer saw me taking some leave and Akhila and I proceeded to Jaipur. En route we made a brief stop in Delhi where I met Shashi Mama who was posted in NHQ. He told me that he had run into the Deputy Director Of Personnel (DDOP) at a party recently and had inquired about the state of my representation on non-selection for Staff College. The terse and haughty reply was, "Tell Sharma to forget about Staff College". Indeed, my name was not included in the 1974 list.

A few days into the leave, I received a telegram to proceed immediately to New Delhi and report to the Director Naval Intelligence (DNI). On arrival, I found that two other officers, Lt Cdrs Roly Lewin and MS Narayanan had been similarly summoned. We were met by the Deputy DNI, Cdr HD Madhok, head of the counter-intelligence section, who told us that there had been a mini mutiny on board the cruiser Mysore and a number of sailors had been arrested. Our task was to interrogate them and find the ringleaders and the cause of mutiny. We were briefed on the art of interrogation and proceeded to carry out our assignment for the next few weeks.

On completion, it was back to Vizag and the Eastern Fleet. Meanwhile, Cmde Grewal, Chief of Staff Eastern Naval Command, had been promoted to Rear Admiral and posted to NHQ as the Assistant Chief of Personnel. Shortly afterwards we received a signal that I had been selected for the 1974 Staff College course!

My morale was at a new high! I had got what I considered my just desserts and I was serving under a fine Admiral. With an uplifted mood, the sailings became fun and exciting. In harbour, there was golf on weekends with the Admiral driving the staff car himself (he refused to disturb his driver's weekends) and insisting on picking me up from my flat in Naval Park. Mrs Pereira was quite fond of Akhila and asked her to enter the upcoming Wills Made For Each Other contest with me. Akhila politely declined as neither of us was keen to draw any undue attention.

To top it all, we were delighted to learn that Akhila was carrying a baby due for March 1974. In short, as the song in the popular musical Oklahoma went, “Everything‘s goin’ my way”.

Movies were always welcome and we saw quite a few with Roy Chow and his wife Shiela. I particularly recall 'Bobby' during which Chow and I loudly joined in singing "Chabhi kho jaye" much to the embarrassment of the wives trying to shush us up!

There were other light moments like the debrief of an exercise where the Western Fleet ships sneaked in to attack Vizag harbour with the Eastern Fleet still out searching for them on the high seas. That brought forth Capt KK Nayyar's quote he attributed to Lord Fisher, First Sea Lord of the Royal Navy in early 1900s, "Far..ng around the ocean is neither good strategy nor good tactics". Admiralty's records have been searched but the quote is yet to be found!

Then there was the time when the FNO made the error of leading the Fleet to approaches of Bheemunipatnam instead of Vishakhapatnam. The Admiral took it sportingly; after all, the error had been made earlier, the most talked about being when Cdr Dawson, later CNS, made the same error as an FNO!

Too soon we were at the end of the year and it was time to pack up and move to Wellington. In my final meeting with Admiral Pereira, he tossed my confidential report (ACR) across the table to me saying, “Hope this gets you your brass hat!” 

Thank you, Ronnie P.

P.S. Some may not be aware of the significance of ‘brass hat’. In the Navy, promotions up to the rank of Lt Cdr are by time. Commander is the first rank which is by selection where about half the officers are superseded. Those who are promoted are distinguished by an arc of brass leaves on the peaks of their caps. Hence the coveted ‘brass hat’.

SETTLING DOWN IN VIZAG AFTER MARRIAGE

Akhila and I reached Vizag on 2nd April 1972, deliberately avoiding April Fool’s Day for our arrival. The naval camaraderie came to the fore with all my friends and their wives ready to do all that they could to help us settle down and make Akhila feel at home. Most importantly, Jack (JMS) Sodhi, who had gone to the USSR to fetch a submarine, left the keys of his Amzari Park flat for us so that we had a roof over our heads rightaway. The flat had two bedrooms one of which was locked with the Sodhis’ belongings, so we had just the one small bedroom which was cosy enough for the honeymooners.

Initially, our meals were all booked with friends’ invites but soon time came for Akhila to prepare lunch. As the Fleet office was quite close she asked me to come home during the break. We didn’t have gas and appropriate utensils but had among our wedding gifts an electric stove and a 5 litre pressure cooker. So Akhila put one katori of rice in the cooker and switched on the stove. She kept checking but the rice refused to be cooked as the heating was not enough.  By the time I arrived, the poor girl was in tears. Cooking was aborted and we went to the Mess for our lunch.

That evening we arranged for gas and bought smaller utensils so that a meal for two could be cooked fast. We thought of employing a cook but I was dissuaded by my friend Satish Bindra who, over a drink, advised, “Do not get a cook, let Akhila set her hand at cooking for a few months. Then you can hire a cook.” Advice valued and taken!

Anyway, Akhila was quite adept at cooking having done a lot of it at home in Bijnor. Coming from the same community, both of us were vegetarians and the food taste and recipes were the same, the only point of contention being her partiality for ‘ghiya’ and mine for ‘aloo’. So it was back to Jaipur food for me and little adjustment was required. Just once the memory of Trishul days and Roly Lewin’s influence tempted me to take home a large can of bacon from a ship’s canteen and I asked Akhila to give me a piece for breakfast daily. She did that for a couple of days and then declared that the bacon was over. I was a little surprised at how it had run out so fast. It was much later that she confessed that she used to give me one piece and throw out two! She also requested me not to bring any more such stuff and with good home food, I saw no reason why I should not comply with her wish.

We had also been presented a baking oven and Akhila said she would try her hand at making cookies which she had learnt at a confectionery course a few years earlier during a visit to Bangalore where her brother, Subhash Mehrish, also a naval officer, was serving as ADC to the Governor of Karnataka. The oven was placed on the dining room table and on completion of baking, Akhila lifted the lid and placed it on a chair. Immediately, we heard a loud thud made by the lid falling on the floor. As the lid was hot, it had burnt the cane seating on the chair and fell through the resultant hole. Recovering from the shock, Akhila was checking for damages to the lid whereas I was more concerned by what the MES would charge me for repairing the chair. The cookies, though, were delicious.

