Hari Singh

I.S.C.

1954-1972

Tribute by V.P. Singh

 He was a genial and pleasant person, when in school, but not a particularly thick friend. Our brief tryst together Alas! unknown to me as yet, was to occur post school in the environs of the National Defence Academy at faraway Kharagwasla. 

We were destined, after clearing all hurdles and tests, to be recruited in Jan 1972, as Cadets of the 47th NDA Course. He was in Charlie Sqn and I, in Alpha. ( Squadrons can be broadly equated to hostels in civilian jargon- but they meant much more than that

Hari was rarely in a Hurry. He had the “मैनू की?” attitude. Earth shaking things in those training days  like a short delay or task not done, was not a calamity for him. Of course, he paid for it, in the form of punishment, but also elevated his worth amongst peers, by the sportsmanlike way he withstood it. 

1st Term is a motherless time. There is no time for friendship, sleep, eating, or any other pleasant activity. Tired, sleepless, hungry and forever busy, one can’t fathom whether he is coming or going.

So, other than seeing flashes of each other in scampering from class to class or Cris-crossing at PT, Parade, Equitation, Swimming, Cross Country runs or punishments, was the norm.  We met usually, in the kast row of the Maths class. Our hated, common Waterloo. Hari quickly mastered the art of keeping his eyes wide open with a fixed glaze staring at infinity, in class with all other faculties being dormant. It was a common phenomenon induced by extreme fatigue, in 1st term. I wasn’t far behind. Only my head used to hit the desktop and bounce me to momentary consciousness 

As luck would have it, the Lecturer was a Rajasthani gentle man by the name of Mr DD Agarwal. He had eyes behind his head. He was ambidextrous, writing with a chalk in each hand he could use both arms simultaneously to equate simultaneous equations while swivelling his head 180 degrees. He was quick at detecting conversation/lack of attention and you could bet your sweet ass, a chalk would hit you instantly and accurately. Quite an accomplishment. 

Being his place-types, he felt it was his bounden duty to take special care of the 2 of us. “ You idiots, will not sit in class. Both you duffers will stand on your chairs from my entry to the time the ‘class-over’ siren goes. 

Paradoxically, he was actually deeply concerned about our welfare and would corner us outside class to check if we were coping well with the schedule and all was well at home etc.

…..To jump ahead. When both of us idiots were to arrive for our maths retest  before midterm break end, only I arrived and Hari was awaited, he was quite concerned. He told me, it’s not a difficult test, I’ll help you guys out. It was then that it occurred to me “साला गोली दे गया”? He had more than once said “I feel I won’t come back here again”. On asking why he wanted to quit, he said-“Not at all. I don’t want to run away. I just feel that I may not return. I don’t know why”?

Unknown to both, Hari was never going to arrive.

It was only much later that an announcement in the interval of a Wednesday movie at the NDA Auditorium said “ Your attention please. Cadet Hari Singh is admitted in the Command Hospital Poona ICU. He is on the DI list. Any Jaipur or Xaviers Jaipur  Cadet desirous of meeting him, can visit the Command Hospital. Accordingly, next noon I took special liberty, changed to Mufti’s and caught a bus to Poona., reaching late in the afternoon and asked the sister to let me into the ICU. The rules didn’t allow that for reasons of carrying infection in,  but I could peep through the window pane,

It was a heart rending moment to see a young friend shrunken into skin and bone, reminiscent of those undernourished children from Somalia, body spent, with eyes shrunk into the sockets. He was lying sideways facing the window. He recognised me on the bed. His eyes suddenly brightened. He had no energy to move, but he winked, twice, as if to say, I see you and recognise.

The sister didn’t let me linger and shooed me away. I waved my hand and returned to NDA. I learnt later, he hadn’t survived the night. Later, when the family arrived, a funeral was held- my first in uniform. This was in 1972. Over a timespan, I learnt that his baby nephew at Peelwa, was playing with a .22 rifle as Hari walked into the room, saying “Hands up, or I shoot”. Hari raised his hands but the child pressed the trigger. Hari Singh walked out pressing the wound as his father, hearing the commotion, walked up.

Hari was moved to Gandhi Hospital Jodhpur, far away, The liver injury required an operation, but post operation, the infection spread. Only then was he transferred him to CH Poona, where I had met him-

Jumping to 1982 now. I was a Flying Officer Flying Hunters at Hashimara, training for a newly formed Air Force Formation Aerobatic Team called Thunderbolts.

It was a lush green area, full of tea gardens, forests and with several rivers flowing out of Bhutan, crossing the landscape. rivers.

We were friendly with some tea garden youngsters working as managers, occasionally visiting each other socially. One of them was a Xavierite from Jaipur, Kamal Das.

We ( I and wife) were invited to a Kalchini Tea garden party, Kamal introduced us to a freshly married Rajput youngster.

Over conversation we discovered that the girl was from Peelwa.

It was natural to ask if they had heard of Hari Singh, she said, “वो मेरे बड़े भाई साहिब थे. में तो बहुत छोटी थी तब”. What a coincidence. It’s a Small world!

I still cannot forget the last wink of that teenager. 

Another thing I recollect, Is a walk together on MG road Poona. There was a push cart laden with रेवड़ी.  He said “ जब में अफ़सर बन जाऊँगा, अपनी पहली तनख़्वाह से, में खूब सारी रेवड़ी ख़रीदूँगा, और ग़रीबों को बाँटूँगा”. An unfulfilled dream Of a generous teenage soldier!

Hari Singh of Peelwa. My Kamerad. 

He was a genial and pleasant person, when in school, but not a particularly thick friend. Our brief tryst together Alas! unknown to me as yet, was to occur post school in the environs of the National Defence Academy at faraway Kharagwasla. 

