COMMANDING KATCHALL

 

I took over command of Katchall at Vishakhapatnam on Saturday 19 February 1977. Katchall, constructed in USSR, was classified as a corvette or light frigate with a full load displacement of 1150 tons. Her basic role was anti-submarine for which she was armed with torpedoes and rockets. Her normal speed on the main diesel engine was 16 knots which could be boosted up to 30 by connecting two gas turbines.

Pitaji, my Nana, considered Saturdays auspicious and had chosen that day for his swearing in as a high court judge. I decided to follow that belief and found that it was a good day for another reason. At that time, Saturdays were half working days known traditionally in the Navy as ‘make and mend’ days from old times when sailors were not officially supplied with uniforms and had to make and mend their own. So after taking over the new responsibility, one would have a day and a half to mull over how to proceed with the new task.

Following my scooter accident in Delhi, my head was bandaged but fortunately I was able to put on my cap and be properly dressed for the occasion. My predecessor, Cdr TN Krishnaswamy, escorted me for the ceremony known as Divisions, and other formalities and was then seen off by me. Thereafter I followed the convention of addressing the ship’s company so that all men could get to see and hear the new Captain. I kept my speech short and devoid of sensationalism unlike old Cdr PN ‘Peter’ Mathur who had famously told his sailors, “Mein Khuda to nahin, par aapke liye Khuda se kam bhi nahin hoon!”

I also did not intend to copy Capt Zadu in not having a haircut during my tenure but decided to preserve long, bushy sideburns as my distinctive feature.

On the ship, my second-in-command (XO) was Lt Cdr Vimal Kumar. We took a few days to get to know each other and had a point of difference to start with. He wanted to appoint someone as Mess Secretary but I wanted the job to be given to one Lt CP Sharma who had impressed me. Vimal said that as President of the Mess Committee, it was his prerogative to appoint whoever he wanted. I told him that while normally he would have the freedom to do as he liked but if I felt something should be done, he would have to follow my direction. After that, Vimal and I got on very well and had no further point of discord during my entire tenure. Incidentally, CP now runs a successful travel agency in Delhi.

In the Eastern Naval Command, there were two changes on top shortly after my taking over. Vice Admiral SH Sarma, who was the Fleet Commander when I was Fleet Communcations Officer during the 1971 war, took over as C-in-C and Rear Admiral MK (Mickey) Roy took over as Fleet Commander (FOCEF) from Rear Admiral DS Paintal.

When I took over, Katchall was in dry docks undergoing a refit. Soon, it was time to move out of the docks to a jetty. Our engines were still not ready and the move was planned by using tugs. I thought this was an ideal time to try my hand at using ‘Povrots’, the famous active rudders, which are not really meant for movement on their own as they provide a speed of just 3 knots and are primarily meant to supplement the main rudder. So while the tugs were kept as standby, we made the move by ourselves. The thrill of handling the ship for the first time is an exciting moment for any Captain as once all shore lines have been cast off, the ship is at the mercy of wind and tide and it is imperative that the Captain give the correct orders to handle the ship with precision and elan. In this case it was even more so as it was an unusual move and I was using an unfamiliar equipment. All went well and I got the hang of the Povrots.

Soon the refit was complete and we started sailing for trials. Fortunately, everything went smoothly including the indigenous gas turbine rubber mountings which had caused some officers senior to me to decline this command. On completion of trials, we joined the Eastern Fleet under Adm Roy.

The normal routine for exercises was operating off Vizag Tuesdays to Fridays. Weekends were usually free and I felt it was important to keep the sailors and families busy as Vizag had very few outside attractions. Some of the major activities I recall included a picnic at the famous Simhachalam temple grounds and a Cycle race from Vizag to Bheemunipatnam, a distance of about 40 kms. Families and non-participants were transported by bus to join in the prize distribution headed by Adm Roy followed by a hearty lunch.

Sports are very important for the morale of the ship’s company and we cobbled up some competent teams which acquitted well in Football, Hockey and Volleyball.