Once we had settled, I thought of getting Lucky, my Pomeranian, back from Vijay Prasada in Cochin.  We were very sad to learn that Lucky had succumbed to distemper some time ago. It was even more disconcerting because Lucky had been innoculated against the disease. But we were told these things happen.

On a weekend, Subodh Gupta and his wife Beenu who were staying in Waltair Uplands, suggested we come to their house early on Sunday morning and we would go out on a picnic somewhere. After preparations, we went to sleep on Saturday night. On getting up, we found our feet in ankle deep water which had flooded the flat and had the carpets floating. Apparently, water supply had stopped at night and the kitchen tap had been inadvertently left open. We had to abort the picnic plans and instead spent the Sunday clearing the water, drying the carpets and restoring order in the flat.

On another Sunday, Satish Bindra and Meena who had developed a good rapport with Akhila, proposed we spend the morning on a beach. After a pleasant outing, we headed back to the naval base at lunchtime. We were quite hungry and as we descended the Uplands hill on the way to the base, we saw a shack advertising ‘delicious’ food. We got out of our cars and sat down on the chairs provided. After some shouting from us, a bearer turned up. He gave us a menu and we eagerly made our choices. The bearer then informed us that food would take about an hour as ‘the cook has gone for lunch!’ We quickly got in our cars and rushed home to eat. 

By summer, ships had completed their refits and maintenance and were ready to  sail. The first time the Fleet was scheduled to spend a few nights out, we decided that rather than stay alone, Akhila would go to Calcutta to visit her sister where the latter’s husband, then Col RC Sharma, an eye specialist, was posted. After the sea trip, I got back home while Akhila took the night train to reach Vizag the next forenoon. During the night, a fierce cyclone hit the coast and in the morning when I inquired about the train’s arrival, the railway authorities said they were out of touch with the train and had no idea about its location and arrival time. I spent 12 hours of tremendous anxiety and Akhila had a torrid time in the train with howling winds and rain, zero visibility, and no food, water and information. It was an enormous relief when the train eventually arrived late in the evening. We then decided that there would be no such trips for Akhila just because I had to spend a few nights out at sea.

Socially, there was a lot of informality those days and we used to drop in each others’ house without prior notice. One day, we walked in a friend’s house with me still in uniform. Our friend’s son informed us that his parents were not at home and he would tell them that we had come. I asked him if he knew my name and he said, “Ravi Sharma.” Happy that I was popular, I asked him how he remembered me. He said, “I can read your name tally.” Smart kid!

Movies were our main source of entertainment. Rajesh Khanna was on top with Aradhana, Kati Patang and Anand which also brought to the fore Amitabh Bachchan. Jaya Bhaduri was lovable in Guddi, Uphaar and Piya Ka Ghar. Kishore Kumar’s songs were immensely popular. My friend Doc NP Mukherjee told us that he saw Kati Patang every evening while it was running in the base cinema just to listen to ‘Yeh Jo Mohabbat hai” and ‘Yeh Shaam Mastani’.

There was one picture hall in town, Jagdamba, which we visited frequently. It also had a small restaurant in the complex where we would dine after a movie until the night we were served an ice cream with a cockroach embedded in a scoop. 

Days were passing in a predictable manner. I was nearing a year as Fleet Communication Officer and the most obvious move was for me to go for the 1973 Staff College course. The list came out and my name was missing! While most of my colleagues had been selected, there were some unlikely names. I recall a rare remark made by Capt KK Nayyar, perhaps exclusive to him, which makes me laugh even now. On being told of a particular name, he said, “How is his name there? He is….. off the rake.” For non-naval readers, a rake, similar to the garden tool, is a device with which to assess the accuracy of gunfire. A wild shot would be completely ‘off the rake’!

To pour salt on the wound, my two colleagues on the staff, Bikash Ghosh, the Torpedo Anti-submarine Officer and Mohan Chandy, the Gunnery Officer, were selected to undergo staff courses abroad, Bikash in USSR and Mohan in UK, whereas I was not even in the local Wellington list. I could only conjecture that the 1970 lukewarm report of OIC Signal School was responsible for my omission. I was angry and deeply hurt and saw Admiral Sarma and told him I wanted to make a representation. He told me to go ahead and he would back me up. The representation was sent to NHQ and that was the last I heard of it.

Jack Sodhi was now due to come back and I was still on waiting list for accommodation. We decided that I would take my remaining leave and Akhila would remain in Jaipur till some accommodation was available. Meanwhile, I got a letter from Mummy that my Mansi and Masarji wanted to come to Vizag with their elder daughter Manjula, and Mummy would accompany them. Masarji, who was in the Army, had been posted in Vizag in early 40s when Manjula as an infant had been very sick. They had made a ‘sankalp’ that if she regained good health they would come to Vizag to pay obeisance to Lord Simhachalam at Vizag’s most revered temple. We were now in a quandary- for such an auspicious task, we did not want to say no to them but we had no accommodation! 

One evening, Akhila was sitting on the lawns of the Mess looking quite morose while waiting for me when Commodore MS Grewal, Chief of Staff (COS), came over and started talking to her. He noticed that she looked glum and preoccupied and said, “My girl, is something bothering you?” Innocently, Akhila poured her heart out and told Cmde Grewal of our dilemma. The latter said, “No problem, we are going on leave and you can have my house for a month.” 

When I met Akhila, she was bubbling with joy and told me what had happened. I could not believe my ears and thought the COS must be joking. How could a junior Lt Cdr stay in an earmarked, independent house of the COS? But on meeting Cmde Grewal, the offer was repeated and my hesitancy brushed aside. 

Unbelievably, we moved from our 1-bedroom abode to a two-storey independent house with front and rear lawns. Cmde Grewal’s staff was also at our disposal and we were able to host Masarji and family very comfortably. 

On completion of their visit, I took leave and we headed to Jaipur. While I returned to Vizag, Akhila stayed back till we were allotted a rented flat in Waltair Uplands in January 1973.

Shortly after we moved in, Akhila had a miscarriage and had to be hospitalized. While all of us were anxious and worried, Pitaji saw the bright side and remarked, “Chalo, koi baat nahin. Inke bacche toh hongay!”

