Pitajee- My Father : Discipline, Sports and Refinements

As I grow old, I miss Pitajee my father, more and more

Let's take a walk down my memory lane starting with the earliest, with the man, who possibly had the max impact on my life.

Born on Ist December, 1910 into a well -to- do Civil Services and Zamindar family of central UP comprising three brothers and two sisters. He was named Ch. Pratap Bahadur, but affectionately called 'Rajjan' at home.There was a difference of more than 10 years between him and my Tau( his older brother), but less than 2 years between him and Chacha ( his younger brother). His relationship with Tau was marked more by reverence and respect, and with Chacha with affection and friendship.The three Chowdhry brothers lost their sisters, who were both, according to Bhabbi my grandmother rare beauties ( no photos of them in the family album though), failrly early, soon after their marriages, in a dreadful Plague epidemic.

Pitajee often recalled how he and "Kunwar" ( Chacha) were taught by a Maulvi Sahib who stayed with the family ( with seperate arrangements for his messing ofcourse) during their childhood. The Maulvi apart from teaching them calligraphy and Persian language, also related tales of wise and brave men.Maulvi Sahib was a great man and their good friend, philosopher and guide. Incidentally, Pitajee learnt to read and write the Devnagri script only after entering service. Before that it was only Urdu and English, and Babba could not write or read Hindi till he died at the age of 90!!

Pitajee was a born sportsman - excelling in Horse Riding, Shooting, Hockey and Boxing. One heard tales of his acute rivalry over riding with Chacha when they were both being brought up and taught the family sport by Babba ( grandfather who finds mention in my earlier blog), himself a keen rider whose prowess and stamina on the horse back, was phenomenal.Pitajee told us that as a 'Shaandaar' Tehsildar,( head of a segment of the revenue district in British india), Babba would set out on his inspections- riding miles and miles, changing horses from post to post ( since the animals tired out but not the rider). These 'Muffussil Dauras'( rural) inspections must have been great fun- with tents being pitched near a river or canal, complete with the kitchen, cooks, bearers, cows for fresh milk, bonfires in the evenings, and possibly Shikars early mornings. Babba's young sons often accompanied him on such inspections when they were on vaction from their schools and colleges. I have an old picture of one such camp site which vividly displays such camps, which I can't lay my hands on, but shall try to upload with a future blog.

Bhabbi would often recalled how Rajjan and Kunwar( Chacha)who were the best of friends at most times, were at loggerheads over the their choice of horses to ride( quite often the same animal in their father's stables), and over pieces of meat with the biggest "Haddi" in the mutton curry cooked by the phenomenal family Chef, Ramdin Maharaj, while sharing the "Thali" at meal times.I too had the good fortune os savouring Ramdin Maharaj's mouth- watering Mutton Kormah, when we visted Faridpur our native "Kasba" not village( as Bhabbi emphatically described it).What never struck me as curious then, but does now, is how Ramdin Maharaj, a Brahmin made the non veg fare for the Chowdhry household, which he served for his entire life time!

Both Chacha and Pitajee considered themselves to be superior to the other in horse riding skills. Alas, I never got the chance to see them together on the horse back! Pitajee was also the star performer in the local hockey tournments in Jhansi, where he spent the better part of his younger days. Bhabbi would recall with glee how her Rajjan would be often brought home on his team mates shoulders, after having scored a crucial goal. Pitajee had the priviledge to Captain the local team in Jhansi in which KD Singh Babu the brother of the Indian Hockey Legend Dhyan Chand also played. In Pitajee's view, Babu was a greater player of the game than Dhyan Chand.

I took to riding like a fish to water while training in NPA in Mt Abu but nevr got the chance to play the game of hockey that seriously.

In moments of relaxation , Pitajee would fondly recall his happy Hockey days in Jhansi and the delicious " Doodh Jalebi"in "Kulhars" treats from the local Halwai shop as the instant energisers at half time, during the gruelling 1 hour games in the evenings. I think Pitajee studied in Jhansi till High School and then moved on to Allahabad, the Mecca of higher education for the affluent sections of UP society- first to the Kayastha Pathshala( also called KP College), and then to the Hindu Boarding House House of the Allahabad University, which was considered the best in a 'macho'sort of way, than the more famous Muir ( later called the Amara Natha Jha Hostel), where only 'sissies' studied and lived.Pitajee strongly felt that while Muir produced only book-worms, Hindu has produced some of the finest all rounders from the prestigeous Alld Univ. BTW,yours truly also got affiliated to the 'Sissies' Amranatha Jha Hostel for my MA degree, to which Pitajee never objected( I am a third generation product of the Alld. Univ).

A bit surprising that that none of Babba's sons took to Cricket in which he had excelled. He played against visiting teams from England ( precurser to the Test Matches). Pitajee told us that " Laalajee", as he called his father, had hit the highest Sixer on the Muir Central College Cricket grounds. The ball had reached the top storey of the Muir Tower which stands to this day as the central edifice of the Science Faculty of Allahabad University and also adorns the university emblem.Babba was also reputed to be an outstanding fielder.


More on Pitajee's sportsmanship. He is supposed to have K.Od a Negro Boxer in the Alld. University inter- unit Boxing Tournment. I still possess the Bronze medal he won for that.Continuing the family tradition, I won the Alld University Silver Medal at he same tournment while in my MA final in 1967. Earlier, I had invariably won my weight in Boxing tourments in which I participated in School. Pitajee always came to watch the finals. I remember his coming to my Corner of the Ring, after the first Round (in which I was trailing in keeping with my Coach's startegy to preserve my energies to go for the kill in the third and final Round). "Anil,go for it now - Don't wait for the third round", he whispered to me.I took Pitajee's advice and hammered away! My heart jumped with joy when the blue light went up after the judges verdict came in and the referee raised my hand to signal that " Blue" was the winner. Pitajee took my friend Ruby Kohli, whom I had vanquished and I for an Ice-cream treat after the tournment. I was then in Class VII.

Discipline was the next strongest trait of Pitajee. He was physically tough and strong . Not tall- about 5 ft 6/2 in.As kids, by brother and I particularly admired his calf muscles. Vigorous riding and hockey perhaps had a lot to do with it. He was adjudged the best Sergeant in an inter unit UTC competition in the Univ. So impressesd was the British Army officer who had come to judge their performance in parade and drill that he suggested 'Sandhust' to him as a career option. Babba was fine with it, but Bhabbi turned it down.

So Pitajee was content to carry on with the Law Degree from Alld. University.He didn't make it to the State Judicial Service exam ( Munsifi as it was then called). This he did to emulate his elder brother who was held in great amiration by the entire family. But Pitajee was not Tau, a very studious and serious minded person. Pitajee was all for sports and finer things in life like music, painting and gardening which must have left little time for books, I guess. But he had a sharp and logical mind and soon established a good legal practice in Moradabad (I think ),as a junior lawyer under a successful Advocate, Tau's friend.But Bhabbi who was a powerful influence in the lives of her dutiful sons, persuaded him to give up practice, because it was an 'unethical' profession- Lawyers she said had often to lie in courts! This decision Pitajee sometimes regretted later in his life when he found that some of his less gifted colleagues and friends had built up roaring practices. Pitajee married Sushila, my mother, the daughter of Dr Sidh Gopal Gurha, Civil Surgeon, Bareilly, when he was doing his LLB and was 21 years old. Maa was 16!

My memories of my father are surrounded by the fragrances of " Ittars", especially Mogra, his favourite which he loved to wear, "Baba 120" Zafrani Patti which he ate with the "Desi Desawali" Paans, always made at home( never from a Paan shop), well starched and ironed clothes, and shining shoes.His 'Gutka' Ramayan, which he read and the Diary, which he wrote every day were the other hallmarks of Pitajee.He was a stickler for time and punctuality- forever looking at his watch.Extremely gregarious, who loved the company of friends and neighbours. He had a passion for gardening( which I have inherited) and music, especially Indian classical.Post retirement, he never missed his morning walks with his friends, pre and post lunch short naps and dinner at sharp 9 PM alongwith the Enlish news over AIR on his transistor radio which he carried to the dining table.

Although he held important postions in the UP revenue administration, he never acquired any landed property, but chose to live in a rented bungalow in Alld. till the end of his life. In the Deptt which he finally headed ( Registration), known to be traditionally very corrupt, he was known for his impecable honesty, impartiality and accessibilty.

