Gp Capt Noel Moitra  VM

1. An alumnus of Loyola School and Junior College, Pune, I hold a Diploma in German, obtained in 1972 from Goethe-Institut at Max Mueller Bhavan, Pune. A linguist, I speak French, Hindi and three other regional languages.
2. Passed SSLC Exam with Distinction.
3. 1st in UPSC Selection Exam (Air Force) for the National Defence Academy.
4. 1st in NDA Air Branch Cadets written tests.
5. 1st in Flying Instructors School, Tambaram, Chennai.
6. Bagged Majithia Trophy with record marks that still stand.
7. Did my QFI tenure at AFA




8. 

   The Majithia Trophy Presented by Air Mshl BW Chauhan

   
   
9. Inducted MiG-21 bis in 1976.
10. Fastest 1,000 hrs on the MiG-21 bis.
11. Appointed sub-editor for the Air Force Flight Safety Magazine
12. Inducted Mirage 2000 aircraft in 1985, after a 10-month training period.
13. Only pilot to induct 2 types of aircraft.
14. Fastest 1,000 hours on the Mirage 2000 in the world.
15. Edited all IAF Coffee Tables from 1990 to 1996.
16. Staff Officer to 2 Air Chiefs.
17. Edited all that they wrote, from important letters to newspaper releases, compliments to obituaries.
18. Did 3 months of flying cross-training in reunited Germany.
19. Commanded a Mirage 2000 Squadron.
20. Awarded Vayu Sena Medal in '93.
21. Only pilot to have fired a S-530D BVR missile; it cost as much as a Mig 21 Bis.
22. Base Cdr at that Station, with 15,000 heads.
23. 1st in Staff College Entrance exam.
24. Did Staff Course in UK.
25. Did my BBA in the UK (University of Reading).
26. Did AREA Course in Japan.
27. Post-retirement, joined a publishing firm, Contact Communications and started commercial journalism, both writing and editing.
28. Raised its Technical Magazine to a level where it was rated an excellent Asian Technical Magazine at IMB, Cologne.
29. Rated best Editor/Writer (English-Asia) at a/m IMB in 2006. 
30. Hired immediately by a leading global aerospace and air armament concern and worked with them till 2010. 
31. Freelance editor/writer background.  
32. Equally fluent in both UK and US English. 
33. Was Editor-in-Chief Cypriot Smart Media Group, Macs Marketing, with their own website macsads.com/ It is still to recover after the Corona pandemic.
34. Their website written by me still stands, https://4viptour.com/en

                                       

                                                  MORE INFORMAL DATA

Preliminary Data:

DIVERSE SKILLS

Ø  Intelligent, sharp, hard-working, focussed, punctual, work-oriented and a team player.

Ø  Invariably ranked first, since cadet days in 1967, in ALL courses undergone.

Ø  Professional Military Pilot with 33 years of experience in the Indian Air Force (IAF).

Ø Became Instrument Rating Examiner on MiG-21 aircraft.

Ø  Instructor in Flying and Flying-related subjects since 1980. Ranked 1st in the entry course.

Ø  Tested air/ground crew on Mirage-2000 aircraft as sole Air Force Examiner for 5 years.

Ø  Staff Officer to two Air Chiefs, the highest and most prestigious post in that rank (Lt. Col.).

Ø  Wrote over six speeches/obituaries/prefaces/messages/presentations, etc. for both daily, 6 days a week.

Ø  Specialist in editing and formatting mainly official letters and documents, as well as memos, minutes and reports.

Ø  Considerable HR experience, commanding a Flying Squadron and later as Base Commander at an airbase housing 15,000 bodies.

Ø   Awarded VM (DFC) 1993

Ø  Widely travelled, with 56 countries visited, before and after Service.

JOB-RELATED

Ø  Only pilot in the IAF to induct two new types of aircraft.

Ø  Fastest 1,000 hours on both types.

Ø  Wrote a Service Paper on gainful employment of Air Combat Missiles, another first.

Ø  Acclaimed specialist in Low-Intensity Conflict. Have written a thesis, unfortunately ‘classified’, on that subject.

Ø  Have appeared on radio talk shows on the Kashmir issue.

Ø  First writer on a new airflow control device. It has been included in the Aerodynamics  Syllabus for aircrew, as https:// noelsramblings.blogspot.com/ 2023/05/vortilons.html

Ø  First writer on Turning Theory, including FBW aircraft.

  

                    ACM SK MEHRA, CHIEF OF AIR STAFF CONGRATULATING ME ON CROSSING 1000 HOURS                 ON THE MIRAGE-2000

OTHER QUALIFICATIONS

Ø Master of Ceremonies at all types of occasions, including Ceremonial like Parades, Awards Functions, etc. Commentator at Field Hockey, Soccer and Tennis matches. Commentator at IAF Republic Day Flypasts for 12 years.

Ø Have absolute command over the English language and the nuances, inflexions and subtleties that differentiate the exceptional from the excellent (Nickname: Thesaurix).   

Ø In my spare time, taught the English language in a syllabus-oriented open forum for airmen. Gave one-on-one tuition to promising students.

Ø Quizmaster at Scindia School for a bi-annual all-India High School meet for 6 years

Ø Did my Masters in English Literature.

Ø An Indian native English speaker, I have done my education and over 95% of my work in Queen’s English.

Ø Equally at home in US English.

Ø Speech and Content writer of repute.

