THE OBSERVER-(M-37)

 😎THE OBSERVER-(M-37)😎

Sun 07 Feb 2021

EVERY DAY IS NOT SUNDAY

      So i learnt early in life. Sunday has always held prominence as a special day from the time i can remember. After six days of toil comes Sunday,sabbath, the day of rest as per the Bible.If i recall correctly, this learning came from K.G. in a convent school. It was the day on which my bum-chum, Kanwaljeet , could be spotted relaxing on an arm-chair in the sun, his well-oiled shining hair spread open behind him, taking on a golden hue with the early-morning sun-rays . His whole body gleamed with the mustard-oil massage he got from his mother and his lips were a juicy red with the manjan he used on that special day in lieu of the regulation  toothpaste. How i envied him as he sat soaking in the warmth of the sun, patiently waiting for the mutton curry his mother had put on the stove to be ready while its mouth- watering aroma filled the air. Oblivious to anything else. No amount of coaxing could convince him to leave that chair and come for playing.Yes, Sunday was a very special day set aside exclusively for relaxation and maintenance of body and mind, period. Taking a cue from this friend of mine and other such examples i came across, i always made it a point to reserve Sunday for myself to spend it the way i wanted. I set claim to the day as one reserved for myself, to do just whatever i wanted to with no interference.Not only that, similar rights were granted to others too.

           The first major point of conflict in this way of life came in OTA. Sunday morning compulsory  after-breakfast queing up for a haircut was somewhat  tolerable. But spending the better part of the rest of the day doing " weapons cleaning " was not. How i hated to hear those orders ! At that point of life, i had conveniently presumed that my weekends which started on Saturday afternoon and went on to dawn on Monday were my own.  To be disturbed only in case of actual war or war-like situations. How i resented any talk of attending lectures/presentations on Sat afternoon which used to be announced with rather sadistic pleasure by whoever had that privelege ! Little did i know that this was going to be the rule rather than exception in my chosen career. I"ll just narrate how i was rudely shaken up on one such  Sunday. When the time is ripe for such an event, the whole Universe seems to get its act together and strike.

          Posted in Delhi in an independent company as 2 IC, i was informed by my OC that there had been a vehicular accident near Dhaula Kuan. He was the Presiding Officer for the Standing C of I but he asked me to take charge as he was occupied. Casting aside all my fond plans for the day, i rushed to the accident site as fast as i could. By the time i reached, all i could see was some CMP guys who showed me the chalk and skid marks of where a 3×ton had collided with an auto resulting in the death of the auto driver. Everything had been cleared off by that time as it was on the busy VIP road leading to the airport. I gathered what sketches and other evidence  were available, hunted out the other members of the board and sent messages to all concerned.

As usual, there was all kinds of confusion regarding who exactly were the members and soon it became obvious to me that they would only make their presence felt when it was time for the signatures. The driver of the 3× ton, a Madras Sapper and the co-driver, a Sub Maj of the School of Arty band were the only two witnesses i could get hold of. The son of the auto-driver, who had been the only passenger at the time of tha accident, kept making excuses and never put in an appearance. From the statements of the driver and co-driver, it came out that the 3×ton was peacefully conveying the School of Arty Band back to Delhi Cantt from Rashtrapati Bhawan. This auto on the extreme left of the road suddenly swerved right ( as autos do so often in Delhi ) and in the process came right in the way of the three x ton.It's driver applied the brakes and the three x ton came to a halt, but not before the left mud-guard hit the auto. The auto turned turtle. In this process, the auto driver fell in such a way that his neck was broken and he died. His son, the only passenger, was uninjured. The rest of the story was that the band had gone to play the Hungarian national anthem in honour of a distinguished guest at the Rashtrapati Bhawan.

          Now you see why i started this episode with this whole thing about Sunday being a day of rest !

The band Sub Maj had just a month or two to go before his retirement. Just imagine his plight, being detailed on such an assignment on a Sunday morning. And what else was the poor chap supposed to do but sit in the co-driver's seat as they made their way back ? The story of the driver ( just to remind you, a sapper at that ) went along similar lines.When the auto-driver's son failed to turn up in spite of repeated calls and on repeated reminders for submitting the completion report, i wound the C of I up in his absence and submitted the report. It later turned out that he was actually staying in the servant quarters of a bigh-up and was being advised to stay away from the proceedings in order to get compensation.In the findings and conclusion, i mentioned that the auto driver was to blame.

   Not many days later; my OC called me over to his office and handed over a Show-Cause Notice regarding the Inquiry to me. He added that it meant nothing much and i could take the Warning threatened in it and tear it up without consequences. When i protested that it was all so unfair, he said that if i was really serious about it , i could consult a retired senior officer of his unit,at that time a practicing lawyer in the Supreme Court. I fixed up an appointment and went to meet him along with the relevant papers and my friend, philosopher and guide, Prem. As usual, he had this knack of suddenly appearing at crucial junctures. He had just been posted to NSG and came to look me up on a Sunday at Vikaspuri, where i was staying. After serious deliberations, we came to the cinclusion that such a letter was not to be taken lying down and drove down to meet Col K ( retd) in his residence at Paschim  Vihar. Col K  turned out to be a very genial old soul. Over a cup of tea and biscuits, he listened to the two Captain saabs explaining their anguish. He replied that in any C of I involving a veh accident like that, the safest thing to do was

1) to blame the driver for rash and negligent driving 

2) to blame the co-driver for not exercising proper command and control

If that was done, no one could question anything. Having said that, he asked me why i had not done that and rather tried to save the driver and co-driver. Now i began to see the real meaning of that warning letter. I replied that first of all i saw both the guys as our own and moreover the available facts also indicated the findings. Col K then went through the file and exclaimed that i was not wrong after all . He still maintained that it was better to let the storm blow away and just tear up and forget any further letter on the issue. But on hearing my protestations, he said he would draft an appropriate reply. What an eye-opener that reply was - very, very politely but firmly it drove the point home. Once i signed and sent it, after a very long gap, i was warned to be more careful in future . I wanted to pursue the matter further but was told not to push my luck too far.Wise counsel indeed.

         Lesson learnt is to let Sundays be Sundays for everyone, be they Arty Bandsmen or Sapper drivers or anyone else for that matter. Do not mess around with anyone's free time and don't allow anyone to mess around with yours. Hope this write-up has not messed up ur Sunday. Enjoy !