One day on his return from tour to Lucknow the state capital, he told us that he shall not be going to office the next day, and that he had sought voluntary retirement beacuse the CM wanted him to do something which his conscience did not allow. We were all shocked because he was just 57 years old and had another year of service left. But knowing how resolute he was in such matters, we did not argue with him. This should be seen in the backdrop of the current propensity of bureaucrats to cling to the chairs, especially after reaching the top of the ladder. But the likes of my father who were made out of a different alloy are raely to be found in the Indian bureacracy now!

I am adding five scanned photos with this blog from the family album- two of Maa and Pitajee after their wedding, and one which was taken after his graduation. The photo of an older Pitajee was taken when he took over as Inspector General of Registration UP. I am also adding a picture of our handsome and debonaire Chacha, Pitajee's younger brother and good friend. Chacha had joined the Royal Indian Airforce as a fighter pilot during World War II, but left as a young Flt. Lt., when he was medically grounded on account of a defect in his vision.

That's all for this blog.

Would love to see some comments on this one.

Love and good luck to all


Desi Maali

Janmashtmi

Today is Janmashtmi - the birth day of Lord Krishna one of the most popular incarnations of God Vishnu, particularly in the North, Bengal and Orissa. Krishna's following has grown world-wide, thanks to ISCON. Unlike other Gods in the Hindu pantheon, Krishna's folklore is marked by romance,youthful pranks, music and dancing. Krishna's discourse to Arjun on the Mahabharat battle field is immortalised in the "Shrimad Bhagwat Gita"- the most powerful treatise on Hindu Dharma and philosophy.

Here are titbits of my childhood memories of Janmashtami- the pains we took over decorating the "Jhankis" depicting scenes of Lord Krishna's birth, with lots of foliage and flowers. The effect of reflecting water pools was created by using mirrors. Then there were the "Katri" sweets- basically dry fruits set in sugar, as exotic and varied as "Kharbooza"( Melon) seeds and natural gum ( "Gond"), "Post"( poppy seeds). The "Chiraunji" and Gola( dry coconut)Katris were my favourite. Every one kept " Vrat" ( fast), which meant you could eat to your hearts content but without " Anna" ( cereal) and salt.As as many sweets, as much milk or its products, fruits, vegetables . Therefore there were " Kutoo" and "Singhara" atta puris with the traditional " Arvi" ," Kaddu " Subzis, all cooked in "Sendha Namak" to be enjoyed while observig the Janmashtmi fast. Compare it with the rigours of fasting prescribed by other religions.
Lord Krishana's birth was invariably a noisy affair at mid-night, with a lot of fanfare, blowing of Conch ( "Shankh") shells and sounding of bells. A curtain was drawn to hide the actual birth of Baby Krishna. He came out of a "Kheera"( cucumber), bathed and clothed before, being placed in the traditional " Jhoola" ( swing). Why a Kheera, our young minds would ask, but we were never allowed to go beyond that . And we didn't care anyway, because the treat of " Charnamrit" or " Panchamrit"( made of milk, curds, honey, Ghee, Chiraunjis and Tulsi leaves ) Prasad "served in earthen " Kulhars""Kasaar" sweet roasted Atta which we kids called " Phoophoo" because if you said "that" while eating it , the powder would be strewn all over people next to you, awaited us!

Interestingly, " Janmashtmi" is the only festival celebrated in a big way in the Police Lines all over UP. The reason for this is simple. It is perhaps the only festival which does not require massive police deplyment for " Bandobast" or law and order duties. Well, I do hope that it remains that way, now that political fundamentalism and religious terrorism is taking a heavy toll of our day to day peaceful lives!

I am carrying a picture of " Laddu Gopal' decked out in his refineries adorning the Puja at home with this blog for all of you to have his Darshan. Shailey and I have kept up the long family tradition of observing Janmashtmi, while many of our peers are tending to give it up." OK . You find it tiresome to go through with all the hassles of cooking " Phalhari" meals, then why not order an egg less Cake with Kuttoo Atta flour from" Angels in the Kitchen" in Defence Colony with Baby Krishna and Happy Birthday icing to top it, in your choice of flavour- Vanilla, Chocolate or Pineapple", I suggested to a friend, who mentioned that his wife was prepared to go through with the Janmashtami shopping and cooking part, but since the kids don't relish the stuff any longer, they had decided to let it pass!

Last year on " Janmashtmi day, we decided to go out to a pure vegetarian restaurant to have " Phalhari Thali" lunch, but were greatly disappointed that it was not being served!

I had promised more on " Bhaggo Mausi" in my last blog. So here it is.She was an extemely warm, intelligent, affectionate and charming aunt- my mother's 7th sibling among 8. She could laugh, smile and cry within a matter of an hour! Rather emotional and sentimental but became a very strict disciplinarian after her marrige to Dr Vikram Singh, a self made Mona ( Jat) Sikh.She started an all Women's college in Ghaziabad, with only 10 students, which now has thousands on its rolls. She was a Phd. in English Literature from Patna Univ.and applied for a Commonwealth Scholorship for further studies in the UK, in the mid fifties. Dr. Vikram Singh,a "Leftist" from an agricultural and industrial background in the Punjab had somehow strayed into Govt service and was serving as a Deputy Secreaty to the GOI in the Education Minstry.He was on the Board to interview the applicants. A lonely handsome man, he was on the look out for a well bread and read life mate.I am Carrying a picture of Vikram mausaji with this blog.

Now this is how the interview went :-

DR VS, " Why do you want this scholorship?'

Dr Bhagya Gurha " Well I want to see England, where all this literature I have been studying comes from".

Dr VS " Hmm, what would you have to say if I show you England and many more foreign lands, minus the the scholorship?"

Dr BS, " What do you mean?"

Mausaji, " I will explain, if you meet me over coffee after the interview".

" OK " said Mausi without batting an eyelid in those days of innocence. She also did not complain to the Women's Commission or an NGO of being sexually propositioned by a Public Servant!

They met, not once but a few times, after which he proposed to her.Like a good daughter from respectable family,she gave him the postal address of Nanaji, Dr. Sidh Gopal Gurha, Civil Surgeon ( Retd)," Sidh Sadan", Mcnair Road, Prem Nagar Bareilly.This was the huge almost 30 room mansion Nanaji had built for himself to live in, but soon moved in to the Annexe, when the then Civil Surgeon approached him to give the house to accommodate the Nurses of the District Hospital, who did not have a place to live in. Nanaji's grandchildren,and my cousins, Girdhar and Manohar managed to get the house vacated after 50 long years of legal battle. I am carrying a picture of the house as it stood when I took Shailey there in 1997.

Mausaji wrote to Dr Gurha giving his brief background and asking for his fourth daughter's hand in marriage. Nanaji replied saying that he did not mind, if his daughter wanted to marry him. But he could not perform the marriage from Bareilly given Mausaji's unorthodox background ( a Sikh marrying a second time). Bhaggo Mausi then approached her dear elder sister, "Shillaji" ( my Mom), who asked my father whether the marriage could be solemnized from our house in Meerut and Pitajee said " Yes".
So we recieved Mausaji and the small Baraat of Punjabis for a very simple wedding followed by a very tearful " Bidaai", after which we didn't know whether to feel happy or sad. I was about 1o years old then in 1955.But Bhaggo Mausi led a very happy married life giving birth to her two daughters, Cuckoo and Tottoo. They first lived in a DII flat in Pandara Road and later moved to DI/75 Satya Marg, Chanakyapuri from where he retired, before moving to their own huge house in Ghaziabad- post retirement.This is the house where Bhaggo Mausi lived looked after by a loyal maid and her family who lived in the out houses, reciting Keat's poetry and reding Shakespear, till she breathed her last at the age of 89.Mausaji had passed away some years back. We had gone and spent some time with her in this house a month ago when she took ill. Her face had lit up on seeing us and she had hugged me fondly, smiling with tears in her eyes.