Ø After retirement, edited 3 trade magazines for 4 years -TrendFusion, StitchWorld and  ApparelOnline.

Ø Wrote Academic/Technical articles while editing and proofreading magazines, pamphlets, novels, novellas, academic & other non-fiction educational works, theses and website content.

Ø Responsible for the proofed content of the company's two websites.

Ø Specialist on the WTO, particularly on the Agreement on Textiles and Clothing (ATC) and all restrictions thereunder(quotas); Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR); the ISO 9000 family of quality control mechanisms; ILO’s SA 8000, etc.

Ø Founder member of StitchWorld International Forum of Technologists (SWIFT), which examined, amongst a host of other issues, what was amiss in Indian workplace ethics, motivation, HRM and the tricky issue of gender discrimination.

Ø Check out: http://www.stitchworld.net/display0.asp?msg=1121&cat=13 and http://www.stitchworld.net/display1.asp?msg=446&cat=TechEvents both written by me. I feature in one of the photographs in the latter.

Ø Have written ~9000 articles/blogs, edited over 50,000 articles and proofread over 75 million words in MS Word, the microscopic Adobe Pagemaker and the Highlighter/Sticky note method.

Ø Edited pamphlets, novels, novellas, academic & other non-fiction educational works.

Ø Did my Masters in Defence Science.

Ø My last job required me to write Military Aviation Concepts and White Papers for my employer and prepare Powerpoint Presentations for them. My contract expired in November 2012.

Ø Read speak and write German fluently.

Ø Taught Personal Finance at Sriram High School two hours a week. 

Ø Help non-native English speakers get exceptional grades.

 First Mirage-2000 landing on a highway

FAMILY DETAILS

Ø Married in 1979. My wife holds a Masters in Sociology and assists me if ever required.

Ø  Have a son, an MBA/BTech, working with Alvares & Marsal in Manhattan, NY, USA.

Ø  Have a daughter, who after 1½ years in the Hospitality Industry, two years with Kingfisher Airlines as an in-flight cabin assistant, is on Faculty in Sriram School, Gurgaon.

Ø  Both are married.

Ø  I have no encumbrances of any sort.

Congratulated by the Base Cdr on landing after crossing 1000 hrs on type

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Now that you have an idea about me, let's talk money. If you entertain any cheap notions, you are at the wrong site. 

“Annual financial figures for 2008-09, released by Elance.com show that Gp Capt (R) Noel A Moitra is in the top 1% in terms of rates charged for his work ($930 per client), a reflection of his exceptional skills at meeting the complex demands of a very selective clientele.” For 2009-10, it was $695 per client.

                                                             

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Ø  MS Excel Spread Sheets and Database Management System: US$ 60.00 per hour.
     
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Ø  At Indian Forums: Rs. 30,000 for 15 minutes.

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Ø  Powerpoint Presentations: Rs. 3000/- or $80 per slide. On PD/DVD/CD, as required. 

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Ø  I offer Indian agencies a 10% discount.

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2.  "Non-standardization and non-compatibility definitely assure monopoly." 

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CARDIAC SURGERY

MEMORIES OF A BROKEN AND MENDED HEART

I suffered a heart attack about 16 years ago. Here is my account of what happened:

As I was rushed to Escorts Cardiac ICU, I just had this sinking feeling in my heart. Just like the one before you enter the Viva Voce hall and see the most khadoos examiner in place, only worse.

The resident there was quite courteous, "Sir, How are you feeling?"

I looked at him groggily and whispered, "Just like Rakhi Sawant!"

He looked at me perplexed. I continued and said, "I feel an unnatural weight on my chest."

The resident didn't know whether to send me off to the Psychiatry ward or not. I said, "Aare Baba, ECG nikaal, nahi toh main nikal jaoonga!"

The funniest part of my heart attack, or "cardiac event" as the doctor there insisted on calling it, was that there was no pain. That would come afterwards when they presented me the bill. But for now I was painless.

"Do you smoke?" persisted the resident.

"I have never tried burning myself, but probably would." My wife nudged me and intervened, "He does not smoke or drink. Just keeps cracking these pointless PJs."

The resident promptly scribbled something on the pad. He probably wrote that the patient was delirious. After peering with screwed eyes at my ECG he said, "Q wave changes."

I said, "I give up. You tell me."

"What?"

"I don't know Kyon wave changes. You tell me."

The resident stopped telling me anything else. He turned to my wife and said, "It seems to be a Minor Infarct."

I don't know what it is with doctors. How can you call any heart infarct minor? If there is an infarct, it is a major thing, at least for the patient. There was also some depressing talk about ST depressions. Here I felt as if an ST bus was driving over my chest, who bothered whether that ST was depressed or happy?

I was immediately admitted to the ICCU and posted for an Angiography the next day. One piece of advice to all Cardiac care units: If you do not want your heart patients to have any further attacks, do not appoint such lovely young nurses. Most of the nurses in the entire world are from Kerala. If all the nurses return home, all the hospitals in the world will come to a stop..And there will be no standing space in Kerala.

There were big notices posted outside the door of the ICCU. "No Visitors" and no "No Mobiles". Okay, so there would be no breaking news dispatches from me. Soon a pretty, young Malayali nurse came and told me "Gaana Gaaneka nai."

This came as a shock to me. Not that I wanted to break out into a song and dance routine. I could understand that visitors might disturb the patient, or even the mobiles. But songs? How could anyone be so unmusical?