In March, Admiral Sarma was transferred and all staff members took turns hosting farewell meals for him and Mrs Sarma. We first thought of organizing a dinner in the Mess as we were not very confident that we would be able to cope up at home with a VIP guest and several others. But we decided to bite the bullet and hosted a lunch at home that went off well with everyone appreciative of Akhila’s ‘Kadhi chawal’ and her signature ‘gobhi aloo’. There was no ‘ghiya’ though!

We were now all eagerly awaiting Rear Admiral Ronnie Pereira’s arrival as the Fleet Commander.

 

MY MARRIAGE STORY

 From the time I reached Vizag end-October 1971 and joined the Eastern Fleet Staff to the end of the war and minesweeping operations in Chittagong, the pace of life was hectic and days passed by in a flash. Back in Vizag early January 1972, the first few days were busy settling down in our new office, writing reports on the Fleet operations and working on mundane matters such as formulating the Eastern Fleet Standing Orders. Towards the end of the month, it was all done and one felt like taking a break and getting away from it all. There was to be no sailing for quite a while as most ships were under refit after the war. So I took a month’s leave and went to Jaipur.

Pitaji, Mataji (my Nana, Nani) and Mummy were anxiously awaiting my arrival and were very happy to see me. They wanted to know all about the operations and we spent a week or so talking about them. Around 10th February, Pitaji’s youngest brother Sushil Chacha’s second son Jagat, who was much younger than me, was getting married and all of us drove to Kota to attend the wedding. While Pitaji, Mataji and Mummy were busy meeting relatives and with the wedding ceremonies, I was at a loose end not knowing too many people. For some reason, perhaps brought on by the war, I was feeling very lonely. I started wondering where I was headed having reached the age of 33 ½! All my school friends, coursemates and relatives had got married and settled, the world was passing me by and here I was perhaps the last man standing! The feeling kept haunting me and I didn’t know what to do about it.

Back in Jaipur, Mummy mentioned that she had to go to Delhi to attend another wedding. Mummy’s very close friend from her Benares College days, Savitri Aunty, had invited her for the wedding of her niece, Bharti, with a certain Yogesh Deveshwar. (That's another story, 35 years later!). Mummy asked me to come along and I happily agreed as that would keep me busy. I would also get to meet Shashi Mama (Cdr PK Sharma) who after the war was posted in Delhi and we would be staying with him.

To attend the wedding, we went in the evening to Ishwar Nagar adjoining the Friends’ Colony. The Jaimala ceremony began and the bride slowly made her way to the stage. Looking around, I saw a very pretty girl standing tiptoe to get an unobstructed view of the ceremony. Her looks attracted me and I kept watching her. Shashi Mama appeared at my side and asked me where I was looking. I hesitated but then he pointedly asked me if I was looking at ‘that girl’. Caught, I had to say yes.

Shashi Mama, “Do you like her?”

Me, “Yes.”

Shashi Mama, “Do you recognize her?”

Me, “No.”

Shashi Mama, “ Well, she is Binno.”

I was stunned. The ground slipped under me. I needed to sit down but couldn’t move. Shashi Mama helped me to a chair.

Let’s start from the very beginning, a very good place to start.

In 1940, Kailash Nath Sharma and Kishen Chand Mehrish were studying in Agra University and staying in a hostel. Being members of a small Suryadhwaj Brahmin community and having common relatives, they became close friends. Both were married with Kailashji having a 2-year old son that is me, and Kishenji having a daughter and a son. When they got together after the summer vacation, Kishenji (Babuji) told Kailashji (Daddy) that the former’s wife was in the family way. Daddy said to him, “If you have a girl, we’ll get her married to Ravi.” But a boy arrived and the plan fell through. A year later, Daddy passed away.

In 1948, Pitaji and Mataji met Babuji and Amma (Babuji’s wife) at the wedding of Amma’s brother in Bharatpur. They saw an infant girl in Amma’s arms. Perhaps Mummy had told them about the 1940 idea for they immediately told Babuji to keep the girl for their grandson, me!

In 1961, I went on leave to Delhi where Pitaji was posted. Mummy asked Babuji to come to Delhi with his family. They came to Pitaji’s house on 1 Teenmurti Lane and had tea with us. Akhila (Binno) then was a lanky girl who had barely entered her teens and was in School. When they left, Mummy asked me how I liked her. I said she is fine but too young and should continue her education.

I got busy in the Navy with different appointments and transfers and whenever Mummy spoke about marriage, I said I was not ready. But both my folks and Akhila’s kept in touch and had mentally decided on the match. I, however, had my doubts about how Akhila, brought up in the orthodox and conservative background of Bijnor, would adapt to the liberal environment of the Navy. My folks kept applying pressure on me to marry which had an adverse effect on me. The stronger the pressure, the more I rebelled and opposed the match. In time, Mummy also appeared to have given up the idea and stopped writing in her letters or talking about it when we met. By February 1972, as far as I was concerned, the matter was closed.

Imagine my shock when Shashi Mama told me that the girl I was looking at was Akhila! Shashi Mama narrated what had happened. Mummy had quietly planned the whole thing. She wrote to Babuji that we were going to attend a wedding in Delhi and asked them to come having taken Savitri Aunty into confidence and obtained an invitation for them. At first, Amma was reluctant as she saw no point in meeting us with no signs of my having changed my mind. Babuji, however, persuaded her to give it one final shot and confirmed to Mummy that they would be there.

Akhila was not told anything about all this and was just tempted with the chance of a trip to Delhi. Once there, Babuji asked her to accompany them to a wedding reception. She was quite upset as she said she had not come prepared for such a formal occasion. She had, however, brought a newly purchased silk sari to get a matching blouse stitched. She was taken to Janpath to buy a shawl which would cover the unmatching blouse! And that is how she appeared that evening, 17 February 1972, watching the Jaimala ceremony and me in turn watching her! 

Shashi Mama then asked me if he should take the matter further. I was hesitant and wondered what would be Akhila’s reaction after all my naysaying over the years. The shoe was now on the other foot and would she accept me or turn me down? Shashi Mama said if I was convinced, he would talk to Babuji and Amma and tell them ‘Ravi is willin’.’ With some trepidation, I asked him to go ahead.