Things were running smoothly till later in the year, Vimal proceeded on a spot of leave and the mantle of XO fell on the next officer who was a junior Lieutenant with little experience. Captain L Ramdas, later CNS, was then commanding 32nd Patrol Vessel Squadron at Bombay and brought his ships to Vizag. He made the courtesy call signal to FOCEF, Adm Roy, who at short notice decided to take the call on Katchall. We quickly got together a guard of honour on the Rocket launcher deck and dressed up in formal uniform. Adm Roy arrived followed by Capt Ramdas. On the latter’s arrival, when the guard went through the drill of presenting arms, the bayonets went piercing through the low awning we had omitted to remove. A snigger from Capt Ramdas, embarrassment all around and dirty looks from Adm Roy ensued. Then the Admiral, Capt Ramdas and I adjourned to the Captain’s cabin for drinks. When I rang up for the steward, he arrived in slept-in shirt and shorts and sandals in contrast to our sparkling white tunics, trousers and shoes, medals and swords! On Capt Ramdas’ departure, I got a good dressing down from Adm Roy.

Vimal returned from leave and to get over the incident, I decided to head to Jaipur for a short holiday. On return, Vimal and I got together and vowed we would meticulously ensure that from then on, nothing would go wrong.   

Kavaratti and Katchall share their commissioning date on 23 December. We had sailed for exercises and returned to harbour in the afternoon on that day. We had planned a combined dinner in the evening and were berthed together with Kavaratti alongside the jetty and Katchall next to her. The party was attended by all the VIPs in Vizag including the C-in-C, FOCEF and important civilians. The merrymaking went on till late at night and after the VIPs left, I asked my friends Kailash Kohli, Fleet Operations Officer, and Gulab Israni to adjourn to my cabin to have one for the road. While we were sharing hearty jokes, at about midnight Kailash received a phone call from Adm Roy. Kailash told me that the tug Gaj which had towed a target for our firing practice earlier in the day, had not returned and they had no communication with her. FOCEF wanted a ship to sail, find Gaj and bring it back to harbour. Actually, Kavaratti was the duty ship but she had played the seniority card in berthing and being the inner ship, it would take a lot of time and effort to pull Katchall away and clear the way for Kavaratti, so why not I sail instead! Good idea, and I told the Officer of the Day (OOD) to recall as many sailors and officers as possible and get ready for sea expeditiously.  Kailash said he would like to sail with us and went home to change. I told the OOD that I would try and catch a shuteye and to wake me up when ready. 

At 2 am, I was given a shake and told we were ready. Apart from the duty watch and live-in officers and sailors, we were not able to get many others including senior key personnel on board. On the bridge, there were a number of fresh young faces instead of the usual experienced lot. But they were all keen and we set sail and were out of the harbor by 3 a.m.

With heavy heads, Kailash and I decided we must hit the hay for some time. To play safe, we set course east at slow speed and went to sleep. We got up at first light and taking into account the tidal current, decided our best chance to find Gaj would be by going south at high speed. This worked and in a couple of hours, we spotted Gaj. We closed in and found that Gaj had had a total power failure and had been merrily drifting the whole night. Fortunately, the weather was calm, so there was no damage.

The first thing we did was send them some hot food. Thereafter we took them in tow and reached Vizag safely in the afternoon.

At the debrief, Adm Roy praised us for sailing at such short notice, finding Gaj and bringing it back. He, however, had a question, “Why did you go east initially?”  Some vague waffle mentioning complex tidal currents and circulatory wind directions was mumbled by Kailash and me. Thankfully, the matter was not pursued!

Getting back to our anniversary celebrations, enterprising Vimal had booked Leela Mahal Cinema on Christmas Day for a special show of the movie ‘Kora Kagaz’ starring Jaya Bhaduri and Vijay Anand. We had invited ships’ companies and families of all fleet ships and a good time was had by all.

In January ’78, we had our harbor and sea inspections which went off well. Thereafter, Adm Roy took Kavaratti and Katchall to Calcutta where we were given a great welcome. Calcutta has always been a good port for ships to visit and in this case it was specially so given Adm Roy’s local contacts. Of note was a dance performance by Tanushree, daughter-in-law of the famous Uday Shankar. I was so impressed by the former that I wanted our daughter to be named after her but Akhila prevailed with Shumita!

Visit completed, both ships sailed out. In the meantime, a warning was received that a cyclonic storm was developing in the Bay of Bengal. Kavaratti connected gas turbines and headed for Vizag at high speed but for some reason which I do not recall, perhaps lack of availability or a leak, Katchall was short of fuel and we could not use gas turbines for fear of running out of oil. So we were confined to a maximum speed of 16 knots on diesel engine only.