I said Okay but was a bit miffed. After many pricks and monitors on my body, half an hour later another pretty young thing came and told me "Gaana Gaaneka nai!"

I was a bit angry. I said, "Yeah! Yeah! Someone told me before also."

But this really intrigued me. Why were they so strict about songs? If they had said that I could not dance due to my heart condition, I could have accepted that. But never in my long medical education had I been warned that singing was bad for cardiac health. I wondered if this was a new advance.

The mystery was cleared when the next Malayali sister, who appeared to be their head nurse, came and explained to me, "Sir, Aap ka blood samble subay saat ko hai. Toh abi Gaana Gaaneka nai. Phir Kaali pet samble lene ke baad Gaana Gaaneka."

I immediately added an interpreter to my mental suggestion box. It must be really tough to interpret Gaana as Khaana. But the Mallus can't help their accent.

After a relatively painless night, mainly because relatives were not allowed, and also due to the various drips and things, I woke up to the prick of a blood 'Samble'. Then I was allowed to 'Gaana Gaaneko'.

All the tests gave worse and worse news. There was an inferior wall infarct which the Cardiologist insisted on calling minor. (I hoped he would remember this while billing me.) My Trop T was raised. In short, this is a help call from the heart. I was posted for angiography and an SOS plasty the next day after stabilisation.

On the morning of the procedure, I got the shock of my life, when a grim looking man entered my room and sent my wife out. He then locked the room and took out a large and sharp glistening razor. Omigosh! This was not how they performed operations, at least not during the last century. Or was this a scene from an assassin movie? The man then turned to me and smiled and said that he had come to shave me for the procedure.

I sighed with relief. One always wants to look nice and presentable for important occasions even if they be the gallows. I smiled back at him and jutted out my chin at him for easy access. But he ignored my chin and pulled down my pajamas. I shrieked, "Hey, Its my heart that is amiss."

"Yes Sir. We need to shave your groin!" Groan Groan!

Five minutes later, I was all spick and span and presentable for my planned procedure. Calling it a procedure, reduces the fear factor from it. If you call it an operation, which it is, you might suffer a further attack. If you call it a butchery, which it sometimes can be, then you need not go to the procedure. I proceeded with a sinking heart, if it could sink any more, to the operation room, which they call a cath lab. It's all about euphemism.

When I entered the 'Cath lab', I found it extremely cold. Was the AC at full blast or was I frightened or was my heart not pumping enough blood? Probably all three. There was soft music playing Hindi songs in the background. The nurse told me to remove all my clothes and lie down on a narrow table. I have already mentioned the weather conditions, so it did not help that here I was completely nude like a fresh plucked chicken, lying on a table, with half my respective buttocks spilling out of the respective sides of the table. The AC vent was directed towards the exact centre of my body.

The Hindi song playing was "Haste Gaate yahan se gujar, Duniya ki tu parwa na kar." That was very kind of my namesake Kishoreda to remind me how to face this ordeal. But I was very frightened. His next verse also told me, "Maut ani hai ayegi ek din, Jaan jaani hai jaayegi ek din, Aisi baton se kya ghabarana, Yaha kal kya ho kisne jaana?" I almost burst out yodeling along with him . OOdle di OOd le di Ooo oo.

The anesthetist approached me and saw me smiling. He was confused. Was this guy so frightened that he was smiling? How could I tell him that I was marveling at Kishoreda's accurate advice to me, a smaller Kishore Kumar.

Then came the good part. Many layers of warm clothes were laid on me. I was shivering, but no longer like the Antarctica. It was more like Shimla now.

The Cardiologist told me that I would now feel a little pain in my groin.

Most appropriately, the song playing now was "Dil hai kaha aur Dard kaha". I smiled and said, "Right, Doc. Go ahead."

I won't go into the gruesome details, but what was visible to me and the entire team there was that my Right Coronary artery was nearly completely blocked. The doctor said, "Yes, a stent will be required.

“Sir, should we insert an Endeavor drug eluting stent?"

I felt ashamed to admit to him that I didn't know a thing about stents. Being a pilot, I only knew about stunts. So I asked him, "What is the difference between this one and the other one?" I didn't know the name of the other one, so I cloaked it in the anonymity of 'the other one'. He said, "There are many differences, but the main one is in the price."

"Then I think you should ask my wife, because she is the one with the purse as well as the purse strings."

After a brief consultation, my wife decided that her husband was after all worth a bit more than this costly stent. But the effect was magical. In front of my eyes, I could see a withered autumn tree of heart vasculature suddenly burst out in full spring glory of new tributaries.

Thus I came out of the 'lab' a new and reborn man. It seemed as if I had thrown off my school shirt and worn a new comfy and roomy one. It was as if I had exchanged Adnan Sami's new shirt for his older ones. No more tightness around the chest. The song playing in the lab when I came out was appropriately "Aaj Main jawaan ho gayi hoon. Gul se gulistan ho gayi hoon."

When I returned home from the hospital after paying the bill, I realized that the old proverb was probably coined by a cardiologist.

Which proverb?

It's the one that says: Jaan bachi, Lakho paye.

Thus my heart tried to spring me a surprise. So I surprised it with a spring into my heart. Now I walk with a spring in my step and one in my heart too!" 