Well, that I feel is enough for this blog. Do let me see a few comments on it.
Love and all the best

Dadaji is No More- Bhaggo Mausi Also Gone

Vijay, my wife's brother informed us on Monday, August 4 that he was taking Dadaji to the Mission hospital in Mysore to consult with the cardiologist taking care of him since his last heart attack in 2000. He was complaining of breathing difficulty for the past couple of days. Dadaji, my wife's father had been living with his son and family in a farm house on the outskirts of Mysore city after migrating there from Kanpur ( UP) the past few years. Despite two severe MIs in 1984 and one in 2000, he was leading a fairly active life, largely within the farm house. A comfortable,but lonely life- mainly because Ammaji, Shailey's mother passed away 15 years ago, and he had to relocate to a faraway place,due to extra-ordinary circumstances, beyond his control.

On Tuesday, Vijay called again to say that Dadaji had been admitted in the CCU and his condition was deteriorating rapidly. Shailey and I reached Mysore the same night after catching the evening flt to Bangalore and driving for 4 hrs. The senior cardiologist attending on him at the hospital saw only 50- 50 chances of his recovery. His age ( he had completed 86 years on June 23) was the factor holding them back from trying more aggressive procedures to revive his heart, which was functioning with only 25 % efficiency.

When we went in to see him, he was fully conscious, but very restless and apparently unhappy at being strapped up with the rice tube, ventillator and the drip etc. When Shailey called out to him after touching him, he looked at her, and looked away- expressing his disgust at what was happening to him! I don't think he saw me.After spending a few agonizing minutes with him the nurse asked us to leave ,and we did.

We came back home and had lunch. I kept thinking that Dadaji should perhaps go, but could not express it to the family. Shailey had been telling me that Dadaji was an exceptionally bad patient himself and hated any kind of illnesses in the family.He believed in good health and wellness.

It was 3 PM - Wednesday, August 6, 2008 when Vijay called from the hospital to say that Dadaji was no more!

We rushed back to the hospital to help Vijay take decisions on the last rites etc. The SIB officials came to the spot and helped. This is where the IB scores- always there in times of need in any part of the country! According to Vijay, Dadaji had asked him to take the "Arya Samaj" route,in preferece to the "Sanatan Dharma" the sect to which he belonged in the matter of his last rites. So it was Electric Crematorium - "Visarjan" of ashes at the " Sangam" at neighbouring Shrirangapatna, followed by a Shanti Havan ( Home) at home on the fourth day.

Part of the ashes were brought back by us the next day accompanied by Gaurav, Vijay's elder son for being carried to Kanpur for immersion in the Ganges.Gaurav had a very close emotional bonding with his grandfather.

Let's take a quick look at Dadaji's backround- Born into a family of lawyers and Zamindars in Banda, a small town in the arid Bundelkhand region of UP, bordering MP. His mother died when Dadaji was merely a Baby. He was brought up by his eldest Bhabhi and brother who had no issues of their own, and also later formally adopted him. His upbringing was marked by love and plenty, in both emotional and material terms. He went to Alld- Kayasth Pathshala the Mecca of all well- to- do Kayasth sons for higher education from where where he did his Intermediate, and moved to the Sir Ganga Nath Jha hostel of Alld. University for the Bachelors in Arts and Law Degrees. He often recalled with pride and pleasure the lavish lifestyle he led as a student in Alld. spending pots of money on good eating and clothes.

He returned to Banda to set up law practice under his foster father( eldest brother), who was a failrly successful lawyer in the District courts. It was then that a proposal was recieved for him to marry Kum Shailbala the only daughter of Dr. Sampurnanand hailing from Varanasi. Sampurnanadji was a well known figure as a freedom fighter and who was sucked into poltical activity and became an important Minister in the UP Govt. headed by Pt. Govind Vallabh Pant. Both families being educated and enlightened, he was allowed the privilege of seeing the girl's photograph. Dadaji went one step further and surruptitiously saw Ammaji stepping out of the Mahila College in Lucknow. His close buddy and fellow lawyer from Banda, Shri Jagdish Rajan,( later married to my eldest sister) had accompanied him on this important mission. The wedding took place at Lucknow and the Nigams returned with the bride to Banda.

When Ammaji's brother was sent to Banda to get the bride back to her " Maaika" soon after the wedding, which was customery, he took the family elders at home to task for having married his loving sister into the most backward and underdeveloped part of the country- sans electricity, sans water supply, sanitation or transport facilities .But Ammaji did not complain then or later in her life for having been married to Dadaji- possibly because the lack of civic amenities in Banda were more than made up by her husband's love and care! Ammaji was a very gifted and dignified lady with several virtues of head and heart. She was more composed, less demonstrative, and an extremely able home maker.She also kept Dadaji on track. Shailey has no doubt inherited some of her mother's qualities

After a few years of marriage, Shailbala gave birth to Shailja ( my wife)in her father's home in Lucknow. The Baby girl, brought much joy and cheer to the Nigam household. Ammaji would recall with mirth her dreary Banda days - the bumpy Tonga rides over Kutcha roads to attend social events like births and weddings in Purdah , ofcourse, and the rare evenings out to watch a movie in the only " Talkies' in town, where she was served mouth watering Lhassi & Samosas from the neighbouring " Boda Halwai" shop, when the screening of the film was interrupted with the generator running out of diesel, or the projector becoming overheated after showing heavy romantic movies starring Ashok Kumar and Nalini Jayawant for more than thirty minutes at a stretch, with Dadaji perhaps holding the hand of her bride in the darkness of the hall,and the lights would be suddenly switched on, without warnings!

Ammaji put her foot down when their daughter's " Deeksharambh( schooling) was to be launched. " We must move to a place where she gets decent schooling" she told Dadaji. He chose Kanpur, U.P's biggest city and industrial hub, located midway between his wif'e's home ( Lucknow) and his own Banda. They set up home in a house on rent in the posh Civil Lines area close to the courts where he set up law practice. He soon became a Govt Advocate on the criminal side and rose to become the District Govt Counse, a position he held for many years till his retirement. The Nigams were also blessed by a second child, a son they named Vijay , and continued to live happily in the " Doodh Wala Bangla" ( a strange name for a home, I thought) for over two decades -driving up and down in Dadaji's many ramshackled cars ( with frequent break-downs,)to visit Ammaji's home in Lucknow and Banda on weekends and holidays. These visits were great fun especially for the kids.

They were living in the same house,when Shailey and I got married in 1975. The house was full of birds and dogs- thanks to Vijay's love for them which he carries to this day.My visits to my Sasural were marked by lot of " Khatirdari" and good eating/sleeping, which Ammaji took special care of.

The happy days of the Nigam household were rocked badly for ten long years from 1984 to 1994, with serious health problems suddenly afflicting the family- first the 2 MIs in quick succession suffered by Dadaji in 1984, and then Ammaji's prolonged incurable illness from a hepatitis B viral infection she had contacted more than 15 years ago during post surgery blood transfusions. The family naturally came under severe emotional, physical and financial stress. Full marks to Ammaji and young Vijay for having battled both illnesses with fierce tenacity and grit. First in getting Dadaji back on his feet, after being bed ridden for over one year, and then ensuring the best possible quality of life to Ammaji during her 8 long years of illness. Shailey and I have the satisfaction of having helped in her treatment by the best doctors in the country at possibly the finest hospital in the country- the AIIMS.

After Ammaji's demise on January 30 ( Martyrs day) 1994, just a fortnight after her cherished desire of having a postage stamp released in memory of her father was fulfilled largely by our efforts, Dadaji , Vijay and family vacated the "Doodh Wala Bangla" and moved to their own farm house in Magarwara on Lucknow- Kanpur road about 12 Kms out of the city, across the river Ganges. Perhaps taking a cue from his love for nature,Dadji had bought a strech of of about 8 acres of agriculture land for his son. But the hassle of commute for Vijay's three school going children forced them to move back to the city in a rented house for about one year before they moved bag and baggage moved to Mysore, where Vijay took up a job.

My account of Dadaji's life would be incomplete without recalling some of his " Shaukeen" / quixotic ways.- Perhaps on being taunted about his various " Khachra" cars, and riding in the " Limos" of his Chief Minister ( and later Governor of Rajasthan) father-in-law, Dadaji ordered his nephew pursuing an engineering degree in the US ( financed by him) to bring back the longest car being sold there. So the white Ford Custom 500 was shipped out to him. And Dadaji proudly drove his family around on Kanpur, Banda and Lucknow roads for many many years, till Vijay explained to him why they could not afford the White Elephant any longer , and Dadaji grudgingly allwed Vijay to exchage it with a smaller car - a Fiat with a local Nawab of Unnao, who like Dadadi was smitten by big cars!

