I have heard that the best stories always include chapters of struggle and some hurdles that were overcome. One such story comes to my mind. It was the time when I was still serving in the Army. I was 33 years old then, quite young and hot-blooded army man. As part of one of the postings, I was serving in Pune.
In Dec 1984, I was coming back to Pune from my hometown, Kerala, by train after a short visit. Since it was a short visit I was travelling by myself without my family as my kids were quite young. I was journeying in a sleeper coach. The majority of the passengers were women and the few male passengers were comparatively aged people. Travelling from Kerala to Pune back in those days would take two-days and two-nights. The first day passed by peacefully and uneventfully.
The next day also passed without any drama and by night the train had entered Maharashtra state. The train reaches Pune at midnight and so everyone wanted to get a little sleep before reaching their destination. Almost everyone in the compartment called it a day, a little earlier than the previous day so they could catch up some sleep. I too fell asleep. Suddenly a lady from the opposite berth woke me up and started crying and shouting. She pointed to a man and said that he snatched her gold chain. Even before she completed her statement, my mind started racing faster. I was extremely furious and surprised too. This man had the guts to snatch the chain and still standing right there without any thoughts of running like any other thief. So I went to confront him and asked for the chain. However he pushed me away and asked me to quietly go back to sleep. Of course, I could not do that. I was as angry as I could be, and filled with these emotions I kicked him hard. Immediately, he called out for all his other companions and in no time I was surrounded by some twenty odd people. That was the time I realized that they were a whole gang of thieves trying to steal the entire compartment. Well, they all got together and beat me black and blue. Anger had turned into a cry of help as I yelled in pain. Surprisingly not a single person from the compartment tried to rescue me. My cry had fallen on deaf ears and I continued to get beaten. As soon as the station was about to arrive, one of the thieves pulled the emergency chain. As the train slowly came to a halt they all escaped into the darkness.
I did get thrashed but at the end of it the gang was so busy in beating me that they forgot or could not steal anything else from the other people. I was badly injured and could not move at all. One lady gave me a oil to massage and told me that it would help reduce my pain. Pune station arrived and I got down from the train. The porter at the railway station helped me catch an auto rickshaw. I reached home, which was 2 kms from Pune Railway Station. The entire night I could not sleep due to the pain. I had to undergo a month’s treatment at Kottakkal Arya Vaidyashalla. As I underwent the treatment I expected a visit from the lady for whom I underwent this pain. The lady never came during the time of my treatment neither did she visit after. This episode had remain etched albeit with a scar with regard to the ungrateful lady.
A few years ago I had started reading the Bhagwat Geeta. Shloka 47 from Chapter 2 from it depicted Lord Krishna’s dialogue to Arjuna: “You have a right to perform your prescribed duty, but you are not entitled to the fruits of action. Never consider yourself the cause of the results of your activities, and never shy away from doing your duty.” This shloka was an eye-opener and as I remembered the chain snatching event I realized that it was my Karma (my responsibility) to help everyone as a Soldier. I was bound to safeguard the country and its people and I did my duty truthfully. I feel proud to be a soldier. Now the memory is no longer a scar but is added as a feather to my hat!
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Oh my god. !! What an experience.
This was truly brave. Hats off to you Sir and to the spirit of Indian Soldier . And thank God that you recovered from all the injuries.
Joel Issac
The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.
G.K. Chesterton.
Hats off to the brave soldier