BUNDI PALACE

 THE WORK OF GOBLINS RATHER THAN OF MEN

The Bundi Palace with Taragarh Fort walls visible at the topmost portion

Jeypore Palace may be called the Versailles of India; Udaipur's House of State is dwarfed by the hills round it and the spread of the Pichola Lake; Jodhpur's House of strife, gray towers on red rock, is the work of giants, but the Palace of Bundi, even in broad daylight, is such a palace as men build for themselves in uneasy dreams-- the work of goblins rather than of men. Rudyard Kipling 1887

Bundi is a city and a municipality of approximately 95,000 inhabitants in the Hadoti region of Rajasthan state in northwest India. It is of particular architectural note for its ornate forts, palaces, and stepwell reservoirs known as baoris. It is the administrative headquarters of Bundi District. Bundi is situated about 35 km from Kota and 210 km from Jaipur.

Bundi Palace: General description or information about Bundi Palace is rather limited or just duplicated in most websites detailing Bundi today. Bundi (Garh) Palace takes pride of place amongst the Forts and Palaces in Bundi, situated on the side of the hill below but adjacent to the Taragarh Fort. The palace is accessed from the bazaar (north-western end. Originally thought to be built during the 16th and 17th centuries, using stone from local quarries, this outstanding palace represents classic Rajasthani architecture, liberally sprinkled with delicately carved brackets, pillars, balconies and sculpted elephants, crowned by breathtakingly dazzling friezes. However, its construction is now dated to 1598 CE. Moreover, confusion between the Hindu calendar and the Gregorian has led to overlapping periods of reign of various rulers. Rulers were permitted by the Mughals to call themselves Rao, then Rao Raja and finally, by the British, Rao Maharajas. The monuments are closed to the public.  

A closer look at the Palaces 

The Royal Lineage: The list of rulers relevant to this chronicle is given below.

• Rao Bhoj Singh ( 1585- 1607)
• Rao Rattan Singh (1607-31)
• Rao Chhattar Sal (1632-58)
• Rao Bhao Singh (1658-78) the eldest son of Chhattar Sal
• Rao Anirudh Singh (1682 - 1696) grandnephew of Bhao Singh
• Rao Budh Singh (1696 to 1735)
• Rao Ummed Singh (1749-1770).14 years remain unaccounted for.   
• Rao Raja Bishan Singh (1773-1821) 
• Maharao Raja Ram Singh (1821-89)
• Rao Raja Raghubir Singh (1889-1927)
• The Core of Bundi Palace:

Rao Bhoj Singh’s audience hall, the Hathiyansal, facing Chattar Mahal (Rao Chhattar Sal’s creation) is the earliest of the major buildings remaining within Bundi Palace. Built by Rao Bhoj Singh (1585-1607), this remainder of Rao Bhoj Singh’s palace is dated S.1655 (1598 CE). Bhoj was the father of Rao Ratan Singh, who built his own audience hall, the Ratan Daulat, on a larger and different building concept, with unique style, sense of space, quality of work, and physical orientation. Ratan Singh’s palace, Ratan Mahal, is behind Ratan Daulat. The inference is obvious: The palaces of these three key rulers of Bundi are closely interrelated, physically as well as dynastically; they form the historic core of Bundi Palace, the core from which later buildings extended. 

Stepping Back Into History: 

The Palace of Raj Bhoj: The Hathiyansal, The Phul Mahal, and The Badal Mahal: When the palace was in use, Hathipol would have been very active. All arrivals and departures took place here, as you could access public/private quarters, including, via secreted passages, the zenana. A stepway on the right led to a raised gallery and into the Ratan Daulat, an audience hall built by Rao Ratan Singh (1607-1631).

This was a high and open hall overlooking the western entrance. At the opposite end, another passage led into a raised courtyard looking down on the Hathipol. The spaces of Bhoj Singh’s palace are small, common to all early Rajput structures. The audience hall of Bhoj Singh is named Hathiyansal for the fine sculptures of elephants (hathiyan) atop its pillars. Immediately above is a set of rooms called the Phul Mahal, with exceptional architecture and nineteenth-century paintings. The upper floor had a partly covered terrace and a jharokha, a window (now closed in) for the people of Bundi to get a glimpse of their Rao.  There is also a single painted room, about 4.2 x 7.5 metres, known as the Badal Mahal (“Cloud Palace”) because of the decorations on its ceiling. Here we sight something very different from anything seen so far and most memorable. The Badal Mahal paintings, composed and completed over decades, are the finest wall paintings in Rajasthan and fashion one of the greatest painted spaces in India.

The Palace Explored Further: 

Ummed Singh contributed the most to the beautification of various halls, staterooms, other rooms and galleries. Kishen Singh, nephew of the issueless Rao Bhao Singh, was given the territory of Gugaur to govern. His son, Anirudh Singh, was adopted by Rao Bhao Singh and ascended the throne in 1682 CE. Traditionally, Rajasthani palaces were compacted from the private spaces of predecessors, as each ruler added new and more extensive quarters to reflect his accession. Palaces were therefore always under construction or renovation. This definite compaction is clearly visible in the photograph above. None of their abodes is open to the public, though an appendage, the exquisitely painted Chitra Shala, a gallery in another Mahal called Sheesh Mahal, is open all week between 9am-5pm. This Chitra Shala, also known as Ummed Mahal, replete with miniature Rajasthani paintings, was built on the express orders of Ummed Singh, dating it to his reign in the 18th century.

The renowned Bundi murals may be seen by a privileged few at Chattar Mahal and Badal Mahal, both part of the vast palace complex.  