That more or less completes Dadaji's life story which its ups and downs like most. He was a good , honest and simple man, who was proudly independent and self -reliant till the end. My friends and family remember him as a jovial, spirited grand old man dressed mostly in Kurta - Pyjama or Shervani and Achkan on formal occasions, with his distinctive shock of shining silver hair.

Life treated him failrly well, except for two serious set backs- the loss of his life partner and friend ( Ammaji) at the young age of 61, and his own illness which took the zing out of his life, also at an early age. But he managed well till the end.Despite his frequent outbursts and refusal to see any other view point than his own, I immensely enjoyed his company and shall miss him. May God rest his soul in peace.

I am carrying two B/W pictures of Dadaji which Shailey fished out of the family albums which I hope you will like.He is holding Abhiram our elder son in one, and the other is with his Old Buddy and my late Jeejaji, Shri Jagdish Rajan

Bhaggo Mausi ( Dr. Bhagya Vikram) my mother's only surviving sibling who lived all by herself in Ghaziabad, with her two daughters living in Calcutta and Jallandhur passed away on August 12. She was nearing 90 and had been ailing for some time. She was also an unforgettably charming personality. A Phd. in English literature- her first love, and married a Mona Sikh ( Vikram Singh Mausaji), her third Love. I shall write of my memories of Bhaggo Mausi in my next blog, since this one has already become rather long. But I am carrying two photos of her younger days to give you an idea of her earthy charm!The picture of her next to the cactus was taken in 1956.

Love to all.

Pictorial Walk Down Memory Lane

The Past in Pictures-
Returning to my blog after almost two weeks. Ankur our younger son reminded me about it.

So here I am in a new format. Have been rummaging through a whole lot of old photos which Shailey has very meticulously preserved.The blotches on the 10 BW photos have become more prominent after scanning. But they bring back some very happy memories from my childhood and younger days which I have tried to recapitulate below:-

Top Photo
Goa 1976- Tanuja and her husband Somu Mukerje who was shooting a film there visited our homeYes that's Kajol in Shailey's lap.Friends and neighbours Narendra and Sudha, and Rita another good friend, are also seen in the picture with us.Shailey tells me little Kajol had wet our sofa in the Drawing room when Tanuja had spent the day at our home .





Second Row Left -That's Shailey as a Baby. She later came in to my life as my wife, and turned it upside down- from a Bindaas Happy go lucky ' most eligible bachelor in town' -to a home loving bird ,looking forward to returning to the nest after a hard days' work. But the change didn't happen overnight. As a matter of fact, I didn't realize when it did. And she let me be a Bindaas for quite a few years- giving me lots of space, smiling and watching from a distance.



I met Shailey for the first time in 1969 when she alongwith her parents visited our home in Alld ; then again in early 1970 while I was on home leave to attend Anand Bhai's Engagement. Her Dad was a good friend of my eldest brother- in- law.They drove in on their way back from Varanasi to Kanpur in the longest car I had ever seen- a Custom Ford 500! I remember her as a rather serious skinny young girl. A proposal quickly surfaced - " Nice girl- Nice known family" etc etc. But I was in no mood to loose my freedom and " Masti". So I said " Car now and the girl in easy instalments" . It was laughed off.

But they did come back 5 years later, to Goa where I was posted as SP for a " well planned holiday" . My parents were already with me and they arrived with my eldest sister and brother in law. I was cornered again. I said "I need more time." But my brother-in-law would have none of it. "We have given you enough time, Anil. And now you have to give us a firm Yes or No " he roared, which brought out a feeble "yes" from me. And then they acted fast - Dinner at home in the evening, after which I was allowed to take her out for a drive- to Donna Paula- where else. And the ring ceremony followed the next evening. The die was cast!









Right - In Goa in 1974 with a young photographer ( I think his name was Paul) with whom I made friends on a train journey from Bombay to Goa. I was still a bachelor.







Third Row- Pitajee with Bro. C P Burke Principal of our school St Marry's Academy. Shri Shanti Prasad IP, a close friend of Pitajee who was DIG Meerut Range is also seen in the background. Shri Prasad was a towering personality who later headed the UP Police. He largely inspired me to opt for the police as my career.







Fourth Row - with Anand Bhai and Roy Fanthome, our close friend and neighbour in Meerut. The year could be 1958 or 9.







Fourth Row Right-With Maa, Anand Bhai and younger sister Anurag ( Baby) much later in Meerut. Perhaps in 1964 when I was studying in College in Delhi and Anand Bhai was training to become a Commercial Pilot with Chacha in Alld.







Fifth Row -At home in Meerut with Babba, Bhabbi( Grandparents) , Anand Bhai and Baby- In the late fifties, I think.







Sixth from Top- Our friends in School, sons of the Sub Area Commander ( Brig R S Sodhi) had brought Army horses to our house in Meerut Cantt, when Aand Bhai and I first tried our hand at riding, a traditional family sport, which I cherish till today. Earnest Fanthome, Roy's elder brother is safely holding the stallion by his reins, while I am proudly on its back.







Seventh from Top- Taken around Dussehra time in the fifties in Meerut when Anand Bhai and I were allowed to fire from the family weapons. I am proudly holding the .32 bore Revolver ready to shoot! Does it matter that I am barefeet? The weapon was presented to my Grandfather by "HE The Commander - In- Chief of the British Forces in India for Services rendered during the Great War and after" -1919, when he was Tehsildar of Hathras, I think in Aligarh district ( UP). Did that make us "Todi Bachhas" ? I don't think so.It's a family heirloom which I have inherited from my father. I am truly proud of it. Manufactured by Johnson & Johnson Cycle Factory in Michigan USA. It has a gold plate on its butt commemorating its presentation to my Grandfather. I tried to find out about the factory which produced the weapon during my posting in the US much later and was told that it had closed down many years ago!

Babba my grandfather was known as a " Shandaar Tehsildar" an honest, strict and no nonsese type of administror. He is said to have performed his tours riding miles and miles on horseback when the horses were changed every 10 / 12 miles, but he would continue to gallop or canter (the least tiring for the rider), till he reached his destination, to camp in tents put up in forest areas close to the village, for a bit of " Shikar ", after the inspection was over. In a future blog I shall try to carry a picture of one such camp where my father and his brothers were also taken on the " Daura".


Finally the last picture - It wastaken in a studio in the school blazer in 1960, when I was filling out my forms for the NDA and "Dufferin" exams. Don't miss the crew cut- coz Elvis had got one in the Movie " G I Blues" and coz I was pretty fed up of my unruly hair which simply didn't stop falling on my forehead, despite liberal treatments with Brylcream, Vaseline Pomade etc.



The Present- In Delhi -




Delhi continues to be hot and sultry with little rain in the past week. But the heat and dust has hopefully settled, also after all the the political drama witnessed on July 22.In an obvious salute to the PM , Radio Mirchi 98.3 FM kept playing the number " Singh is King" from the yet to be released Akshay Kumar starrer movie by the same, after the UPA Govt won the vote of Confidence in the Lok Sabha. Young Omar Abdullah, son of Farukh Abdullah, the J & K NC leader's straight from his heart speech in Parliament clearly scored over all others.


Last Sunday, we went for a Mango Party in an orchard owned by Khan Sahib, owner of Rajdhani Nursery in Jorbagh. His orchard which also has a farm house and serves as the back up nursery and Green House for the Rajdhani Nursery in located on Garh Mukteshwar -Meerut road ;a good 2 1/2 hrs drive from Delhi. We had lots of fun feasting on the delicious varieties of mangos- Langdas, Dussehris, Chausas and the lesser known Ratauls and Gulab Jamuns grown only in western UP but very weet and tasty. The mangos were served in the tradional style, soaked in buckets filled with water and ice, and eaten jointly under the shades of trees also laden with mangos. There was a large tank fed by a tube well for the kids to frolic in. This was followed by a sumptuous meal of Pooris , Kachaudis , variety of Subzis and Biryani, Korma all made by gourmet chefs at the Farm House.There were no less than 200 guests who enjoyed Khan Sahib's hospitality!
I attended such a party which used to be an annual affair during our childhood after many, many years. And Khan Sahib's Khatirdari was impecable. He looked after every guest personally, extending the usual courtesies ( disappearing fast) only a Muslim from UP can- in proper Lakhnavi and Rampuri Andaaz, assisted by his sons and other family members. Small baskets of mangos were also placed in the cars of the VIP guests as they left the farm house. " Will your sons be able to continue with this tradition of hosting the annual mango party after you are gone," I asked Khan Sahib before leaving."I am sure" was his prompt answer. But I am not so sure...