Shashi Mama spoke to them and they said they would talk to Akhila at night. The next morning, 18th February, Babuji rang up to say they had managed to get Akhila to say yes. Shashi Mama invited them for lunch during which the engagement was firmed up. Mummy, Mamiji and I went to Connaught Place to buy a ring which was duly slipped by me on Akhila’s finger on our return. Roughly, the wedding was planned for summer. 

I asked if Akhila and I could go out the next day. And so we had our one and only date before marriage and went to see a movie called ‘April Fool’! Shashi Mama organized an engagement party that evening at the SP Marg Mess. It was well attended headed by Admiral Chatterji who gave his fatherly approval of my choice!

The following day, Babuji and family went back to Bijnor and I to Vizag. I told  Admiral Sarma, my boss, and the fleet staff about my engagement and they were all very happy for me. Back in my cabin, I thought that now that our minds have been made up, why wait till the summer. I spoke to the Admiral the next morning and asked him if I could go back and get married as the fleet was not likely to be active for quite some time yet. He readily said yes, I could take another month off.

I spoke to Pitaji and Mummy and asked them to arrange the wedding as soon as possible. They in turn got in touch with Babuji. Initially, there was resistance from Amma and Akhila who said they would need time for preparations. Babuji overcame that with one sentence, “For something that I have waited for so many years, I am not going to wait a day more than necessary.” The family Pandit was consulted who said the only auspicious date was 11 March which was agreed upon by both families.

On 7th March I flew to Delhi where my wedding outfit was completed with the addition of a suit stitched urgently and another purchased readymade. The wedding took place in Bijnor on the due date and all close relatives from both sides were able to attend despite the short notice with just one exception. Shashi Mama who had done so much spadework leading to the engagement was unable to come to Bijnor as his younger daughter developed fever.

We returned to Delhi on 12th March and proceeded to Jaipur and Ajmer, where Mummy was posted, for receptions. Akhila and I were back in Vizag early April.

Thus the script of our marriage story which was first thought of in 1940 remained a concept for 32 years but then took just 3 weeks to be written from engagement to marriage!

P.S. My apprehensions about Akhila settling down in the naval environment proved to be unfounded. She not only adjusted rapidly but knew instinctively what to get involved in and what to stay away from. 

P.P.S. We must end on a light note. Viji Malhotra, one of the few friends who attended the wedding, has this story over which we have laughed many a time. On its way back to Delhi, the ‘baraat’ bus made a short stop at Hapur. Most of the male members rushed to stand against the nearest wall. This offended Vinnie (Cmde VK Sharma) Mama’s sense of decency causing him to shake his head and, sitting in the bus, disparagingly remark, “Verry bad”.

Trini Lopez

 

Sad to hear the news of Trini Lopez passing away. He was 83 but his end was hastened by, what else, Covid-19!

Trini was not in my thoughts for many years. But this news took me straight back to the golden decade of the 60s when in every party, after a few drinks, we would get around to singing his songs “If I Had A Hammer” and “Lemon Tree” which ‘is very pretty and the lemon flower is sweet, but the fruit of the lemon is impossible to eat’. I don’t entirely agree with Trini for I am fond of eating lemon in its raw form! But I guess he was meaning it figuratively as the lyrics that follow show.

Then there was the evergreen “La Bamba” which Ritchie Valens had brought out in 1958 but Trini lent it his own charm and passion to make it to the top of the pops in 1966. It had Spanish lyrics but that didn’t stop us from humming along and shouting “arriba arriba’, ‘soy capitan’ and ‘Bam-ba Bamba’ which we could decipher ourselves. With its fascinating rhythm, we would all be on our feet, clapping and dancing well into the night. “La Bamba” would be familiar to younger generations as well with its revival in 1987 by Los Lobos and its inclusion in the Best Rock and Roll Songs of all time.

Trini is no more but his departure has revived memories of days full of fun and laughter. It is impossible not to get nostalgic and recall Mary Hopkin's unforgettable lyrics, ‘We’d live the life we choose, we’d fight and never lose, for we were young and sure to have our way.’ 

And now, ‘I saw a strange reflection, was that lonely sailor really me?......Oh, my friend, we're older but no wiser, for in our hearts the dreams are still the same."

Trini Lopez, RIP.

BRIEF CONVERSATIONS

 1. Me: “I am going mad.”

Akhila: “Why?”

Me: “I don’t know, I’m just going mad.”

Akhila: “But that you’ve always been.”

Thanks

2. Shumita is reading a book of quirky quotes to her 7-year old son, Raghav.

Raghav: “ I’ll give this book to Nanu.”

Shumita: “Why?”

Raghav: “Nanu is nutty.”

Et tu, Raghav!

3. I ask Shiven, my 11 year old grandson, “Do you think I am nuts?”

Shiven: “No, I think you are amazingly funny.”

Watch this boy. He is going to be a very successful diplomat.

4. Cmde Malia’s jam… sorry, gem.

A naval officer undergoing training in UK is dating a British girl. Since his pocket is not overly jangling with coins, he takes her to a pub where they should be serving free snacks. To make sure he asks, “Do you serve nuts?”

Bartender: “Yes, yes, we don’t care. We serve all alike, nuts or sane.”

I could go to that pub.

5. One for 'resuming golf' times. A course shares its boundary with a lunatic asylum. A golfer’s ball goes close to the fence where an asylum inmate is intently watching.

Inmate: “Excuse me sir, what are you doing?”

Golfer: “ I am playing golf.”

Inmate: “And pray, sir, what do you have to do?”

Golfer: “You see this ball. I am trying to put this in the hole on that yonder green.”

Inmate: “ Hmm, I see. Come in and join us. We are all like that only.”

I think I'll stick to Solitaire.

BRING UP MY MASHIE

Covid-19 has put golf off our calendars. After more than 55 years of an average twice a week golf barring seatime or inaccessibility to a course, my golf came to a stop on 19th March this year with the closing of clubs. Golf courses are opening up now though with a lot of constraints like compulsory prior booking, no caddies and catering facilities and the now normal conditions of face masks, social distancing etc. Add to that the mental resistance caused by 4 1/2 months of lockdowns and the 'unlock' process becomes harder to execute.