The night was uneventful but in the morning, the storm was in full blow. The sea was very rough and the wind hurricane strong. Katchall was bobbing up and down with the bows pitching up 25 degrees, a mass of 1150 tons of steel suspended at that angle for a second before plunging back into the giant waves which would go flying over the bridge and the mast. With each downward dive into the sea, the ship shivered and shuddered as if it would break! Visibility was very low made worse by rain and sea spray all over and the radar showed nothing but whorls of the cyclone. Scenes described in Nicholas Monsarrat’s novel ‘The Cruel Sea’ seemed to be playing in real life reminding one of how brutal the sea can be. At a time like this, the Captain is in a most unenviable position: he is virtually alone on the ship which is not even a tiny speck on the vast ocean, yet he is solely responsible for the ship and the sailors for whom, as Peter Mathur had said, he is ‘Khuda’!

Almost all of the ship’s company were seasick. I, who as a cadet used to be desperately sick and curse myself for joining the Navy, could now not afford that luxury and was in full charge of my faculties proving that responsibility is the greatest antidote to seasickness. I calmly sat on the Captain’s chair keeping an eye on things and hoping for the best.

I must have dozed off for a while because when I looked up after sometime, I found there was no one on the bridge. The duty officer, the helmsman and the signalman were nowhere to be seen. The ship, instead of facing the waves, seemed to be rolling excessively. I sprang from my chair and looked at the gyro which showed the course as correct. Something made me look at the magnetic compass and I found that instead of steering south, we were heading west towards land. Obviously, the gyro had failed. I grabbed the wheel and brought the ship around 180 degrees to head east. I didn’t know how long we had been sailing towards land and disaster, so I decided to keep steering away from the coast for two hours at least.

Meanwhile, the duty personnel who had all been terribly sick trooped in one by one. They were in such a miserable state I couldn’t even scold them! After a couple of hours, we resumed our course southward. By night, the weather had calmed a bit and I decided to keep the ship on a safe course and get some sleep.

Waking up at dawn, I saw the weather had cleared considerably and the gyro and the radar were functioning correctly. We found we had fetched up farther south and east than estimated and altered course to return to Vizag.

Meanwhile, I received my letter of appointment as Directing Staff, Defence Services Staff College, Wellington. Cdr VK Nagpal was appointed CO Katchall to relieve me.

In early March, the fleet sailed to observe Families’ Day which was my final outing in command. By this time, Adm Roy had become fond of Katchall and decided to fly his flag on my ship though I was not the seniormost CO which is generally the norm for the flagship. The day went off very well and my command came to a successful end.

In my final interview with Adm Roy, he expressed satisfaction with my performance but for a small caveat. He said, “Ravi, you have done very well but I only want to say that you should never lose bearing”. This term is normally signaled to a ship which falls behind its usual station. But in the context Adm Roy used it, I have often wondered if he had a deeper meaning!

All that remained for me was to hand over to Cdr Nagpal and pack up for Wellington.

 

CAN ONE BE YOUNG AND THE OLD 'GAY'?

As I began shaving this morning, Paul Robeson’s bass baritone boomed into my mind singing ‘Old Black Joe’ with the lines ‘Gone are the days, when my heart was young and gay’. Then I thought, maybe I can work on feeling young at heart but, hey, what about ‘gay’? 

This word which is believed to have originated in the 12th century from Anglo-French and Germanic languages, used to mean joyous, lively, merry, happy, carefree, etc. and only that. There is an Australian nursery rhyme which the venerable Father Mackessack taught me to sing in school,              ‘Kookaburra sits on an old gum tree,                                                                                                        Merry merry king of the bush is he,                                                                                                        Laugh, Kookaburra laugh, Kookaburra gay your life must be’.                                                                  Poor bird, today it would probably get askance looks from the orthodox and the conservative!

Through the years till my younger days, many popular songs used the word ‘gay’ in its original context. ‘Old Black Joe’ is an 1860 song. To mention a few others, in 1945 a Rodgers and Hammerstein musical “State Fair” won the best original song award for a song with the lyrics ‘But I feel so gay, it might as well be spring’. In the 1960s, the musical “West Side Story” has a song that goes, ‘I feel pretty, oh so pretty, I feel pretty and witty and gay’. The theme song of the movie “Around the World in 80 Days” sings praises of ‘gay Paree’ and in “The Last Time I Saw Paris”, ‘her heart was warm and gay’.