That's all for now. All the best till I blog again.

Love from your "Desi Maali".

Uncertainties Over Delhi

Hi Folks

It has been uncertainties all the way this week. Future of the Nuclear Deal; future of the UPA Govt at the Centre; the way inflation is heading; the speed at which the oil prices are heading noth and the stock market south; progress of the Monsoons; and what's in store for India in the short term and long, for those who love it.

My answers: The deal is not bigger than India.The UPA should hold because even a poltical novice like me knows that if the polls are held any time soon, the BJP will have a huge advantage mainly due to price rise. The future of India is good because the country has remained unshaken on the democratic path, despite several ups and downs.Because Indians are basically peace loving and God Fearing peple. But we have to move away from superstitions, religious intolerance,"Mobraj" castism, and bring down the birth rate by aiming for 100 % literacy, particularly of our female population.Each one of us has to do one's bit to improve matters, instead of looking to and blaming the Govt agencies.India shall bounce back. It is a matter of time.Does it sound a la Kalaam?

"Umas"( humidity) punctuated by brief cool spells of rain best descibes the weather conditions over Dilli the past week.My guess is that the monsoons are good and the early Kharif crop should bring relief by Dussehra - Diwali.

An article written by my sister in a Home and Parents Magazine of Mumbai on N. Lal ICS brings back memories of perhaps the most unforgettable character out of my childhood.Actual name Nathi Lal- profession- domestic help in a large upper middle class ex- Zamindar family of "Munshis"( Civil Servants of UP).The ICS stands for "Indian Children Service" given to him by my cousin also a Civil servant ( IRS). Very apt I think- looking at the devotion, love and care with which he brought up our large family of six siblings in Meerut.

His family background remains an enigma to this day. He made us believe that his father was a well- to- do " Kazanchi" ( probably Accountant but literal meaning Treasurer) of the Maharajah of Bikaner. He was spoilt due to his father's immense wealth: fell in love with " Shyama" a ravishingly beautiful nautch-girl who he wanted to marry. His father naturally disapproved. So Nathi Lal,smitten by Shyama's beauty, fled from home and eloped with her.The honey- moon was a romantic journey through the most idyllic spots, paid for by money and jewels he stole from his father. He related unbelievable tales of how he made tea for his beloved Shyama when she expressed the desire for a cuppa by lighting a fire of currency notes.No surprise that the money did not last long.

This romantic love story had a sad ending. Shyama fell terminally ill, and died in his arms.After that he went berserk-wandered in the wilderness joining a band of " Aghori", Sadhus ( a Tantrik cult which leads the most defiled life- living at the Burning Ghats, eating jungle produce, drinking urine and eating excreta), in their quest for inner peace and tranquility.Nathi Lal's father discovered his lost son in this state of utter disillusionment and despair.Why he turned to my "Tau" ( father's elder brother), who was Sessions Judge of the District, is not quite understood by me. But Tau who already had enough help at his home, turned to his younger brother, my father who was also posted in the same district of western UP. Nathi Lal was I believe employed as a tennis ball picker in the Officers Club patronised by both Pitajee and Tau.One day, he somehow ventured from the Club to my father's home. There he got hooked on the happy home atmospherics. That's the best I can do to explain N Lal's entry into the Chowdhry household, relying, on my adolescent ears.

Nathi Lal had extraordinary qualities of head & and heart He was a friend,philosopher and guide to all seven of us, in varying degrees. I may be wrong but I feel that I got the maximum out of his abundant love and care. He kept us all smiling and in good cheer while feeding us, reaching us to our schools and bringing us our lunch in school buying sweets and fruits, often out of his own pocket,on the way on the bicycle or cycle-Rikshaw that he rode all day long.

He was the first to wake up and last to go to bed. If you add our old grandparents who also lived with us, to the seven children, the range of the chores he ran for all of us was truly amazing.He would often take cudgels on our behalf with not only our parents but also with our teachers in school. Much to my embarrassment, he would occasionally burst into my class room with " Excuse me Madam but I must feed my Baba since I could not reach in time to catch the Lunch Break". He would mock at my rebukes at indulging in such antics.He was proud of his fluency with the English lanuage.

My brother and I had the happiest of times accomanying N Lal to the neighbourhood "Ram Leelas" afer dinner, when we would be seated in the front row of VIPs, and he would buy us "Teer Kamaans" and sweets at the stalls. Our young chests would fill with pride when the drama on stage was interrupted to annouce cash rewards mostly to the artist playing " Hanumanji". I also loved accompany him to the 'Halwai" shops for the "Kulhar" milk and Barfi treats .

He did go home to Mathura once in year to catch up with his family and returned frequently before time with lots of goodies like the special " Pedas, " Khurchan" and " Kulia " sweets ( "Rabri" set in tiny earthen "Kulhars") which all loved. Much later during one of my visits to Mathura, I looked for N Lal's " Kulias' all over, but couldn't find them. No one knew what local variety of sweet I was talking about!

N Lal ICS served us for over three decades till after I joined service. He fell ill and was forced to join his family in his last days. I used to receive his Post Cards full of love and grief at having been forced to leave our home. Also pleading to send him money to tide over the difficult financial position of his children to which I always responded as best as I could. Then one day, I heard from my parents that he was no more. I think it was 1973.

Could trace two pictures of Nathi Lal which I scanned and uploaded. I think in the picture of the younger N Lal, he has my eldest sister in his caring and solid lap. Hope you are able to see the nowblurred B & W pictures of my vivid childhood memories.There two other picture of Lagestromia India shrub in full bloom on the Satya Marg roundabout and a Gajania bloom in glorious yellow at home.


That's all for this week.

Lots of love and luck from your Desi Maali in Delhi













a

Earliest Monsoon Over Delhi

Hi All,

Couldn't do my Blog last week because the Internet at home was down last week end.

But here I am again this week with my lead news item from Dilli, which all of you must have heard or read several times over - the Monsoons have broken over Delhi, earliest in living memory, after the wettest month of May. What is this, if not climate change, I ask for want of a better reaction!

While the respite from the oppressing Delhi summer heat is welcome, I am not sure that it's all for the better. In the absence of the " Loo"( Hindi not English),mosquito fatality did not take place. The persisting humidity and stagnant water puddles all over the city are ideal setting for them to become amorous and intimate. One may, therefore, expect outbreak of the dreaded "Dengue" fever. So those of us who didn't escape to the hills in May and June, be prepared to flee from Dilli, if the Dengue outbreak takes place in autumn.

The " Andhees and " Toofans" preceding the Monsoons had already taken a heavy toll of the Mango ( my favourite fruit on earth) crop in the north. And now the Eastern and north Eastern parts of the country are being affected by floods!

The price of Crude oil which has not stopped galloping for a year now ( what stamina of the oily skinned Stallion)), and the world wide shortage of food grains have added to our woes.Spiralling inflation and prices of essential commodities is affecting the masses,as also the poll prospects of the ruling UPA alliance.Therefore, we cannot go ahead with the Indo- US nuclear deal which all believe will help us tide over our huge energy deficit to some extent.

The small increase in petroleum products retail prices, which was unavoidable, has added fuel to the raging inflationery fire. No one seems to know how to control it!

The US economy's recession, set off by the sub prime factor has also affected our share markets and the financial sector. Every one says- these are cyclic phenomena.. But none is willing to venture to forecast, when things will improve.

The Congress party and its Allies want the "Deal", but do not want early polls. Their Left parters do not want the deal so as not to be seen siding with the US( with an eye on the Muslim votes)- but also do not want to face the electorate. So we are stuck yet again at a crucial stage of our developing into an economic world entity, largely because no party leadership has the kind of credibility to carry the masses with them to tell them "We know what's good for you. So vote for us if you trust us."

Looks like the BJP may have to wait another year, before they regain power at the Centre, which they appear poised to, with their mouths watering ...