The itch to get back to golf is slowly developing and I hope I can soon return to the fairways and greens, not bunkers! To get in the mood, I picked up P.G.Wodehouse’s 'The Golf Omnibus' and some of my previous pieces on golf. Here are some musings which I have put together before I eventually make my way back to the golf course.

In the Preface of the 'Omnibus', I read PGW's lament about the vanishing  of  “the names of most golf clubs so dear to me”, something I have myself felt quite often. He wrote, “I believe one still drives with a driver nowadays, though at any moment we may have to start calling it the Number One wood, but where is the mashie now, where the cleek, the spoon and the baffy?”

Where indeed and why? Would it not be infinitely more romantic if we were to tee-off on a tight fairway with the brassie, pull out a mashie to put the shot in the hole and get an albatross rather than a soulless 2 wood and 5 iron to get a double eagle? What fun to send a ball soaring over trees with a spoon and lovingly coax it towards the hole with a niblick instead of the bland nos. 5 and 9! Wodehouse surmises it might have to do with ‘Progress’ but it was “a pity to cast away lovely names like mashie and baffy in favour of numbers.” 

Was Wodehouse trying to lay the blame of progress on the Americans? Undoubtedly, they are strong on numbers as seen by their fondness for marking streets and avenues in their cities. But this contrasts with their very imaginative naming of golf courses. They have courses named after alcohol such as the Bootleg, Rum River and Scotch Pines; after animals eg, Crumpin’ Fox, Kissing Camels, Rat River and Possum Trot; descriptive like Whispering Pines, Singing hills, Argue-ment and Useless Bay (perhaps named by someone driving a lot of balls in the sea); and tongue twisters like Ngaruawahia, Pauatahanui and Kaitangata. Good luck to golfers asking for directions to get there!

A lot of courses have a story behind their names. Frank Wisner, former US Ambassador to India, took me to a club a couple of hours' drive from New York City. The story goes that some golfers from NYC were looking for a place to swing a club and having driven a considerable distance, stopped to ask a Chinese how far the nearest course was. The answer, "Morefar" earned the club its present name, "Morefar Back O'Beyond". 

Then they have a club named "A Lil' bit a Heaven" which golfers could justifiably call any golf course in the world.

We have shown a singular lack of imagination in naming our golf courses which are mostly designated after the city of location. So we have Delhi Golf Club, DLF Golf Club, Royal Calcutta Golf Club, Bombay Presidency Golf Club, Noida Golf Course etc. We have numerous Army Golf Courses all over the country called just that! Surely, we can break out of the mould with some exotic names.

Indian caddies are more ingenuous. They have apt names for golfers in their club. I stumbled upon this fact in the Delhi Golf Club when I overheard a caddie tell another, “Kachua (tortoise) has arrived.” Not seeing any creature of that kind, I asked the caddie what he meant. It took some persuasion for him to tell me that he was referring to an individual famous for his slow play. 

Subsequently, I coaxed the caddies in the Army Golf Course to open up and give me some names.  They came up with “Putt-to-half” for one who never counted his strokes and made this declaration to his opponent on finally arriving at the green, “Mogambo” for a player who terrorised his caddie for not finding his ball in the rough, “Rahu-Ketu” for the duo that always played together but fought on every hole, 'Puch-puch' for one who always made a kissing sound when drawing his caddie's attention, and so on. 

The caddies do not spare there own tribe too. They have a Naagin and a Sapera addicted to drugs, a Ganapati fond of laddoos and a Dasehri for one very fond of mangoes!

No amount of coaxing would make them say if they had a name for me. I suspect, though, that they call me a ‘Javelin-thrower’ given my habit of often hurling my club like a javelin that would put Odin, the Norse god, to shame!

So bring up my mashie, niblick, spoon, some guttapercha balls and plus-fours and help me find my way to the golf course for auld lang syne.

 

An Anecdote to go with Long 'C' At Last

In our Course, we had a good student, G, and a bad student, B. B copied from G in an exam but when the results came out, G had very good marks and B much less. B went to the examiner and asked how his marks were lower than G's when their answers were identical. The examiner asked B how he knew the answers were identical. B beat a hasty retreat and let the matter rest there!

SIGNAL SCHOOL - For Worse Then Better

I joined Signal School at the naval base INS Venduruthy, Cochin, just before Christmas in 1969. This was to be a temporary assignment as I was standby to go to UK for a course for joining a Weapons Acceptance Testing and Trials (WATT) team for inspecting and accepting equipment for the Leander class frigates under construction at the Mazagon Docks, Bombay. However, in about a month we learnt that the Royal Navy had cancelled the Course presumably as the UK government was irked by India placing an order for buying ships from the Soviet Union. Consequently, my appointment at Cochin became permanent.

The Oic (Officer-in-charge) headed the School and I was third in seniority on the staff after the Chief Instructor (CI) and another officer. I was given the portfolio of W1 in the section for teaching Radio Organisation.  The then CI who had risen from the ranks and the next officer had reportedly fallen foul of the Oic and were soon eased out and the mantle of CI fell on my shoulders. Not that the Oic thought much of me but with his modus operandi of having one smart and intelligent person as his aide and confidant who he had already picked before I joined the School, someone was needed for the unglamorous daily grind that went with the job of the CI. Actually, the designation of CI was a bit of a misnomer; the CI was more of an administrative head rather than that of training.

At this point, let me say that the Oic was simply the worst officer I ever suffered under! There was something wrong with the man; he was tall but he only used his height to look down on people; he would have been handsome if only he wore a smile instead of a perpetual scowl which PG Wodehouse would have attributed to dyspepsia. I heard him laugh occasionally but the laughter was derisive and not joyous. He was always bitter and sarcastic and never seemed happy and content.