In Hank Williams’ ‘Jambalaya’, ‘Pick guitar, fill fruit jar and be gay-oh, Son of a gun we’ll have big fun on the bayou’. And in the evergreen Dean Martin’s ‘That’s Amore’, ‘Hearts will play tippy-tippy-tay, tippy-tippy-tay, like a gay tarantella’ which is a fast tempo Italian folk dance.

As late as 1997, Bob Dylan sang ‘I’m strummin’ on my gay guitar’ and the most recent use of the word in the old sense that I could find was in the 2007 Disney movie ‘Enchanted’ in the lyrics ‘To the gay refrain of a happy song’. 

Its use in literature is illustrated by this quote from the famous Pearl S. Buck in her 1948 novel, ‘The Big wave’, in which she writes, ‘Setsu grew into a gay, wilful, pretty girl’. Its spoken and written usage has been commonplace as in ‘gay abandon’, ‘gay laughter’, ‘gay tune’, ‘gayest of the spring flowers’ and ‘a bird’s gay spring song’.

The word is a name too as in the English poet John Gay. And the Boeing B-29 bomber which was the first aircraft to drop an atomic bomb in the closing stages of World War II was named 'The Enola Gay' after the mother of the pilot, Colonel Tibbets. Can you imagine even a remote homosexual connection there!

Somewhere in the 1950s, the word underwent a transformation and became a convenient one to use instead of homosexual. Today that has become its primary meaning pushing the merrymaking and happiness context to near obscurity. When someone says 'gay', one immediately identifies it with homosexuality never imagining he could be meaning 'happiness'. It is now part of LGBT.

I can try to feel young but have no desire to be gay. Or be content remembering the song sung by Maurice Chevalier in Gigi, “I’m glad I’m not young anymore’!

I often wonder if there is any other word in the English language which has been subjected to such a metamorphosis as the word 'gay'.

JAIPUR LOVES ME

Often I have written and spoken about my love for Jaipur. When returning to Delhi after a recent visit, I was wondering why I love Jaipur so much when the answer came joyfully screaming back at me, ‘Because Jaipur loves me’!

Jaipur treats me as a young man. Our domestic staff there have been working with us since my mother's time and while she was ‘Mummy’ to them, I was ‘Bhaisahib’ and remain so. Nobody addresses me with the plain, formal ‘Sahib’, ‘Sir’ or ‘Unkilji’ as they do in Delhi! And Akhila is ‘Bhabhiji’.

At the same time, there is more respect in Jaipur. People are polite, courteous and deferential in contrast to the cold unconcern of Delhi. Diggi Palace is a stone’s throw from our house and a number of Rickshawwallahs pile up there waiting for customers. When I walk past, they all get up and do a ‘Namaste’. I usually take an evening walk on the green, green grass in the nearby Maharaja College and the watchmen, far from questioning me, respectfully greet me when I enter and if I get late, patiently wait for me to exit before closing the gates. The neighbours are all hospitable, warm and helpful.

In Jaipur, we feel welcome and wanted. I ring up a veteran 9 years my senior and he immediately organizes a dinner and calls other mutual friends. A former Navy Chief wants to play golf with me. Other friends and relatives ask when we are free to come over. In Delhi, no one gives a damn!

We go to a shop and the shopkeeper knows what we want and lays out a spread of ice creams and dark chocolates. We book a table at the Rambagh Hotel and the Manager is at the porch to receive us. At the neighbourhood Coffee shop, the waiter wonders why we are coming after so long. At Niro’s, the manager smilingly confirms that they still serve sundaes such as Honeymoon Special and Knickerbocker Glory which I used to have when in school in the 1950s. He sends one of each with his compliments.

To feel younger, I often walk down the street where we lived 70 years ago. The government house on 3 Hospital Road is still standing and the paint is not cracked and dry. I see the driveway where we used to play Cricket. If I didn’t have company, I just played alone in the verandah on the right by bouncing the ball on the wall and hitting it on return. Many India-Pakistan ‘test matches’ were played that way! And there’s the balcony where a kid relative of ours sleepwalked over the parapet, fell on the flowerbed down below, dusted himself and walked off nonchalantly. Shashi Mamaji named him ‘Kabutar’ which name stuck to him for life!

