A GUARD WITH A DIFFERENCE
LT COL NOEL ELLIS
16/IX/2022
A month back the security agency of our colony was changed. The familiar guards now looked unfamiliar. New faces, new characters, new personalities were now at our gates.
Be that as it may. These new guys are very courteous to us, I don’t know why.
As a habit from my fauji days, as one approached the main entry gate, we would switch off our head lights and switch on our cabin lights for ease of identification. Believe you me, drop gates were lifted immediately.
Our friends here start flickering their headlights fanatically. If the gate is not opened as they approach the barrier, they start honking irritably too. Guards then have no choice but to make them halt hurting lot of egos. What is the blinding hurry? I don’t understand.
One of the guards commented, “Saab is a ‘fauji afsar.” Some of the Guards started doing ‘namaste’ and some started saluting with a ‘Jai Hind,’ whenever we passed the gates. I made it a point to reciprocate with Jai Hind, loudly and proudly. Respect which they showed to ‘us’ was a point to note.
The difference was noticeable. I visit the river front for a photo shoot often. This guard, whoever it is, get ups, wishes me, opens the gate for me and closes it behind me without asking. But not so for the regular visitors to the mandir there, who have to do it themselves.
Recently, one guard who while on patrol would halt and wish me, while I would be tending to my pots. Nothing could bring a broader smile if you heard this word, “Jai Hind” first thing in the morning. There are many ‘morning walkers,’ who turn their face to the other side, as if I might take a toll tax to wish them. I still do, irrespective whether they respond or not.
This guard, stopped by one day. ‘Saab ye yellow ‘Lunia’ ki ek dali mil sakti hai kya, ghar par lagaunga.’ Avashya I said, and pinched a branch and gave it to him. He thanked me profusely and told me he had all the colours except this one. I was impressed as he appeared to be a plant enthusiast.
This morning this man won my heart. He was as usual on his patrol and halted for a moment and we chatted. I was impressed with his knowledge of plants and flowers. He talked about Bonsais, Gudhal as Hibiscus is called, Table Rose and others. “Aap ne rubber plant nahi lagaya saab?” He asked. I said, “nahi,” “bahut sunder dikhta hai kale wala patta,” he said. I nodded in agreement.
He also asked me about the Christmas tree. I told him that I had one. Then he asked me about the ‘Baby’s Tears.’ They are now the mainstay of my hanging pots. I was enthralled again by his knowledge. “Aap ke paas vo latakene wala hai, jis ki patti hari aur choti hoti hai,” he said. I could not understand what plant he meant. He described the plant again and said, “chayan main lagta hai.” I said, sorry, unless I see the plant, I won’t be able to comment.
“Main us ki cutting launga aap ke liye.” Aap ke sunder garden ki sunderta aur barh jayegi. This man stole my heart away. I thanked him for his appreciation and he proceeded on his patrol.
My heart was so glad. This man must have been a guard at a nursery, I conjectured. See his honesty that he asked me for a branch and not like others who steal them on the quiet. What really impressed me was that he was the first person to offer me to give a plant cutting from his own collection.
People keep a keen eye and come asking for cuttings or bulbs. All are from affluent families who can purchase plants, never even thought of offering me one plant in return. Ye de dena, us ka cutting chahiye, ye bulb ke babies jab hon to dena. No one ever said, I shall get one for you.
This guard who must be earning a paltry sum showed utmost integrity. As far as his character goes, I leave it to you to judge. His knowledge of plants too was par excellence. I am not writing his appraisal or Annual Confidential Report, but just mentioning the personality he has.
On observing closely, he has a few teeth missing, his hair is dyed and walks with a limp. That has not deterred him to work and safe guard us besides perusing his gardening hobby.
To thank him, because he touched me somewhere deep inside, I prepared a pot with baby’s tears and gave it to him before his shift changed. His smile said it all. Do we find people with such character these days? I wonder!!!!!!!!
JAI HIND
© NOEL ELLIS
Comments
Post a Comment