Lieutenant Colonel Shome
Lucknow, 1999: "I ran over landmines, with my platoon following suit. We reached the vantage point after 27 minutes and shot down the remaining enemy forces. We then stood here, unaffected by the -4 degree cold, looking at the now flying tricolor."
It was the last week of July 1999, with the Kargil war coming to an end. As a kid, this was probably the first time I was willingly watching the news channels, awed by the amazing stories of courage, valor, determination, and above all, pride. Stories of Captain Manoj Pandey, who had given his life for the nation were been spoken about in every nook and corner of the city. The ten-year-old me was detached from the pathos of the war but got very interested in the lives of our brave army men. So as usually happens for any kid, I started hounding my father with questions about army men, army life, and so on.
"Go speak to Shome Uncle. He is a war veteran, from the 1971 Indo-Pak war. I am sure he will share many stories from his experience.", said my father. A shiver ran down my spine, and speaking to "Shome Uncle" was nothing less than heading to the gallows for me. He was our neighbor, a retired army officer. His image came to mind- walking at a steady speed, 6 foot plus hulking figure, handlebar mustache, golf cap, shoulders hunched with age. There was a certain energy about him, like a man who was always alert, his cold black eyes always on the lookout. He was always accompanied by "Sultan", his faithful German shepherd, who looked equally menacing, larger than any dog I had ever seen. To cap it all, his wife was a school principal, a strict disciplinarian known in our locality for her adherence to a schedule, and a penchant for cooking lip-smacking chicken, the smell of which usually found its way to our home as well.
So basically, dad's suggestion was a no go for me. However, curiosity ultimately got the better of me and I headed toward Shome uncle's home. Trembling just a little bit, I rang the bell- followed by sharp barks from Sultan. As I waited, I saw a foot-long bone lying in their porch area, showing marks where Sultan had gnawed on it. I took a step back and was contemplating going back when Shome uncle answered the door.
"Namaste Uncle"
"Hello beta", growled Shome uncle
"Uncle I was wondering if you can tell me your experience of the army and...." trailing off as Sultan had come out as well, looking at me with those scary eyes.
And then something happened, which shocked me. "Come back at 6 pm tomorrow, and we'll sit", he said, a small smile now on his face. I bade him goodbye and ran home, not believing my gumption. The next day, at 6 pm, I rang the bell at his home. Out came Sultan, scanning me. Shome uncle let me in, only to then be ambushed by Sultan, who started sniffing me. Paralyzed, I stood still, eyes closed and expecting sharp teeth to sink into my skin any second. After waiting 10 seconds (trust me, it looked like a year), I opened my eyes to see Sultan sniffing me, tail wagging affectionately. All of a sudden, those scary eyes started looking normal, even adorable to me. His demeanor looked harmless, coming off as a dog who would be your companion. Shome uncle egged me to rub his coat- to which Sultan responded by literally standing up on his hind legs and trying to lick my face.
With that ordeal over, I went inside his home. The drawing room was a mix of academics and the army coming together. There were medals, awards, and uniform on display, with a big library of books adorning the walls. There were two armchairs, with steaming hot coffee ready. We sat, and he started telling me about his stories, from the 1971 Indo-Pak war. He told us all about a day in the life of an army man, their training, the various protocols they follow, and how every single thing from how they stand, to how they speak, is deeply ingrained in them. What struck me the most was the pride in his voice, as he told me his best story, "I ran over landmines, with my platoon following suit. We reached the vantage point after 27 minutes and shot down the remaining enemy forces. We then stood here, unaffected by the -4 degree cold, looking at the now flying tricolor." After about 2 hours, he looked at the clock and asked me to go home as it was late. On my way out, he asked if I wanted to meet again, and we ended up fixing a time for the very next day, at dot 1800 hours!
I went to his home again the next day and was greeted by Sultan, who sauntered up to me. Uncle Shome was waiting for me in the armchair, ready with another round of war stories for me. This time, aunty joined us as well, sharing how she felt when there was no way of communicating with him when he was in his various postings. Her stories showed me the other side of war when she had to spend days alone, with her two sons, not sure whether she will see their father again. What was noticeable even here, was the pride with which she said, "my husband has shed blood for the country!"
Again, time ran past us. It was eight pm, and I had to leave for home. As I bade them farewell, I noticed something I had not noticed earlier. While I was leaving the room, I saw Uncle Shome in a new light. He was no longer the scary, angry-looking old man, but a kind, joyful, amazing old man who had lived a grand life! His sons were in other cities, busy with their careers. A 10-year-old me brought him joy, just listening to him.
Appearances and pre-conceived notions can be deceiving. Go, speak to people. You might be in for a surprise!
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