The base at Cochin had two major establishments, Venduruthy and Garuda. While the former consisted of various schools for training, Garuda was the naval air station. Off working hours, the personnel at Cochin were kept busy with sports and cultural activities. Tournaments and competitions were held with Venduruthy fielding a team for each school and Garuda as one unit. This was quite unfair as it put the schools at a disadvantage firstly because of sheer numbers and secondly, the schools had a floating population with trainees coming and going while Garuda staff was stable. Garuda, therefore, used to win most of the competitions. Our Oic saw this as an opportunity to make his mark. He told Cmde RS Malia, CO Venduruthy, that Signal School would break Garuda’s monopoly. Thereafter, our entire effort was to build teams that would beat Garuda. I was tasked to get the best signals sportsmen from the Navy on our staff, if necessary on temporary duty for the duration of an event, and put them under intensive training and special diet for each competition.

As a result, the events became exclusively Garuda vs Signal School affairs. Competition was intense which would have been fine except that it often took a dirty turn with unfair practices and protests gaining priority over sportsmanship. ‘Win at any cost’ became the motto for Signal School and consequently for Garuda. A loss would incur the Oic’s wrath for long after the event while a win would be treated as routine.

On one occasion after a tense final, I went to the US Club to bask in the glory of a victory and have a drink. The Oic and his confidant were already in the bar. The former asked me in a taunting tone, “What are YOU celebrating?” as if the School win should be anathema to me !

I used to look forward to weekend golf at Bolghatti to unwind. I would drive in my Standard Herald to Ernakulam and catch a ferry to the island. To begin with, I was the only golfer from the Navy and my co-players were largely from the Cochin tea community. Later, Rear Admiral Vasu Kamath took over as Flag Officer Commanding Southern Naval Area (FOCSOUTH). He was a keen golfer and asked me to join him. The bonus was a ride in the Admiral’s barge to and fro instead of the earlier car and ferry routine.

Cdr L Ramdas was Oic Naval Academy. Adm Katari, his father-in-law and the first Indian naval chief, used to visit Cochin occasionally. He was also a golfer and we had many games together including one in which both the Admiral and Cdr Ramdas hit a British tea planter on the leg with their drives one after the other. Sure had the guy hopping mad!

Apart from golf, I had my pet Pomeranian Lucky to keep me occupied in my spare time and give me company at home - my cabin. Lucky’s popularity among children of the base earned me the sobriquet of ‘Lucky Uncle’! There was music, of course, and friends naval and teawallahs. I used to meet the latter quite often and remember Timmy Thimaiyya who used to sing Pankaj Mullick songs beautifully. Then there was Jani Uthup who bagged Usha Iyer!

Having learnt to tolerate Oic’s ways and with the School coming on top in most activities, I thought things were reasonably under control. Then came ACR (annual confidential report) time and Cdr Kewal Gulati, Secretary to FOCSOUTH rang me up and asked me what was going on between the Oic and me? I was taken aback by the question and he continued by saying that the Oic had given me a stinker of a report which totally surprised Adm Kamath. The latter had got to know me well and told Cdr Gulati that even if I had some professional shortcomings which the Oic could perhaps be the best judge of, overall I could not be as bad as made out in the report. He asked Cdr Gulati to return the report and have it rewritten. This was done and the report was considerably mellowed! I guess a lot of damage was averted although I feel that my non-selection of Staff College in 1973 was a consequence of this.

Mercifully, we had a change of Oic at the end of the year and Cdr SD ‘Clinker’ Karve took over. What an enormous relief it was. Clinker Karve was a cool, relaxed, pipe smoking officer, always smiling. He was a thorough professional who expected the best but gave a free hand for one to do the job and would not interfere unless absolutely necessary. Extra curricular activities remained important but not at the expense of professionalism and sporting spirit.

Life now proceeded smoothly and happily. Visits of ships from Bombay were looked forward to for meeting friends. These visits were also utilized for operational exercises. It was on one such visit that prompted Cmde Malia to come out with his ‘Romeo Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo?’ quote which I have written about in my earlier post “Naval Operations And Exercises That Went Awry”.

In October 1971, I went to Bombay to take part in the Navy Golf Championship. On my return, I found a message from Cdr Karve to contact him immediately. I rang him up and he told me that I had been appointed Fleet Communication Officer of the newly formed Eastern Fleet and should leave for Vishakhapatnam the very next day. One had to change trains at Madras and en route I should check if Vikrant was in port in which case I was to board it there itself.

Fortunately, as a bachelor my worldly possessions were scant. I put everything in a box and a bedding and left behind my car, music system and golf set with a friend to be transported later. There were many contenders for Lucky who was finally whisked off by Vijay Prasada.

Next afternoon, I was 'beered' out by Cdr Ravi Sawhney and Kailash Kohli in the US Club and deposited in the train.






 

Happy Days On Trishul

I reported on board the frigate Trishul in mid-August 1968. Captain S Rajendra was in command and the ship was undergoing a short refit and not scheduled to sail till the end of the year. This made it possible for all newcomers to settle down, get to know the ship and each other well. All of us specialists were fresh from our long courses and, therefore, ‘hot’. The Navigating Officer was RD ‘Roly’ Lewin, RB ‘Bunny’ Suri was the Gunnery Officer, RG ‘Gulu’ Kumar the Torpedo and Anti-Submarine Officer and I, the Signals Communications Officer.

In November, the command changed hands and Captain JS ‘Jaggi’ Bawa took over. In December, we started sailing for trials and were fully operational by the end of the year.

Early in January 1969, Trishul and Talwar sailed on a goodwill cruise to three Gulf countries. Our first stop was Kuwait. After the usual sightseeing, we were invited in the evening to a cocktail party by some Britishers working in the oil companies. The party was in the house of one of them. On arrival, we were asked what drink we would like, whisky substitute, rum substitute or gin substitute? We were perplexed and inquired what was this substitute business? Their reply,  “You see, there is prohibition in Kuwait, so we cannot buy liquor. However, we are allowed to distil our own liquor inside the home premises. Hence the ‘substitutes.’” After which we were taken on a tour of the back lawn where we were shown the mini distillery plants. The ‘substitutes’ were not bad at all!

In Kuwait, the two ships were at anchorage to start with but on the last day, they were shifted to the oil jetty for fuelling. After the ships had secured alongside, we were free to go ashore and return by 6 pm for sailing to Bahrain, our next port of call. As the oil jetty was quite far from the gate of the port complex, minibuses had been arranged to transport us from the ship to the gate and back.

