FAUJI “THOUGHTING”

 FAUJI “THOUGHTING”

 

LT COL NOEL ELLIS

 

13/V/2022

 

With ‘one pip’ on your shoulders, orders in the army were, that boy you keep your mouth shut & eyes open, see & observe, speak only when you are spoken to, dare not ‘think’ & just follow orders. Attributes mentioned above were left to the ‘’seniors. One was too junior to even breathe those days. Seniors ‘could’ speak & think freely.

 

Even thinking was not allowed, imagine! One couldn’t discuss ‘politics or women’ in the Officer’s mess. The same trickled down to unit routine too. There used to be ‘politicians’ amongst us but they were few and far between.

 

How could one curtail thinking? Girls, Guns & Bikes, were predominant thoughts. In the mess all decisions were taken ‘collectively’ & “democratically”. Even you voted. What is your opinion ‘Mr So and so’? Surprise! Someone asked me my opinion. Sir opinion… “not issued sir”. Then someone would dictate to you, Mr… your opinion would be …., say it verbatim. Meaning, thinking was also done on your behalf by somebody else.

 

"Someone can propose to pass the balance sheet for the mess fund". The chair would ask. We “pipsqueaks” didn’t even know how funds were generated or spent. Spent yes, as one used to be in one odd purchase committee. If not that, then purchase from your own pocket and get reimbursed once you returned, not on temporary duty but leave.

 

PMC would get cheesed off and say, “someone goddamn ‘second’ passing of the balance sheet”. A senior would nudge you, “raise your hand you bloody fool”. Me sir! Yes, and there would be a hand creeping from behind and pinching your elbow hard. Out of sheer pain you lifted your hand to see what bit you. The chairman would then close the discussion on the balance sheet, that it was proposed by Maj X and seconded by Mr So & so, as he raised his hand. Period!

 

Someday one did get to think & you did what you thought was right. The senior who gave you the task would give such a dressing down as to why had this thing be fu***ed up. Sir I ““thought””, Shut the F up. Haven’t you been told that “THOUGHTING” in the army is banned for you. Yes sir, but… Stop butting and get lost before you get kicked in the butt. It used to be catch 22, you were damned if you thought and damned if you didn’t.

 

Now your brain would be really churning. A new template would be imprinted to do a task in a particular way. So, the next time you were given the same task, you were on pigs' backs. No need to think, just apply what the senior had told you last time. What have you done you nincompoop? You have just screwed everything again. CO will ruin my appraisal you bloody moron.

 

Now you think what to say, as the same officer told you to do it this way and when you did it, he blasted you left, right and centre. Can’t you bloody “think”? If you said that it was you who told me how to do it. It meant five ‘night guard checks’. You couldn’t tell him that thoughting had been banned for you. You couldn’t also tell him that ‘you F****n idiot’ this was your previous plan & no fault of this pipsqueak.

 

Then you got to the mess to have a ‘drink’. Even if you didn’t like it, to drown your sorrows it became necessary. The issue was, there were ‘too many’ sorrows to be drowned. The barman kept a count of them, though you lost count of how many chota-chotas you ‘thought’ you had. Bar was the only place where you did ‘thoughting’ over a drink & clearly that too.

 

‘Afterthought’ used to be to go to that  senior officer's home and “call on”. Drink his ‘daru’, be friendly with his children. Drink all the milk in his fridge. Force ‘mam’ to make ‘aloo parothas’ till her wrists went blue. Potatoes finished! No worries, get some more. Beer finished, send the jonga you came in, back to the unit & get more but eat twenty dripping with butter parothas, when you could have only four.

 

Then think, what did you do? Do some ‘chintan & manthan’ only to ensure that the next time this officer ‘bullshited’ you, madam would be 'beloing' parothas till eternity.

 

By the way, even the seniors had ‘their seniors’ to think. Who thought that their ‘very seniors’ would think. The very seniors thought the juniors should relieve them of all ‘thoughting’. But thoughting everyone used to do. Think about what? God would think. Fauj mein dimaag lagane kaich nahi.

 

We as juniors were worried about ‘major’ things. ‘Aaj lunch main murge ke gardan milegi ya wing’. DR milega ya 1 Ton. Jeep, Jonga, Gypsy were a distant dream. To think about them was like asking for a limo to go to the market. To ensure you got one, you had to put on your ‘thoughting cap’. Sir, I thought, should I get you some ‘rasmali’. Oh! Definitely, take my Jonga. Now that’s what you called ‘quick thoughting’.

 

All these ‘thoughts’ came from a one page ad in a leading newspaper announcing a “chintan shivier”. The young ones are not allowed to think and seniors have no stamina left to think. Desh chalta rahega aur fauj bhi chalti rahegi.

 

Sochne pe tax jis din lagega tab samajh main ayega. Till then stop ‘thoughting’. Agree? I wonder!!!!!!!

 

JAI HIND

© NOEL ELLIS