Sadly, ‘Ananda’, Pitaji’s own house on the adjacent Vivekanand Marg where we lived for over 50 years, does not exist any more but beautiful memories are vividly alive. Fortunately, Mummy built her house on a portion of the plot, so the air that we breathe and the ground that we live on are the same. It helps that Akhila also loves Jaipur. She is proud of her little garden which she tends to fondly and is gratified that her efforts are rewarded with fruit and flowers on each visit.

A visit to my old School, St. Xavier’s, is a must. The majestic multi-coloured stone building has me enthralled and I can feel Fathers Pinto, Mackessack and Mann graciously blessing me.

It is a record that during every visit of ours, and we average 4-5 a year, it rains at least once in Jaipur no matter what the season. In our recent 3-week visit in March, it rained thrice and the weather turned heavenly. Every evening, a peacock family paid us a visit and for our exclusive viewing, the male performed an extended dance show on the roof of an adjacent house while the female and siblings strutted about.

Yes, the feeling is mutual. I love Jaipur and Jaipur loves me.

MY TOP ITALIAN SONGS

 

 

 

You knew it was coming, didn’t you?  My favourite Italian songs.

 

I love Italy and everything about it: its countryside, art, sculpture, food, the sound of its sweet language, beautiful women, handsome men, movies, songs and everything else! Sometimes people tell me I don’t look like an Indian and I hate that, immediately correcting them saying I am 100% Indian and proud to be so. But in Italy, when someone told me I could pass off for an Italian, I let it go smugly!

 

I have been to Italy four times and each time thrown a coin in the Trevi Fountain. Three times it has worked- I have revisited Italy, but the fourth coin’s magic is awaited. Will it work? Or would it lead to being born in Italy in my next life!

 

I have digressed: back to songs. Generalisations are not entirely fair but since I wrote about French songs earlier, to me it appears that the French are a little sad and brooding while the Italians are happier and more open with their emotions and not afraid of wearing the heart on the sleeve.

 

Now for the hard part. I love so many Italian songs that it is tough to select. However, I will attempt with two provisos: one, many will be left out because of sheer numbers and space, and two, songs listed will not be in any particular order: they are all equally good.

 

First, there are the evergreen Neapolitan songs exclusive to Italy. They date back to 1835 when the first music festival took place in Naples and was held annually till late 1940s. The songs became very popular from end-19^th century and remain so till the present. Most of them have been sung by every famous tenor starting with Enrico Caruso, Mario Lanza and Beniamino Gigli down to the modern 3 tenors, Jose Carreras, Placido Domingo and my favourite Luciano Pavarotti, and the youngest, Andrea Bocelli.  Apart from the usual theme of love, many of the songs celebrate the sun, the sea and the city of Naples or lament the greatest tragedy for a Neapolitan which is not death but absence from Naples.

 

I have four favourites.  I was introduced to the first one by Vinnie Mama when he brought a 78 rpm disc of ‘Santa Lucia’ by Enrico Caruso on his return from a Europe visit in the early 1950s. In fact, ‘Santa Lucia’ happens to be the first Neapolitan song to be given Italian lyrics in 1849. The song is an invitation by a boatman to sail in his boat along the picturesque waterfront of Santa Lucia district in the Gulf of Naples.

 

‘Funiculi Funicula’ was composed in 1880 to mark the opening of the first funicular on Mount Vesuvius. ‘O Sole Mio’ (My Sun) is probably the most popular and won the Grammy award for Luciano Pavarotti in 1980. ‘Torna e Surriento’ (Come Back to Sorrento) praises the scenic surroundings of Sorrento. Twice I have had the pleasure of sailing in a boat from Capri to Sorrento and then a train ride to Naples and the beauty of the sea and coastline are fabulous beyond words.

 

Coming to other Italian songs, let me start with three numbers which I always requested for when visiting a nightclub or restaurant during my visits to Rome. First, ‘Il Mondo’ (The World), a 1965 hit by Jimmy Fontana and arranged by the well-known composer Ennio Morricone. For Fontana, it was his most successful recording. Inevitably, it had English versions titled ‘My World’ of which I like Englebert Humperdinck’s the best.