Chattar Mahal can be accessed by only one passage, a steep, cobbled ramp. Entry to the palace is through the Hazari Pol or Gate of the Thousand, leading into a small courtyard and the Naubat Khana or the Refreshment Room, then the Hathi Pol (Elephant Gate) with its two prominent elephants and old water clock, the Ratan Daulat which was the main audience hall built by Rao Ratan Singh (1607-1631), and the Diwan-e- Aam (Hall of Public Audience), where there is a marble throne. The famous murals are located on the upper floors, the parts of the palace that are closed to the public. Flash photography is not permitted. Kipling had unfettered access when he visited Bundi In 1887 and his observations may be used to visualise Bundi Palace as it existed in its heyday. 

The palace is wedged into and out of the hillside, in the enormous terrace on the existing terrace, and dominates the whole of the city. Since there has been little change in the Palace or the city since then, Kipling’s notes provide a perspective when going through the palace today. Access to the abode of the Rajas is through “Hathipol” ( Elephant Gate ) to a courtyard, a stable for the King’s favourite horses, with their grooms. 

Aniruddha Mahal and Rang Vilas: 

You have to go through the complex structure at Bundi with a guide officially cleared to unlock the many closed areas. You meander around to see what lies behind the locked doors. Kipling found private quarters, treasuries, courtyards, audience halls and a verdant garden which had a tank for goldfish. This garden is today a garden in name only. 

The large Aniruddha Mahal, an end-17th-century construction is to its west. For want of a source of information, we need to rely on the omnipresent Kipling. You have to step up to Rang Vilas from Aniruddha Mahal. Rang Vilas has a small and open interior courtyard facing the garden, with three sides under covered verandahs. Five inner rooms open onto the courtyard.

These are a room with wall paintings, once a bedroom; a Shish Mahal (a room with mirror work); a store room (with images of Saraswati,  

Gaj Laxmi, and Ganesh over its entrance); a toilet (entrance marked by images of Shiv and Nandi, Durga on a tiger and Ganesh) ; and the Poojaghar (prayer room) of Rao Raja Ummed Singh (1749 to 1770), marked by inlaid ivory doors. At one corner of the garden is a Hamam, or Turkish bath. 

The Rang Vilas has historical pictures and paintings on its panels, with frescoes in black, white and red, of elephants engaged in combat running along the floor. The Rang Vilas, which also has a separate exterior entrance, was the most visited space within the palace with murals which Kipling found fascinating, but which are common throughout Rajasthan. Rang Vilas was probably the Rao Rajas’ private apartment.

The Chattar Mahal: 

Portraits of Rao Raja Ummed Singh are also seen on in another major complex within Bundi Palace, Chattar Mahal. This huge Mahal was built by Rao Chattarsal, [1631-1658] in S.1701 (1644 CE), a Rao killed fighting for Shah Jahan. A beautifully decorated inlaid ivory door leads you into a darkened room containing locally fashioned gilt and silver four-legged beds and portraits of the dead nobility of Bundi. The door in the Chattar Mahal remains, but the furniture and portraits (framed photographs) have apparently been taken away in the recent past.   

A Panoramic View of Bundi and its Palace

MY NAME'S BONG

 BONGOLEES TO THE FORE

I've been reading the rot people have been talking about West Bengal's name change to Paschimbanga and it's time to set the record straight. There's no such thing as Paschimbanga. Just as there never was any person called Rabindranath Tagore, nor anyone called Mamata Banerjee and it certainly isn't Manas Chakravarty who's writing this column.

Nope, these names are mere masks we Bongs put on when dealing with non-Bongs. The new name is actually Poshchimbongo, rhyming with Congo and the twin-drum Bongo. The best way for non-Bongs to pronounce it is with a rossogolla held inside their mouths. Shondesh will also do. 

The name of the bhodrolok who won the Nobel for literature is Robindronoth Thakor, often called simply Robi Thakor.

Poshchimbongo's present chief minister is Mawmota.

The problem is the Bengali language is deprived of one of the most basic sounds, that of the short 'a'. So words like 'curd', 'murder', 'hurt' are impossible to pronounce.

'Curd' becomes card 'murder' becomes maadar & 'hurt' becomes heart... Ashok becomes Aweshok... Arnab becomes Our knob.

If we want to say, 'He's a man', we say 'He's ay man'. The hip-hop phrase, 'He's da man' for a real cool guy was undoubtedly coined by a Bong. We are also tricked by the letters 'v', 'w' and 'y', often say 'sh' instead of 's', while getting our tongues around 'z' is an ordeal.

The results have spawned many Bong jokes, my favourite being: 'What do you call a Bengali wedding? A bedding'. In fact, we changed the name West Bengal simply because we couldn't pronounce West, instead calling it Oashte Bengal or Waste Bengal among the city-bred.

These limitations have shaped Bong temperament, our culture and our entire outlook on life.

For example, the reason why the political right hasn't done well in Poshchimbongo is that we have enormous trouble pronouncing the Sangh Parivar. It's tortured out of recognition to become the Shongho Poribar. Just think what happens to swayamsevak with the ’s’ becoming 'sh', the 'w' non-existent, the 'a' becoming an 'o' and the 'v' transformed into a 'b'. Who in his right mind would ever listen to a 'shoiong shebok?'