But let us hope for better times for all of us.

The copious rains have washed Delhi bright green. The " Sawani" ( Sawan or Shravan is the month heralding the Monsoons as per the Hindu calender) - Crepe Martyl ( popular English name and Lagestoemia Indica ( Botanical) shrubs are in full bloom all over the city. The ones on the Moti Lal Nehru Place round about are the prettiest. The poor Kochias which were also at their peak green glory are in a mess- state of shock over the monsoons early arrival! I am carrying illustrative photos of the Sawanis, the Kochias,the inscrutable ( "Besharam") Bougainvalleas and a few other flowers flowering in my home garden, for the non "Maalis" to understand what I am talking about. There is also a chance picture of my own with the Prime Minister and friend Jyoti at a recent Reception in the capital.

Speculation over the fate of the Indo- US Nuclear Deal has overtaken the spot light of the local media over the Arushi( NOIDA) murder case, which largely remains unsolved, despite our premier Central Investigating Agency taking over. But Vijay Shankar and his excellent team of officers will, I am sure, crack the case soon to maintain the fairly high standards of investigation which the CBI has built over years.

Well folks so much for this week. Trying to keep my blogs short and readable at one go, as advised by a friend.

Take care and have fun

June 8 2008 Delhi

Couldn't write my Blog last week-end, because we travelled to Bangalore and Mysore.Both were nice and cool,with plenty of rains.
Our arrival in Bangalore coincided with the Swearing ofthe first BJP Govt South of the Vindhyas.Our Flt landed at the new airport on Bangalore - Hyderabad road, a good hour's drive from the city. Tried to enter the city to meet a friend for dinner, but gave up half -way, beacuse of traffic jams caused by jubilant BJP supporters flocking the city from the rural areas.Stayed at the Jalahalli BEL Guest House set out in a beautifully designed garden. Went out to eat at Neelam resturant close to Ramaiah( Engineering & Medical) College, especialising in Andhra cuisine . It was packed with students and tourists, guzzling beer and tucking in heaps of hot Andhra curries poured over steamed rice on a late Friday evening.

The drive from Bangalore to Mysore early next morning was pleasant with our usual halt for " Tiffin" at Kamath restaurant midway setb in a pleasing rural ambience. It was packed with almost 200 customers being served by 'Dhoti Kurta'- clad waiters with various south Indian delicacies.
It was almost noon by the time we reached the Farmhouse on Mysore -Hunsur ( Mangalore) road on the outskirts of Mysore,where my father in law lives with his son and family. The Essar petrol station started by my brother in law about one year ago was locked up . It could not cope with the highly subsidised rates at which the Govt owned gas stations sell petrol and diesel. The garden and my brother- in- law's "aviary" and dog kennels were however, doing well,as also the rest of the family trying to lead their Kanpur life in the deep south.

On Sunday, I went around some nearby Nurseries, ate farm fresh fruits and rested at my "Sasural". Early Monday morning,set out for Bangalore and came back to Delhi late evening.

Delhi weather continues to be very unusual, with a persiestent cloud cover and intermittent rain.

Yesterday(Saturday) Shailey and I spent almost three hours in Jan- Path and CP, shopping and looking around. Picked up some music CDs. The Cottage Industries Emporium continues to be our favourite place. Some one selecting the merchandise there, still does a good job of a government enterprise, in the most un- govt activity- selling handicrafts. It is one of the oldest relics of Delhi's attempts to show case the arts and crafts of India, soon after Independence. I feel proud that our family contibuted to this effort in no small measure with Ratna Ji and her husband Mr Fabri designing the interiors of the Cottage Industries Emporium for several years since its inception in the early Fifties.Old Delhiites will remember that the sophisticated and artistically inclined met at the CIE in the fifties thu seventies.


Today ( Sunday), we saw "Sarkar Raj",the new Ram Gopal Verma release starring the entire Bachchan family, minus Jaya, at the City Walk PVR in Saket, after a south Indian meal at "Naivaidyam" in Hauz Khas Village. The outing was with the Sawhney's our Samdhis,thanks to the energy & initiative of Shubhi, their young daughter.
" Sarkar Raj" very well acted ,but the story line was weak . So it tended to drag.

Sorry no photos this time,although the city panorama over Delhi looks very green and fresh. But I have the Langda mangoes, Muzzaffar Pur Leechis and Bombay Alphonsoes to look forward to the coming week.

A very happy week ahead.

Love

A Freakish Wet Week in Delhi

Mother Nature never ceases to surprise ignorant mortals like me. The incessant rains that Delhi and its neighbourhood has been experiencing the past six days ( mid May) is like during the peak of the Monsoons which get here only by about mid July!Water logging in many areas of the city and the suburbs notwithstanding, the steep fall in temperatures was welcomed by all.

The double murder of 15 years old Arushi and a Nepali domestic in the home of the Talwars both successful and well known Dentists in a posh NOIDA colony on May 15 sent shock waves though out the capital. The TV channels and the print media were on the rampage again! A wave of sympathy for the 15 year old who was reported to be a brilliant 9th Grade student in DPS NOIDA swept over NCR.

The NOIDA police investigations into the sensational crime were slippery, bumbling and shoddy- jumping from one theory to another.The gory murders were carried out by slitting of their throats with a sharp, possibly surgical instrument after knocking them out with a blunt object.

The shocking climax was reached yesterday with the police announcing that the culprit was the girl's own father Dr Rajesh Talwar. But the manner in which the story was revealed at the press conference by IG Meerut Range was most unprofessional, to say the least.


Now the girl's mother and a colleague lady doctor with whom Dr Tarwar was, according to the police, having an affair have further complicated the case by going to the TV News Channels, vehemently denying Dr Talwar's involvement, and claiming that theirs was a perfectly normal happy family. I saw their interviews and thought that they were a bit contrived. The mother particularly was too composed! Let's see what twist the case takes next...

But we all feel sorry for the young and innocent Arushi. It is evident hat she was not getting enough parental attention, with both being focussed on their careers.The change in value systems where material gains have taken the place of close family bonds is worth pondering over.

I am not at all surprised at NOIDA ( UP) police's inept handling of the case.To expect sophisticated metropolitan policing from a Mofussil ( rural) police force deployed in NOIDA, devoid of basic forensic tools, training , orientation etc, is not being realistic. If the UP CM would like NOIDA to remain healthy a holy cow, she should act now to introduce a Commissioner of police system and equip it better to cope with the task of providing security to the failrly prosperous people who live there.

Let's leave the murky world of crime and take a look at nature again. The trees dotting new Delhi have all been washed bright green by the ample rains in the past few days. The grass in the lawns is also lush green and the Amaltash , Gul Mohar blossoms have fallen in abundance to provide yellow and orange carpets in the roadside parks.The Lagestroemias and Champas have, however, withstood the storms and still adorn the trees. Will try to catch this on my camera to post pictures on this blog for your viewing pleasure.Having failed in this I am carrying two pictures one of Gulmohar in full bloom ( downloaded from the net) and the other of Hybrid Petunias in a window box at my home taken last month.

Let me to take you back to my memories of Meerut, where the large Chowdhry family lived in a cottage owned by an old Anglo- Indian Spinster- Miss Newton, who also lived in an adjoining cottage in a sprawling estate on the outskirts of the Cantonement.Miss Newton was indeed a very courageous lady.She lived alone with her pet dog, a Dachshund ( also rumoured to be a spinster called "Missia"), ferociously guarding the large estate inherited by her alone since her brothers had decided either to go back to England or to Pakistan, after Independence/ Partition. She would take her rounds of the bungalows and the fruit orchards, including the long row of servants quarters attached to the property during the days and also nights with a powerful torchlight in her hand, putting the fear of God among the occupants of the servants quarters by shouting at them with a sprinkling of the choicest abuses in " Hindustani" making their children run for cover, as soon as her foot-steps or rather manly voice was heard.She smoked like a chimney and drank unending cups of tea hot or cold.
But behind her tough exterior, Miss Newton had a heart of gold. Whenever any member of our family was sick and in bed,she would come around and sit by the bed side. Her gestures of good neighbourliness were reciprocated generously by 'Pitajee', by not only visiting her during her illnesses but also arranging for food and tea to be taken to her home by one of the servants."Babba" our grand father who lived with us along with "Bhabbi"( Grand mother)would continue to annoy Miss Newton no end by his persistent but innocent queries about her age.But she was quite fond of "Bhabbi", despite the differences of race , language and religion. I would put her age around late seventies at that time

Given the bonhomie between the happy Chowdhry family and the " lonely' old Anglo- Indian land-lady, it was no surprise that she willed her entire property to Pitajee. As a matter of fact, she became so fond of my father that she alo offered him to buy the cottage that we lived in (for which we paid a rent of Rs 45/= ), for Rs 20,000/=, which was well below the actual value of the property . But with a large family of seven school and college going children and his old parents to support on a single income and the dwindling harvests from our ancestral farms in Faridpur, and being an" honest and proud civil servant of high pedigree",Pitajee was not in a position to accept her generous offer. But he asked his younger brother( my Chacha about whom you will read a lot in my later blogs)to take it, and he did.