 

‘Al Di La’ (Beyond) sung by Betty Curtis was the Italian entry in the Eurovision song contest in 1961 but the version I like best is by Emilio Pericoli who mesmerized Troy Donahue and Suzanne Pleshette and us in the 1962 movie ‘Rome Adventure’ also known as ‘Lovers Must Learn’. It became a great hit both in the US and UK. Donahue and Pleshette’s screen romance turned real leading to their marriage a few years later!

 

‘Grande Grande Grande’ (Great Great Great) sung by the Italian singer Mina was the no.1 hit in Italy in 1972. Its lyrics were written by the famous singer Julio Iglesias along with two others. Sample the lyrics (translated) to get the flavor of the song, ‘I hate you, then I love you, and then I love you, then I hate you, and then I love you……You are great, great, great….’ This song was titled ‘Never Never Never’ in English and sung with equal passion by Shirley Bassey. The English lyrics are also similar: ‘I love you, hate you, love you, hate you…..I never, never, never want to be in love with anyone but you’.

 

Umberto Tozzi is a great Italian pop singer and I love his ‘Gloria’ which was a big hit in Italy in 1979-80. The English version of this song by Laura Branigan is equally good and was on top of the pops in many countries including 36 weeks in US in 1982. At least two other hits of Tozzi are worth listening to again and again, ‘Ti Amo’ (I love you) and ‘Tu’ (You). Along with ‘Gloria’, these are guaranteed to chase your Corona blues away!

 

In 1958, Italian singer Domenico Mondugno recorded ‘Nel Blu Dipinto Di Blu’ (In The Blue, Painted Blue) which became an instant hit internationally. It was then sung in an English-Italian mix by Dean Martin as ‘Volare’ (To Fly) which too became a global hit. Its popularity lasts till today and it ranks among the best known Italian songs worldwide.

 

Dean Martin, original name Dino Paul Crocetti who had an Italian father and Italian-American mother, will be remembered as the person who truly injected Italian flavor in English songs and some of them are worth recalling here though they are not strictly Italian. ‘That’s Amore’ is a love song ‘in Napoli where love is king ….. when the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, That’s Amore’. In the pre-fast food joints era, that’s when I first heard of a pizza! ‘Innamorata’ is an ode to a sweetheart while in ‘An Evening in Roma’, the lonely singer is envious of couples that he sees on the streets of Rome and invites his girlfriend to meet him perhaps for an espresso.

 

Let me mention here that there is a group called ‘Il Volo’ consisting of three handsome guys aged 26-27 who sing most of the songs mentioned above beautifully and very often, I play them on TV. Appropriately, they call their style of singing ‘popera’!

 

In an Italian-American musical of 1957 'Seven Hills of Rome', Mario Lanza sang 'Arrividerci Roma' which familiarised us with the Italian 'farewell'. 

It is now time to sing ‘Buena Sera' (Good night) a la Louis Prima.

 

ADDENDUM TO MY FAVOURITE FRENCH SONGS

I would like to add two more songs to my list of favourite French songs.

The first one is the haunting theme from the highly emotional movie, 'Un homme et une femme (A man and a woman). The composer was Francis Lai who gained international fame after this 1966 film score and won the Golden Globe award for it. He would go on to sweep all possible awards in 1970 for the musical score of the even more emotional movie, 'Love Story'.

The second song is 'Les feuilles mortes' (Dead leaves).This was composed for a 1946 French movie 'Les portes de la nuit' (Gates of the night) and sung by Irene Joachim. Johnny Mercer gave it English lyrics and it was first sung by Jo Stafford in 1950 as 'Autumn leaves'. It became a top hit and soon all famous English singers were recording it including Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra and Doris Day. Of course, all of us love the unforgettable Nat King Cole version of it.

Not that well-known, but the pianist Roger Williams' instrumental recording of it was the no.1 bestseller in 1955.

MY FAVOURITE FRENCH SONGS

I don't know French or Italian. That does not mean I can't enjoy songs in those languages.

A good singer can convey feelings, emotions and passion with the delivery, modulation of voice and tone, rhythm, etc. Lyrics, of course, play an important part but a well-sung song can tug at one's heartstrings without understanding them. Once one is hooked, one can go through the translations and in almost all cases one would find that the sense of the song could be correctly interpreted right at the first listening. 

So here are my top favourite French songs.