I remember Mawmata Didi rushing to Atal Bihari Vajpayee on one occasion, shouting "Awtol-jee", "Awtol-jee", while Vajpayee looked hither and thither trying to find out who on earth "Awtol" औटोल was.

Our history too has been shaped by language. While we had no problems with Gandhi, both Mohandas and Karamchand were a challenge. Jawaharlal was a real tongue-twister, becoming Jawewhorlal, and Bengal turned to communism in despair. Another reason why Bengal is different from the national mainstream is our inability to sing 'Jana Gana Mana'- we sing 'Jawno Gawno Mawno' instead. But Sonia and Rahul are fine, although Manmohan is dicey.

We all know the Bong who works in Bengal is a work of fiction. You see, 'work' becomes 'oaark' in Bong. Obviously 'oaark' is not the same thing as 'work'. But we are certainly not lazy, only lajee.

Bengali does, however, have one thing in common with English - inanimate objects have no gender. So a Bong has no idea whether a bus is male or female and consequently hasn't a clue whether, in Hindi, 'bus chal raha hai' or 'chal rahi hai'. The upshot is that while we may mangle the English language, when it comes to Hindi we mince it into little pieces and fry it in boiling oil. That is why one of my dreams was to hear Pro knob-da make a speech in Hindi. After >50 yrs in Delhi he still said 'Teddodist'.

And phor all those non-Bongs who oaant to make phaan of aas, I oarn them: Beoare, oaat Poshchimbongo shays today, India uill shay tomorrow."

I believe one of the main reasons the British moved the Capital of India from Calcutta to Delhi was that they couldn't bear anymore to hear the Bongs sing, "God shave (save) the Queen!"

Cheeaars,

Nomoshkaar

THAT ELUSIVE SODA

 THAT SPARKLING FIZZLER: SODA

As cities grow, some essential parts of it inexorably recede behind the arras. The street stalls retreat into the inner folds of the new city, local ice cream vendors turn coy and cede ground to nationally known brands, the baraf ka gola with its luscious layers of colourful flavours is banished into the exile of outdated and unhygienic practice, men on cycles with loud bells promising to sharpen knives or re-fluff our razaais thin out from the more affluent localities, varieties of street food gradually become legends found only on food shows and perhaps most importantly we don't find masala soda vendors on our roads.

Growing up in middle-class India, soda was an occasional treat. Tired of the exquisite cool balance of nimbu pant, and denied the exotic charms of orange squash (only for important guests), every now and then we strayed into the wanton arms of nimbu soda. Made from a simple concoction of lime, some chard masala and bante-wala soda (the bottle with the marble stuck inside it), the drink delivered a surprisingly strong kick. Soda activated what was hitherto docile and sweet into something wild and feral. We doused our throats with this searingly potent liquid, wiped our slightly masala-encrusted lips with the back of our hands and went aaaahh with a sense of relief too deeply located to be identified with any part of the body. The pleasure was experienced twice over— as the liquid burned a hole down our chests and as the gas effervesced its way out.

For soda was a permissible foray into hot-bloodedness, something we were allowed to indulge in,' notwithstanding its ability to re-order the civilised molecular equilibrium of stability ever so temporarily It made us feel alive as it hit the right spots and shook us out of the torpor induced by a relentless summer that baked us into slowness. It was not merely refreshing, it was deeply energising in its own unsettling way. It multiplied the bite of the lemon in an exponential manner till it became something that corroded the throat as it went down. A nimbu soda has all the finesse of a homemade bomb, with crude, readily available and altogether ordinary ingredients combining chemically to produce an incendiary effect. It disappeared even as it burned its way down leaving us the legacy of a burp or two. In many ways, we didn't drink the soda; it was the soda that consumed us. The lime gave it a bite, a hint of cruelty that makes things interesting while the masala made it pleasurably Indian. In some ways, the masala spoke to the 'Indian penchant for turning all foods into a form of chaat.

Soda drew its power from two different sources. The first was its form, its ability to effervesce with latent potency. Soda is all intent, with very little content, a powerful medium without a coherent message. The seemingly innocuous water-like appearance hides an explosive wildness that gets unleashed when the bottle is opened. The act of opening a bottle of soda is akin to setting free a genie seething in claustrophobic anger, only to awaken avidly with intent. Soda represents the unanticipated belligerence of the ordinary; the possession of the otherwise placid water by a fit of red-eyed road rage. The combination of sleepy passivity in appearance and snarling energy in action allowed soda to be legitimate while providing a measure of wildness to its drinkers.

The other source of its power perhaps lay in its association with alcohol. The darkness associated with alcohol rubbed off on its accomplice and soda got imbued with some of the aura of sinfulness that inevitably surrounded  'hard drinks'. Soda amplified with the dark power of whisky, it allowed alcohol to showcase its potency in a vividly visual way. When we drank soda we were allowed to consume sin from a detached but visible distance. Vice sparkled in a whisky and soda, and the ice clinked mystery

A whisky and soda simmered with masculine portent, with the soda allowing the whisky to slide out of the brooding layers of its murky liquidness and attach itself to our insides, alive, brandishing purpose. As a delivery vehicle for alcohol, it was both respectful and impatient, trading off its complexity for a quicker, more palpable hit. Soda made the whisky fire crackle, both in the glass and in the stomach.

The key to the allure of most soft drinks today lies in part at least to the fizzy power of soda. Without aeration, beverages turn stately and offer nutrition and other forms of maternally approved goofiness. Motorcycle madness is replaced by scooter pragmatism, vitamins are clocked, minerals are imputed, and much-measured sipping takes place. The pour down the throat is outlawed, and bright colours are needed to lure us into the docile arms of juices and shakes, all pretty with purpose.