But all this came to an end in the early sixties when the Chowdhrys decided to move bag and baggage to Allahabad, after living at 22 A 1 Ordnance Row Meerut Cantt for over a decade. This happened when my father became the Head of the Govt Dept he had served for many years.Chacha promptly sold off the house soon after we moved out and Miss Newton was pressurised by the local Church to change her will bequeathing her property to a Non- Christian. They wanted her to donate it to the Church, which she refused to( she was never a very devout Christan anyway,) but in deference to the wishes of her community, she changed her will so that her estate be inherited by a very nice Christian young man who also lived in the neighbourhood. But he too was too good a man to manage Miss Newton's Estates affairs large parts of which were encroached upon( after we moved out) by a local Jat leader.He gave up his rights over the property even without a fight!

Have discovered a couple of black & white small pictures of Miss Newton among the old family photos, which we have preserved.But I don't know how to carry them on my blog. Any suggestions / ideas? Next week I will tell you about N. Lal ICS, another unforgettable character out of my childhood and growing up years memories!!

We decided to buy a car for Shailey my wife. Closely looked at and test drove a few small cars. Shailey was clear that she wanted a small car. Her last was Zen.When we took stock of our funds we found that we were short by about 1 Lakh rupees. Our children very sweetly chipped in without consulting us and took us by surprise when two BDs were delivered in Shailey's name in a couple of days. The choice narrowed down to Maruti "Swift" and Hyunday's "i 10". When I turned to Dilip my friend from college who is an expert, he said, "your choice is between Asha Parekh and Deepika Padukone". An "i 10" in 'Blushing Red' colour was thus our natural choice!!It looks nice and drives well.

I end this blog, as the weather again turns cool with sharp showers accompanying a thunder-storm preceded by dark clouds taking Delhiites by suprise in the morning today.

Wishing you all a very happy and enjoyable week ahead

Love

The Week Begins on A Sad Note

Series of bomb blasts in the Pink City have taken a toll of 70 innocent lives and another 150 are seriously injured. Eight blasts within 15 minutes in busy localities of old Jaipur City late May 13 evening.The TV news channels are carrying live statements of politicians; scenes of the blasts; and interviews of the affected people and their families. The usual political blame games have begun between the BJP ruled state and the Congress led Central governments.What is particularly annoying for people like me who know what intelligence and policing is all about is this talk of Central Intelligence Agency ( Congress) failure; state police( BJP) not doing its job etc etc.TV channels have turned into investigating agencies, providing various clues to the identity of the culprits and naming outfits responsible.

As a former cop and Sleuth, the following issues come to my mind-

(i) What is the motive of the groups who have caused these blasts and similar blasts elsewhere in the country in the past? What are they trying to achieve?

(ii) Can something be done to prevent them?

Before I attempt to answer these questions, let us look at the facts ( available from media channels)- There is no doubt that it was a carefully planned action in which more than one person was involved. Several teams must have been used by a Master Mind - those who imported and collected the explosives, detonators etc;the experts who assembled the IED; those who surreptitiously planted them at the vantage points- all very crowded places (probably at night) by dodging police and night watchmen vigils, so close to Police Stations; and finally, those who set the clocks ticking. The modus operandi of the 9 blasts strongly suggests that timer devices were used to trigger the blasts, to coincide with the maximum crowds gathered near the temples on a Tuesday evening Jaipur city is the pride of Indians for its traditional secular, peaceful and prosperous social milieu.It is the capital of Rajasthan, home to the Marwari community which like the Jewish, are master businessmen, and a fovourite with foreign tourists.

To revert to the two questions raised above. The motive was apparently to cause terror in the minds of the people of Jaipur and the rest of the country by striking at soft targets to achieve maximum loss of lives and to send out the message that India is not a safe destination.

Let's face facts-total prevention of such attacks by by policing is not possible,though intelligence driven operations that are able to penetrate the terrorist groups and better TECHINT inputs can produce some results. Such operations call for very professional planning and execution by highly skilled and motivated Intelligence operatives . It does not matter whether they are from Central or state agencies.In fact, the state intelligence set ups mostly known as Special Branches have a better chance of succeeding because of superior local knowledge and support of the Thana police. But where are the professional intelligence operatives? The situation on the ground is not conducive to effective counter terrorism intelligence. The best in the police forces want to remain in the executive police wings and the SBs energies are wasted, resources are inadequate and they are not given the requisite leagal and political freedom. Clearly, total lack of depth and foresight in the political and bureaucratic leaderships in the states.

Finally, unless every resident and shop keeper in crowded localities in our big cities ( towns appear safer at the moment)becomes an unpaid Intelligence Agent to report the slightest sign of suspicious or out of the ordinary activity to the local police OR intelligence officer, the terrorists shall continue to strike with impunity and get away. To think that either the police or Intelligence agencies will be able to stop such actions is to live in a fool's paradise.

Not very long ago,the 'Jehadis' tried to target market places in Tel Aviv capital of Israel which tops the list of most hated states by Islamic terrorists.But they soon gave up after being caught quickly by 'Shin Bet'.In Israel, which possibly faces the highest terrorist threat quotient in the world, every second taxi driver, shopkeeper and vendor acts as the eyes and ears of the security agencies. The Israeli police largely remains invisible, and yet it is the most effective! Why? In this context, a complete overhall of the intelligence machinery in India to meet the meance of terrorist violence ( not likely to go away) is called for.

The above tragedy ( man made) which struck India was preceded by another caused by nature in Sichuan province of China by a devastating earth-quake reading 7.8 on the Richter scale. Several thusand have lost their lives and thousands more remain untraced. Estimates of loss to property are not yet available.. But the Chinese know how to cope with natural calamities and I am sure shall overcome this tragedy.

It is the year of the Rat, according to the Chinese calender. I think I read somewhere that such years are marked by mass sufferings. Am I right?

The day after terrorists struck in Jaipur, Delhi and UP were hit by very strong dust storm with wind velocity exceeding 100 KMPH. A large number of trees got uprooted all over Delhi causing damage to cars and also to built up areas. Have you ever wondered why so many trees get uprooted in Delhi by thunder and dust storms? The civic authorities, who make cemented pavements around well established trees with the laudable motive of keeping the city green, of course, are to blame.
By cementing the areas around trees, they weaken the roots which are deprived of their natural intake of food and water, and not able to provide the anchorage to the huge trees with their full load trunks , branches and leaves against the strong winds.Again, lack of professional planning by the City Masters, comprising mostly generalist politicians and bureaucrats.


Nature and the human species are the two most fascinating objects of my quest with life.The first surprises me every day, and the second occasionally, when I have the time to ponder.Nature first- How have the hybrid petunias ( a winter annual) in my home garden survived the Delhi scorching summer heat and continue to bloom. I am carrying two photos of my petunias taken yesterday. How the very hot spells keep getting interrupted by dust and thunder storms which arrive quite unexpectedly in Delhi, is another natural phenomena I am not able to fully comprehend but marvel at, though weather men keep ascribing them to "local disturbances".The one last night also took Delhiites by surprise and "washed out" the Delhi Vs Mohali IPL game at the Feroz Shah Kotla, but brought the much needed relief from the sweltering heat to the city.