We were destined, after clearing all hurdles and tests, to be recruited in Jan 1972, as Cadets of the 47th NDA Course. He was in Charlie Sqn and I, in Alpha. ( Squadrons can be broadly equated to hostels in civilian jargon- but they meant much more than that) Arranged in four identical Squadron blocks of 3 story buildings housing over 100 cadets in single cabins.

 – numerically (or alphabetically),you got Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta and so on, upto Lima. 4 adjascent  Squadrons made a Battalions. So 12 Sans made 3  Battalions them  days- 

The Academy has been growing since. The latest addition being the much awaited arrival of the Female of the species. 

Hari was rarely in a Hurry. He had the “मैनू की?” attitude. Earth shaking things in those training days  like a short delay or task not done, was not a calamity for him. Of course, he paid for it, in the form of punishment, but also elevated his worth amongst peers, by the sportsmanlike way he withstood it. 

1st Term is a motherless time. There is no time for friendship, sleep, eating, or any other pleasant activity. Tired, sleepless, hungry and forever busy, one can’t fathom whether he is coming or going.

So, other than seeing flashes of each other in scampering from class to class or Cris-crossing at PT, Parade, Equitation, Swimming, Cross Country runs or punishments, was the norm.  We met usually, in the kast row of the Maths class. Our hated, common Waterloo. Hari quickly mastered the art of keeping his eyes wide open with a fixed glaze staring at infinity, in class with all other faculties being dormant. It was a common phenomenon induced by extreme fatigue, in 1st term. I wasn’t far behind. Only my head used to hit the desktop and bounce me to momentary consciousness 

As luck would have it, the Lecturer was a Rajasthani gentle man by the name of Mr DD Agarwal. He had eyes behind his head. He was ambidextrous, writing with a chalk in each hand he could use both arms simultaneously to equate simultaneous equations while swivelling his head 180 degrees. He was quick at detecting conversation/lack of attention and you could bet your sweet ass, a chalk would hit you instantly and accurately. Quite an accomplishment. 

 Being his place-types, he felt it was his bounden duty to take special care of the 2 of us. “ You idiots, will not sit in class. Both you duffers will stand on your chairs from my entry to the time the ‘class-over’ siren goes. 

  Paradoxically, he was actually deeply concerned about our welfare and would corner us outside class to check if we were coping well with the schedule and all was well at home etc.

    …..To jump ahead. When both of us idiots were to arrive for our maths retest  before midterm break end, only I arrived and Hari was awaited, he was quite concerned. He told me, it’s not a difficult test, I’ll help you guys out. It was then that it occurred to me “साला गोली दे गया”? He had more than once said “I feel I won’t come back here again”. On asking why he wanted to quit, he said-“Not at all. I don’t want to run away. I just feel that I may not return. I don’t know why”?

Unknown to both, Hari was never going to arrive.

It was only much later that an announcement in the interval of a Wednesday movie at the NDA Auditorium said “ Your attention please. Cadet Hari Singh is admitted in the Command Hospital Poona ICU. He is on the DI list. Any Jaipur or Xaviers Jaipur  Cadet desirous if meeting him, can visit the CH. Accordingly, next noon I took special liberty, changed to Mufti’s d caught a bus to Poona., reaching late in the afternoon and asked the Sister to let me into the ICU. The rules didn’t allow that for reasons of carrying infection in, , but I could peep through the window pane,

It was a heart rending moment to see a young friend shrunken into skin and bone, reminiscent of those undernourished children from Somalia, body spent, with eyes shrunk into the socketsHe was lying sideways facing the window. He recognised me on the bed. His eyes suddenly brightened. He had no energy to move, but he winked, twice, as if to say, I see you and recognise.

The sister didn’t let me linger and shooed me away. I waved my hand and returned to NDA. I learnt later, he hadn’t survived the night. Later, when the family arrived, a funeral was held- my first in uniform. This was in 1972. Over a timespan, I learnt that his baby nephew at Peelwa, was playing with a .22 rifle as Hari walked into the room, saying “Hands up, or I shoot”. Hari raised his hands but the child pressed the trigger. Hari Singh walked out pressing the wound as his father, hearing the commotion, walked up.

Hari was moved to Gandhi Hospital Jodhpur, far away, The liver injury required an operation, but post operation, the infection spread. Only then was he transferred him to CH Poona, where I had met him-

Jumping to 1982 now. I was a Flying Officer Flying Hunters at Hashimara, training for a newly formed Air Force Formation Aerobatic Team called Thunderbolts.

It was a lush green area, full of tea gardens, forests and with several rivers flowing out of Bhutan, crossing the landscape rivers.

We were friendly with some tea garden youngsters working as managers, occasionally visiting each other socially. One of them was a Xavierite from Jaipur, Kamal Das.

We ( I and wife) were invited to a Kalchini Tea garden party, Kamal introduced us to a freshly married Rajput youngster.

Over conversation we discovered that the girl was from Peelwa.

It was natural to ask if they had heard of Hari Singh, she said, “वो मेरे बड़े भाई साहिब थे. में तो बहुत छोटी थी तब”. What a coincidence. It’s a Small world!

I still cannot forget the last wink of that teenager. 

Another thing I recollect, Is a walk together on MG road Poona. There was a push cart laden with रेवड़ी.  He said “ जब में अफ़सर बन जाऊँगा, अपनी पहली तनख़्वाह से, में खूब सारी रेवड़ी ख़रीदूँगा, और ग़रीबों को बाँटूँगा”. An unfulfilled dream

Of a generous teenage soldier