Ashok Batra, who had wangled to be on board for the cruise after serving as Flag Lt to the CNS, and I went out and returned at about 5.45 pm. We found the driver sleeping in the minibus and asked him to take us to the ship. The latter said in his Arabic English, “Your ship gone.” We thought he was annoyed at our disturbing his nap and requested him to hurry as our ship had to sail shortly. But he was adamant and refused to move saying, no, there is no ship, I saw your ship sail about an hour ago and it is gone.

At that time, it was quite dark and we could not see the ships. The earth slipped from under our feet and Ashok and I were thunderstruck at the thought of being left behind in a foreign country. Just when all seemed lost, a car arrived and out came Jaggi Bawa and Cdr HKL Bhagat, CO Talwar. I cannot describe our relief at seeing them as we thought, “OK, we are safe. If the Captains are also stranded, we are in good company!”

Capt Bawa in his casual nonchalant style said, “Come on boys, let’s go.” We recounted what the driver had told us and the driver confirmed it. For a while, the Captains were stunned too but then Cdr Bhagat said, “The ships can’t sail. We are the two Captains and the ships can’t go without us.” At this, the driver reluctantly told us to get in and drove to the jetty. Sure enough, the ships were very much there well secured alongside!

We then learnt that the driver was not completely wrong. While getting ready to sail, it is normal to check the propellers by turning them slowly. In this case, the Engine Room had erred by providing too much steam with the result that the ship gathered momentum, the ropes securing the ship to the jetty snapped and the ship got underway. Roly Lewin, who was on the bridge, promptly ordered the anchors to be dropped and the ship was brought to a stop. Thereafter, tugs which were standing by, brought the ship back alongside and a major disaster was averted. The driver had seen the part where the ship broke off from the jetty and thought that the ships had sailed!

We sailed later that evening and reached Bahrain the next afternoon after a rough passage owing to ‘Shamal’, a strong north-eastern wind in those parts. Bahrain was more open than Kuwait with a large number of expatriates working in the oil industry. Ashok had the contact of a big businessman, Anwar Ashraf, who looked after us during our stay there. In particular, I remember going to an evening party which could have been straight out of James Bond’s Goldfinger with girls dressed in golden costumes and roulette tables to gamble on.

After four enjoyable days, we sailed to Sharjah which is less than an hour’s drive from Dubai which we could also visit for sightseeing and shopping. The highlight was a lunch hosted by the Ruler of Sharjah at which about 100 officers and sailors from each ship were invited. Add to it a large number of local invitees and you have about 500 people at a sit-down meal! There were three long tables for the guests with a smaller head table at right angles at one end for the Ruler, the two Captains, diplomats and local VIPs. Laid out on the tables at reachable intervals were large dishes of rice with huge pieces of camel meat sitting in the centre of the rice. Our Electrical Officer, Cdr 'L', a pukka brown sahib with impeccable manners, was impressed at the sight of the dish and expressed his appreciation to the local guests sitting next to him while most of us, not used to the idea of camel meat, were wondering what we were going to eat as there was precious else!

After settling in our chairs, we waited for the head of the table to start but were told by the locals to help ourselves because the custom was that the Ruler would only serve himself after all the guests had done so. As soon as we made a move, the locals dug into the camel meat tearing out large chunks with their bare hands. One of them bit into a piece and not quite liking it, put it back in the main dish. Cdr 'L', who was politely awaiting his turn, saw this, exclaimed disapprovingly, “I say!”, and thereafter stayed away from helping himself to the camel meat he was so eagerly looking forward to devouring. Vegetarians like me got to eat nothing anyway.

Sharjah marked the end of our cruise and as the Indian Fleet was already at sea, we were asked to join it off Bombay. On rendezvousing with the Fleet, we were ordered to take station ahead of the flagship Mysore which was leading the ships in a single column formation. This was unusual as in a column, ships are usually positioned in order of seniority of the Commanding Officers. We had barely reached our station when a wheel ('Corpen' in naval signal terms) to a new course was executed. This manoeuvre requires the leading ship to turn to the new course with the rest of the ships turning in its wake maintaining relative bearing and distances. The manoeuvre automatically transfers the role of the guide to the leading ship which identifies itself by hoisting the flag G on the masthead.

We started turning and just then our Chief Yeoman, the seniormost signals sailor on board, whispered to me, “Sir, we should be the guide.” I immediately shouted, "Hoist Golf (flag G)” and the flag was hoisted. Soon we were ordered to take our proper station down the line and the flagship resumed being the guide. Exercises continued and on completion, we happily returned to Bombay.

Subsequently during the debrief of the exercises, the FCO (Fleet Communications Officer) Lt Cdr “Clinker” Karve told me that our stationing at the head of the column and the wheeling were ordered with a view to check our quick reactions. The moment the Corpen signal was made, some eager bodies on the flagship pointed out, “Trishul has not hoisted Golf”. But before a ‘bottle’ (rebuke) could be broadcast, the flag went up silencing would-be critics. Situation saved and a favourable first impression created which shows how small issues can make a big difference.

Thereafter, we took part in a number of fleet exercises and the ship performed well. The four specialists, Roly Lewin, Bunny Suri, Gulu Kumar and I combined smoothly and functioned as a well-oiled team. Occasionally, there were hitches in the gunnery fire control system which actually was the responsibility of the Electrical department. However, as the Captain and Cdr ‘L’ were batchmates, the Captain took out his anger on poor Bunny who took all the ‘bottles’ calmly. Good old Bunny, God rest his soul.

I had an able assistant in Lt Mohan Singh, an ex-telegraphist who had risen to officer ranks. He looked after the communication sets and wireless operators and ensured they operated at high efficiency. He was a Marwari from Jodhpur, from my state of Rajasthan. When he went on leave, I asked him to get me a bottle of Kesar Kasturi, an exclusive and exquisite drink from Jodhpur so potent it appeared to set your body on fire!

At sea, Roly and I spent most of the day on the bridge of the ship. Roly was always hungry and the duty steward had instructions to constantly supply chopped ham sandwiches and sausages on the bridge. I must confess, that though a vegetarian, Roly ‘forced’ me into sharing the eats to the extent of my actually becoming fond of them and treating them as ‘veg’!