Top of the list is 'Ne me quitte pas' (Don't leave me) which gripped me from the first time I heard it during a visit to a restaurant in Rome in January 1976. I don't even remember whether on that occasion it was sung in French or Italian but that was the title told to me when I inquired. The original French song is by a Belgian singer, Jacques Brel, and there is a moving story behind it. Brel wrote and sang it in 1959 after his mistress threw him out of her life. The song is sung in a halting, expressive and passionate way, something like a soliloquy, and moves one to tears. Brel himself called it "a hymn to the cowardice of men", a degree to which they were willing to humiliate themselves. Frenchmen said it was sung at a time at which men weren't allowed to cry for women who didn't want them anymore and even the famous French singer Edith Piaf said the song had complete lack of virility. With all that, it is rated by many as the no. 1 French song of all time and has been sung in many languages around the world. The song's English version 'If you go away' was first popularised by Rod McKuen but I love Shirley Bassey's version of it.

Next is 'La mer' (The Sea) by Charles Trenet. He wrote the lyrics of the song when just 16 but set the tune in 1943 when travelling by train between Montpellier and Parpignan gazing out of the window at a lagoon in South of France. After an initial cold shoulder, the song became an unexpected hit when Trenet himself recorded it in 1946. Subsequently, it has become the best selling French song along with Edith Piaf's "La vie en rose'. It has versions all over the world with 4000 recordings and over 70 million copies as per a 2001 count. A smooth, very listenable English version is 'Beyond the sea' by Bobby Darin. It has also been sung by all-time greats, Julio Iglesias and Demis Roussos. I was first introduced to it by my Vinnie Mama after he heard it during his visit to France in 1954. And one of my sweet memories is of a train journey from Livorno to Civitavecchia overlooking the deep blue sea waters of the Tuscan Arch and humming the song when I fulfilled a long-standing promise to Akhila of a trip to Italy in 2004. 

Third on the list is 'Et maintenant' (And now) by Gilbert Becaud recorded in 1961. The song is about the desperation of a man surrounded by emptiness after his love has deserted him. Apart from the emotional singing, what is captivating in the original song is the recurring music pattern in the background from Ravel's Bolero. That really makes it unique. Its English version 'What now my love', also became very popular with big names like Elvis Presley, Frank Sinatra and Shirley Bassey singing it and Herb Alpert providing a very catchy instrumental rendition.

When talking of French songs, one has to include the legendary Edith Piaf and she is on my list with her signature tune, 'La vie en rose' (literally 'Life in Pink' or life in rosy hues). This was written in 1945 and released as a single in 1947. Sung in a smooth, easy style, it expresses the joy of finding true love and was very appealing to people who lived through the difficult times of World War II. It created a record when 7 English versions of it reached the US Billboard charts in 1950. The singers included Edith Piaf herself, Bing Crosby, Dean Martin and Louis Armstrong. Edith Piaf became internationally famous after this song. This was another song which was heard by Vinnie Mama during his 1954 visit and who familiarised me with it.

'L'amour est bleu' (Love is blue) describing pleasure and pain of love in terms of colours blue and grey and elements water and wind is next. It was first performed in French by the Greek singer Vicky Leandros but my favourite is the brilliant instrumental version played by Paul Mauriat and his Orchestra. In 1967, Mauriat's version became the only instrumental by a French orchestra leader to hit the number 1 spot on the US Billboard Hot 100, a record held till 2017. A video is available today with the visuals providing the appropriate mood and colours of the song.

Finally on the list is 'Petite fleur' (Little flower), originally a non-French instrumental with Monty Sunshine playing a clarinet solo with Chris Barber's Jazz Band in 1959. It was particularly popular in the Gunroom (as the Midshipmen's wardroom is called) of Mysore when a number of my fellow midshipmen were vying for a date with a girl named Fleur. In 1964, it was vocalised in French by Petula Clark, better known in the English music world for her super hits 'Downtown' and 'This is my song'. Her lovely version finds a place in the best all-time French songs compiled by a lot of music critics.

That completes my list but at the risk of being termed vain, I am going to smuggle in another song not quite French but I deem it eligible as the title and its singer are both French. It is 'Je ne sais pas' (I do not know) by Brigitte Bardot in the 1955 British comedy film 'Doctor at sea' based on the hilarious novel by Richard Gordon. Bardot, playing a nightclub singer, naughtily sings, 'Je ne sais pas..... there are many things I don't know but I do know this, that I love you, love you, love you, je ne sais!' to Dirk Bogarde who many said I resembled in my youth!