There is a small segment that inverts the meaning of soda. These are the people who coyly ask for club soda (with whatever member rights that come along with the label) instead of asking for an alcoholic beverage. They also primly sip at this beverage, determined to tame its impatience by waiting it out. Here the power of soda is simultaneously acknowledged and neutered. Soda has some heft, but it is studiously virtuous in comparison to alcohol.

In an India that is no longer as passive as it was, and which finds stimulation in many other ways, soda by itself may not serve the purpose it once did, but it is an intrinsic part of our everyday life. Step out of any cocooned metropolis, and soda is everywhere, Nothing neutralises the summer as well as it does and nothing produces energy without discernible content dramatically as it does. Soda today perhaps draws its meaning not so much from its bottled power but the spirit of restless and directionless energy that it adds to our life.

OROP? WHAT'S THAT?

 CONTINUED GOVERNMENT INTRANSIGENCE

From Brig Inder Mohan Singh, President IESL.

Air Marshall Jagjeet Singh, Sr VP Airforce Association, Brig OP Yadav and Capt VS Narwal, both VPs IESL were also present.

Dear Veterans,

I would like to share with you the details of my meeting with Sh VK Singh,  Secy ESW on 07 Jun.

The points I raised were given in writing to the Secy. These have been posted in the environment also. Discussions and views on these are below.

OROP 2: Like it or not, the Secy said there will be no meeting as suggested by us between the CGDA/PCDA (PENSIONS) to resolve the anomalies. The problem he said is with funds. We were shown the data of the USA, UK and India on defence budgets and share of pay and pensions. The USA was shown to have a defence budget of $ 1000 or 1100 billion and 16 per cent spent on pay and pensions and India's USD 71 billion defence budget has to spend 54 per cent on pay and pensions. India cannot afford this high allocation. I leave our economic state to your discretion. He asked for the specific anomalies to be sent to him. Now I would like the environment to know that the Secy ESW or CGDA has not even responded to the anomalies raised by Service Hq, can we expect anything? Anyway since we were told to bring these to his notice we will do so. Further, the govt view is that the Hon' SC has ruled "there is no infirmity in the OROP policy". Hence accept it. Much that many would not like, the case taken up by Maj Gen Satbir Singh and IESM not only delayed the 01 Jul 2019 equalisation by nearly four years, the SC ruling has given the govt a handle to deny every action of ours. All I can say is that we will play according to the rules laid by the Govt. We will begin our action next week sending them case-by-case anomalies.

ONE MAN JUDICIAL COMMITTEE: There is general silence when we raise this issue. I think this report is not to the liking of the govt. It would have demolished govt views on many OROP issues. Maybe even the SC would have had to take into consideration the report in it's judgement. I think one way out is to request Justice L Narasimha Reddy to make the report public. If not seek court intervention. No other way.

SPARSH We were told that 90 per cent of the pensioners have been switched over to SPARSH. 23 lakh out of 26 lakh. There is a mismatch in data of 3 lakh pensioners. Wonder what level of computerisation of bank accounts and pension accounts has been achieved that there is a problem of 3 lakh pensioners. I conveyed that ESM was happy to move out of control of the DPDO system, no matter how rotten it was. And now a good working system has been given in the hands of the govt again. Now we have to live and die with it.

ECHS: Our contention is that there should be no shortfall in medicines. The Secy conveyed this is being resolved and EPharmacy will be contracted for direct delivery of medicines. Regarding pending hospital bills, the reason given is the corrupt actions of some hospitals. I wonder how has corruption entered a govt managed and controlled system of ECHS-empanelled hospitals when the govt claims there is zero corruption?

ENHANCED PENSION AT OLD AGE: The Secy was informed of the recent AFT ruling that pension be enhanced on completion of 79 years and not go into appeal. Let's see what the govt does.

WIDOW PENSION: This point was brought to the notice of the Secy. Widows need greater financial security but on the contrary, their pension is reduced to 60 per cent. He said this is a Pay Commission issue. We'll have to wait till 2026.

PROPOSAL FOR ENTREPRENEURSHIP FOR VETERANS: Dear Veterans, this is an important issue which can help us in enhancing the incomes of ESM. I raised the proposal of Veterans forming a corporate and setting up Solar Parks in military stations. Power to be supplied to the military establishment directly. Win-win for all. Help in the worldwide initiative to tackle global warming, assist our PM's goal of more participation in reducing dependence on fossil fuels, cheaper power for our armed forces reducing their costs by up to 25 per cent, put to use vacant military lands and finally financial benefits to ESM. In all this justification I've seen that the stumbling block is why should land be given to Veterans. I didn't expect our senior hierarchy, in the Service Hq and the IAS to stop their thinking just because this suggestion is thought-provoking and never raised earlier. Do we want to take over mil land in any way? Can we physically take away this land? On the other hand, we will do something that has never been thought of earlier. We will put the money of ESM shareholders into a pilot project. One megawatt will cost us about Rs 4.50 crore. The power will be supplied to the military grid and not sold to anyone else. Solar panel power generation has a life of 25 years. In return, ESM shareholders will get about 12 per cent return, or even better. More than what banks give. 50,000 retire every year taking home anywhere from Rs 35 lakh to one crore. Even at an average of Rs one lakh, we can raise Rs 500 crore and help retirees get better income. Will convince them that don't depend on govt benevolence. Do well for yourself. All that we want from the govt is permission to do this as a captive project for the ESM. As I've said in my letter, the govt has given Rs 1.97 lakh crore PLI benefit to 14 industries. Another Rs 26,000 crores for green hydrogen projects have been earmarked. Some for mobile phone manufacturers. Rs 10,000 crore given for FAME (Faster Adoption and Manufacturing of Electric Vehicles). There was fraud in this also. Rs 25,938 crore to auto companies. This when we know there is a waiting period of 6 months to nearly 2 years for most models which are in the higher price range. Plus govt helps the industry in getting land. Against this what are we asking? Putting our money for multipurpose benefits.