During the monsoon months of July and August, the aircraft carrier Vikrant was deployed on the East Coast in order to carry out flight operations unhindered by weather. Trishul was ordered to accompany Vikrant as the rescue ship in case of any aircraft emergency. One emergency did occur when an Alize piloted by Lt Ashok ‘Aku’ Roy had an engine failure and had to ditch. We charged to the spot and started lowering a boat when Vikrant’s helicopter beat us to it by picking up the three-men crew, Aku, Lt ‘Harry’ Sirohi and a sailor. It was a testimony to Aku’s skill as a pilot that he made a perfect landing in choppy sea to enable all three to get out of the aircraft safe and unhurt. Two years later, Aku’s luck was to run out when he and Sirohi fell victims to a Pak fighter shooting them down in the ’71 war.

On the East Coast, Madras was our base where Vikrant and Trishul returned for weekends. Madras was a fun city with friendly people who welcomed us and organized events to keep us busy. One regular feature was a hockey match between the ships and a girls’ team called ‘Shamrocks’. If I remember right, the men had to play one-handed and did not mind losing to the girls!

We had a boisterous wardroom and kept ourselves entertained with loud music much to the discomfort of our Cdr ’L’ who was the Mess President but stayed away from the wardroom except for meals. ‘60s were the famous decade for pop music and songs of those days are unforgettable and popular to this day. Tom Jones, Englebert Humperdinck, Simon and Garfunkel, Aretha Franklin and  Creedence Clearwater Revival were coming up with one hit after another. Beatles were still on top of the pops and Roly and I would keep up the ‘la-la-la-lalala-lala of Hey Jude long after the disc was over. Some singles are worth mentioning too: Lulu’s “To Sir With Love”, Archies’ “Sugar Sugar”, Sam the Sham’s “Wooly Bully’ and Herman’s Hermits’ “I Am Into Something Good”. As Mary Hopkin sang, “Those were the Days”!

We returned to Bombay end-August when Bunny Suri decided to get hitched. He threw a big cocktail party which went long into the night at the end of which Jayanto Roy Chowdhry, JK ‘Lala’ Talwar and I decided to step out and eat at Bade Miya’s stall near Taj Hotel. When we got there, we found he had packed up. Hungry as we were, we decided to go to Sea Lounge at the Taj. We ordered Swedish Open sandwiches and the waiter brought a large tray of assorted ones. One each was not enough and Roy Chow assured us that he had had these before and the price on the menu was for the whole tray. So we gorged ourselves but when the bill came, found that we had been charged for every single piece we had eaten. Roy Chow and I said we had no money and Lala Talwar had to shell out a substantial sum cursing us with a “You and your Swedish Open Sandwiches”!

India’s first discotheque, Blow Up, had started functioning at the Taj and with the latest sound system and psychedelic lights, was a big attraction. One evening, Gulu Kumar invited two girls to the ship and asked me to join. After a few drinks we decided to go to Blow Up. I settled down looking forward to a long evening of enjoyable music and atmosphere while Gulu and the girls engaged in some talk. Abruptly, Gulu drew my attention and said he and the girls had had a big fight. He took out his car keys and asked me to drop them at Malabar Hill as he did not want to be with them. It all happened too fast and in a kind of daze, I found myself driving Gulu’s car with the girls seated at the back. As I drove, I started musing over the strange turn of events which had me driving Gulu’s friends instead of relaxing at Blow Up while he, whose guests they were, had washed his hands off them! By now, I was in a rage which kept rising and I started driving fast. Suddenly near Taraporevala Aquarium, the right wheels of the car went over the foot-high divider. The girls screamed but I kept driving at the same speed with the car tilted on the separator till the crossing when the car thudded back on the road. I kept going and on reaching their house, told them to leave. I headed back to Blow Up where I examined the car and the damage. I found Gulu and recounted what had happened and offered to pay for the repairs. We went back to the ship and next morning, Gulu got in touch with his insurance agent who said he would take care of the damage. Gulu also got a call from the girls who told him that his friend was mad!

The amazing part was that the car did not overturn and kept going and none of us even had a scratch. A testament to my driving skills developed from the age of 13!

In October, I went to Delhi as a member of the Navy Golf team to take part in the Inter-Services tournament. I visited my old boss, Admiral Chatterji, the CNS, and had a pleasant tete-a-tete with him. Later, I was told by his Flag Lt Cdr, Avinash Bhatia, that the Admiral had said to him, “Ravi came and spent an hour with me and did not even ask for anything!”

By the time I returned to Bombay, I learnt that NHQ was setting up a Weapons Acceptance Trials Team (WATT), including a Communicator, that would be sent to UK for a 3-month course. The team would inspect the equipment for the Leander class frigates which were being constructed in Mazagon Docks, Bombay. I thought since the Admiral himself expected me to ask for something, there was no harm in my bidding to be on the WATT team. So I wrote to Avinash asking him to suggest my name to the CNS. Promptly came a letter from NHQ that I was in the team and to standby for further instructions.

Little did I know that I had ruffled some feathers. Viji Malhotra who was Asstt Director Naval Signals (ADNS) told me that Cmde EJ Debu, DNS, and Cdr APS Radhakrishnan, DDNS, were most upset at being told by the CNS who should be on the WATT team. They could not say no to the CNS but Ravi Sharma was in the doghouse!

By that time, Trishul had been nominated to go to Japan for EXPO in early 1970 and all transfers were frozen. DNS visited Trishul and told me that I was being transferred to Signal School Cochin in a month. I pointed out that according to NHQ policy, there were to be no transfers at this stage. He said no, this did not apply to me as I was standby to go to UK and should be available at short notice and that Lt THR Iyer had already been appointed to take over from me!

I joined the Signal School in the last week of December '69 and so ended my happy and rewarding stay on Trishul.

P.S. India had by then placed an order for some ships and missile boats from the Soviet Union much to the annoyance of UK which till then was our major supplier. As a result, the Royal Navy cancelled the WATT course making me miss both Japan and UK and staying put in Co-Co-Co-Cochin for 22 months!