A WODEHOUSE GOLF TALE

When recounting golf stories, it is impossible not to remember PG Wodehouse and his hilarious tales. When writing about my golf foursome, a story that was buzzing in my head was 'The Clicking of Cuthbert', one of his best. Allow me to summarise it here- those who are familiar with it would surely laugh on being refreshed and those that haven't, I would strongly recommend that they read the original.

The story, written in 1916, is about a proficient golfer, Cuthbert Banks, who has won the French Open and plays with legendary golfing figures like Harry Vardon and Abe Mitchell. One day while playing at his Club, he hits a bad shot which, through a window, lands at the table of the adjacent Wood Hills Literary and Debating Society which is holding a serious discussion. Cuthbert barges in and being a conscientious golfer, insists on playing the ball 'as it lies' from the table with his niblick. There his eyes fall on pretty Adeline Smethurst and Cuthbert is immediately smitten and falls in love. He proceeds to woo her but she says she wants to marry an intellectual and a person of standing and good golf and French Open mean nothing to her. Intent on pursuing her, Cuthbert decides to join the Literary Society but as time passes, it does not seem to be doing any good for his matrimonial chances or his golf.

The Society invites a famous Russian writer, Vladimir Brusiloff, to give a talk followed by a party at Adeline's aunt's place. A budding local writer, Raymond Parsloe Devine who Adeline has her eyes on, decides to engage Brusiloff in a learned conversation and states that he is an admirer of famous Soviet writers such as Sovietski and Nastikoff with whom his own writings are being compared.

By now Brusiloff, for whom this is the 82nd meeting in UK which he has undertaken only for the money, has had enough of such conversations and lashes out, "Sovietski no good. I spit me of Sovietski. Nastikoff no good. Nastikoff worse than Sovietski. I spit me of Nastikoff. PG Wodehouse and Tolstoi not bad. Not good but not bad. No novelist any good but me."

A deafening silence descends on the room while Raymond, completely flabbergasted, slinks away. Adeline's aunt tries to revive the party and asks Brusiloff which famous Britishers he has met. He says he has met many, Lloyd George, etc. but is pining to meet people he really admires such as Arbmishel and Arreevadon. Everyone is foxed because no one is able to recognise these names but Cuthbert, hitherto hiding in a corner, sheepishly volunteers, "I think he means Abe Mitchell and Harry Vardon." 

On hearing this, Brusiloff rushes to Cuthbert and asks if he knows them. Cuthbert says he plays with them very often. Brusiloff is annoyed that he was not 'introducted' to this man so far and on hearing the name Cuthbert Banks, excitedly screams, "Banks, not Cootaboot Banks! Yais! Yais! Cootaboot! I saw you win ze French Open. Will you permit one who is but eighteen at Nijni-Novgorod to salute you" and proceeds to kiss Cuthbert a couple of times.

The rest of the evening is spent with Brusiloff cornering Cuthbert in an engaging conversation recounting his golf games including an exciting one against Lenin and Trotsky in which the latter has a 2" inch putt for a win but is distracted by a bang caused by someone indulging in "our great national sport, trying to assassinate Lenin with rewolwers". Trotsky proceeds to mishit the ball 5 yards past the hole and the shaken Lenin misses the return putt giving hole and match to Brusiloff and partner.

Brusiloff finally thanks Mrs Smethurst profusely for a most charming evening as he wishes her 'goot-a-bye' and goes to shoot a few holes with his friend 'Cootaboot' who promises to lend him whatever equipment he wants including his favourite club 'niblicksky'. Adeline wonders if she could walk with them and Cuthbert is, of course, more than delighted to have her company.

The incident raises Adeline's esteem for Cuthbert and golf highly and the two get married. Adeline starts revering golf and even wants to name their son Abe Mitchell Ribbed-Faced Mashie Banks and it is only Cuthbert's earnest pleading which prevents her from doing so.

P.S. Another laugh from the tale: Before his golf chat with Brusiloff, Cuthbert would have avoided him like the plague. So when Adeline runs into Cuthbert after Brusiloff has accepted to come to her aunt's party, she enthusiastically says, "Such good news about Vladimir Brusiloff." Cuthbert's immediate reaction, "Dead?", 'with a touch of hope'.