Before I close I must tell you about a small but wonderful gesture of a young NRI couple living abroad taking over the responsibility of educating Lakhu's( our domestic for over twenty years) two daughters( 1 and 3 years old )who live with his wife, parents, brother's family and eldest child (a son) in Village 'Piuan Tal' in 'Mau Nath Bhanjan' District in a remote, backward and poor corner of UP. They eke out their living from the fish they catch and by tilling a tiny piece land that they own, supplemented by Lakhu's monthly income, in no small measure. They have made an FD in Lakhu's name, the interest out of which will pay for the education of the two girls and the principal amount to be made use of when they are ready for marriage.Those who are aware of ground realities of the plight of daughters born into poor vallage families in India would realise the significance of this. God shall certainly bless them both and their own little daughter for this.

A little more about Lakhu (real name Lekh Raj), s/o Kalpu Mallah. He belongs to the Kewat( boat men)caste and is a total illiterate. Ran away from school and home after being thrashed by the village school teacher to Mumbai where he worked at juice stalls and Dhabas but kept going back to his parents and village. He was brought to us by a Thakur Inspector of police( who had worked under me) from his village when he was 16 years of age. He was clad in a " Lungi" and Tea- shirt." Sahib I know this boy's family and he shall be honest and faithful. But please do periodically thrash him, or else he is likely to go astray in the city of Delhi" was his sane advice!! Bsically, I had requested the Thakur Inspector for a domestic help to look after our two children who were then 10 and 7 years of age.

Since then he has been with us though thick and thin like a member of the family.Lakhu is a born sports man ( left arm pace bowlerwiith a natural swing, and tennis player), a fantastic cook, specialising in hot fish & mutton curries,a gardener, plus an electrician cum carpenter, all without being able to read or write ABC in Hindi or Enlish.Lakhu took to life in the US where he lived with us for 4 years, like fish to water.He was a hit with our mainly white( Jewish)neighbourhood in the upmarket Potomac suburb of Washington DC for his helpful and cheerful disposition. " Hi Raj How'er you doin?",they greeted him while walking past our house, while he was tending our garden with the various gardening gizmos he became very adept with. " Fine and you?" Lakhu would wave back at them!!No one at home was better aware of the displays and pricing of various merchandise in the stores like " Home Depots, Safe ways,Giants, Sears, Walmarts and K Marts".He was also very confident about the maze of express ways and city roads. Did he follow his horse sense, I often wondered?

More next week.Lots of good wishes and love till then

Cop Turned Spook turns Maali and Looks Back

Being encouraged to write interesting bits of my experience as a police man and an Intelligence Operative by my Jeejai( sister's husband),I am tempted to look back and share a few pleasant memories, personal triumphs and disappointments.This week's blog carries just the seeds, or is the curtain raiser for short stories to follow.

I grew up in a Cantonment town ( Meerut) and studied for the most part in a school largely meant for children of Army Officers ( St Mary's Academy), perhaps the only 'Coed' school run by the Patrician Irish Brothers( Catholic))Society in India. My penchant for the uniform was,therefore,antural. The final choice of my career( police) was also guided by this. My first choice was the Merchant Navy after training at the " SS Dufferin" anchored somewhere in the Indian Ocean. The form along with the brochure for 'Dufferin' arrived at our home by post, as soon as I reached the qualifying age ( 15 1/2) and school level(10th). This eagerness to get set on my career path so early in life was driven by the twin desire of getting rid of studies( which never interested me much), and the spirit of adventure on the high seas, across nations. I would gaze for hours at the pictures in the Prospectus which accompanied the application form, imagining myself in a Sailor's shining white uniform, on board a ship as it sailed out magestically from the port.But alas it was not to be...

Maa knew about my fixation for a career in the Merchant Navy and I asked her to broach the subject when 'Pitajee' returned from his usual " Dauras" ( he was out on tour for 15 days in a month).She later told me that my father was not in favour of my seeking a career as a sailor. I pleaded with him, but to no avail". "It miight seem very glamorous and adventures at your impressionable age, but I know that a sailor's life is tough. Months away from home and the routine of deck scrubbing and peeling onions is not for you, my son", he said with the finality to which each in the family had learnt to bow.I considered the option of running away from home! But soon gave it up, since being a minor, I needed my father's consent for trying to get on board " SS Dufferin". I cried and sulked ( saying no to dinner when it was served and staying awake till late)for a few days. But my fever for the " Dufferin was soon replaced by ther more rampant fever in my school- the "National Defence Academy (NDA)" . Half my class had applied for it, and so would I( giving the Indian Navy as my first choice of service).The NDA forms also arrived after remitting a princely sum of Rs 20/= which my Mom, ever so generous towards me, gave me. The same melodrama followed. " No" said ' Pitajee'. "Please", I said, and I cried and sulked again, but not as much as I did for the " Dufferin".That is how I developed this strong sense of destiny, which I carry to this day.

There shall be more of the past in my future blogs, but for now the present...

Delhi's heat wave has been interrupted by the " Aandhis" which blow every evening.The IPL cricket fever is still on. They are yet to find a solution to the traffic mess created by the " BRT" corridor. The Delhi Chief Secretary has partially blamed the lack of traffic sense of Delhi road users for it.He is right, of course,and everyone knows it. But this is not a politically correct language for a "Babu" to use when the city is an election mode! Such is the hypocracy of Delhiites. Are we a pampered lot?

The glory of the summer flowering trees of Delhi tends to get buried under the haze of the overpowerng heat and dust. But I have captured them on my Nikon Coolpix in the few pictures of " Amaltash"( yellow ) and " Lagestreomia Flos Reginae ( mauve)and Champa Plumeria Alba/ Frangipani ( white ) in bloom: all growing in and around Moti Bagh which I am carrying with this blog, for your pleasure.

One has been enjoying the summer Sherbets like 'Khas', 'Rooh Afsah', 'Panna' and 'Phalsa' as also 'Mathha'or 'Chhach' ( buttermilk) and 'Thandai'( all old beat- the- heat presciptions), and eagerly awaiting the arrival of the better varieties of Mangoes from various parts of UP and "Lichees" from Muzaffarpur in Bihar and Dehradun in Up .Although the 'Sindooris' with reddish tinged skins have arrived, Banarsi 'Langras' or 'Maldas' from Deegha, as they are called in Bihar,'Dussehris from Lucknow ( Malihabad), ' Chausas'( the last to arrive) and 'Ratauls' from western UP, my fovourites, are yet to be seen. 'Hapus' or 'Alfansos' from Maharashtra score over all other varieties in terms of their longer shelf life and, therefore, their exportability, I personally feel that they are over- rated. My south Indian friends forever tell me that the varieties grown in Tamilnadu and Andhra Pradesh can match and even surpass the flavours of the north Indian mangoes named above. One has, of course, tasted the 'Baiganpallis' and 'Imam Pasands' from Andhra and also the "Neelams" from Salem in Tamilnadu. Perhaps they are not grown in such abundance as to find their way up to the fruit markets in Delhi. A pity!

The summer vacations in almost all schools and colleges in Delhi have begun. Therefore, the usual spurt in recreational activities.The IPL occupies the top slot, followed by the numerous Malls( Dewlhi must be having the highest density of Malls in a Metropolitan city) restaurants, pubs and movie halls. Just hanging out with friends in posh markets like CP, GK, Khan seems to the favourite past time of youngsters in Delhi, like elsewehere in the world.I wish there were more public swimming pools in Delhi for young Delhiites to get both healthy exercise and cool leisure which can't be beaten by any other.

The rush to the hill resorts like Shimla, Mussouri, Manali and Nainital must be on. These were cool locations and ideal summer get- aways for Civil and Defence Service Officers and rich business families from the Capital in the era gone bye.But they are hardly the places one would like to visit now, if one is looking for peace and proximity with nature.I know that a number of lesser known hill resorts like, Ranikhet, Bindsar, Landsdowne,Chakrata, Valley of Flowers, Gualdham, Auli, all in Uttarakhand now offer good facilties for tourists. But my country men and women like to follow the beaten path, till it is battered out of shape!And what is a holiday without good eating, drinking and shopping. The ladies of Delhi would particularly hate to be deprived of their favourite TV serials, even while on a hill vacation.So Shimla and Mussourie Mall roads are like big Melas in the summer vacations, and to keep them neat and clean becomes a challenge for the local civic authorities.One can still enjoy them in in spring and fall though.

Well folks, I think I have said enough for this week.


My best wishes and love to all