In this context, I'd like to share my discussion with the Secy in one such industry, Textile. Mr VK Singh was Secy Textiles earlier and the govt proposed setting up six, if I remember, Textile Parks across the country. One such park was proposed at Mattewara near Ludhiana, on the banks of R Sutlej. 1,000 acres of govt land, part forest and the rest Panchayat land with wildlife also in the area. I didn't hesitate to tell him that a Ludhiana-based citizens movement, led by veteran colleagues of mine, of which I'm also a part actively opposed this purely on environmental grounds. The Punjab govt had to bow against the mass movement and the project was scrapped. Now obviously this was not easily accepted by the Govt and the Textile industry. I would like to question the govt, so many ways and means of helping a few rich industrialists but find no logic when we want a large number of ESM to seek a better income in a path-breaking initiative.

I also requested that coal transportation and CHT initiatives as suggested be accepted.

I know that this post is rather long, but I wanted to convey all that I can to the environment. I request this be forwarded to max ESM groups and individuals.

My next plan is to seek a meeting with the Hon' Raksha Mantri in June itself.

Jai Hind

LATINATE RACE

 LATIN CAN BE FUNNY

From Quid Pro Quo to In Flagrante Delicto
cc Non Compos Mentis

One afternoon, all Latin expressions were invited by examinate Ante's lyin brother Post Meridiem to the Tavern to discuss Quid Pro Quo’s phenomenal rise in popularity thanks to impeachment hearings in the United States. Quod Expectata, De Facto, De Jure and Post Mortem strolled in well behind the clock, Sed Sero Solito.

A wave of resentment ran through Inter Alia, Ad Hoc, Pro Bono, Vice Versa, Statim, Ad Interim, Et Cetera, etc., who considered themselves the frontrunners in the Latinism sweepstakes before Quid Pro Quo had sprinted ahead in recent weeks.

“Well, let’s get real,” said Bona Fide, who was always truthful. “Quid Pro Quo is being promoted by no less a person than the U.S. President without Curriculum Vitae, even though Pro Bono is available for free.” Acta Non Verba nodded in agreement. 

Hearing this, Pro Bono, who was selfless and always unquestioningly volunteering herself, asked Prima Facie if this was indeed the case.

“As Ceteris Paribus says, yes,” confirmed Prima Facie. “Although the President likes Ad Hoc, Quid Pro Quo is his current favourite.”

“What about me? I am always bringing up the rear… though I am used so often,” complained Et Cetera to Ex Post Facto. Nota Bene took exception, as did Post Scriptum.

“Dei Gratia, Et Cetera and his comrades Nota Bena and Post Scriptum are made of two words, unlike that useless Addendum,” consoled Alter Ego, looking over his shoulder at his shadow.

“Quid Pro Quo and Exceptio Probat Regulam are made of three words!” pointed out Carpe Diem, groaning, “I should have seized the moment Ilias Latina squared Homer up!"

“Actually, we should have all gone to war!” yelled Casus Belli, who, with Pugnare and Bellecose, was always ready to bare his fangs.

“We would have backed you & Modus Operandi!” shouted twins De Facto and De Jure.

“Hear! Hear!” roared Vox Populi.

Et Cetera was comforted, but he knew he could never become the favourite; he’d always be an afterthought Videlicet, Secundum Cogitationem.

“Well, fair is foul and foul is fair,” explained Vice Versa, an opportunist who flip-flopped often.

“Indeed, I'm sorry about our fate. If you all want so, I'm happy to take the blame,” offered the always-apologetic Mea Culpa.

“Let’s just stay rooted to the ground. Our day will come!” advised Terra Firma, backed by Modus Operandi. Legum Baccalaureus said to Semper Fidelis, “I will follow the qualified, Exempli Gratia te Magister Artium.”

“No, let’s keep on rolling and rolling and…” pressed Ad Infinitum. Sui Generis agreed, sagely.

“The bird walked to the toy store,” said Non Sequitur.

Alma Mater, who was nourishing her children Alumnus and Alumna, watched the agitated Latinisms with Sotto Voce, who was usually quiet and spoke only occasionally in a low voice.

“Too bad everyone thinks the President has flipped for Quid Pro Quo,” she whispered. “No one believes me but I’ve seen him canoodling with that sexy wench In Flagrante Delicto.” 

Suddenly they heard someone chuckling in the shadows. It was Non Compos Mentis, giggling with Alea Iacta Est in the knowledge that she, not In Flagrante Delicto, was the President’s first love. Its most critical condition is that this piece is shared widely, said Sine Qua Non. Post Scriptum solemnly agreed, now that Regina had departed, Requiescat In Pace.