Gurmeet Sethi

Ex-NDA,Lt.Col (Retd.)from Corps of Engineers with 23 years of varied service. Heading PT Chandigarh since 1998 and trained more than 6000 students for top level B Schools (with more than a 100 to IIMs alone including 2008 CAT topper!).

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EMPOWERED WOMEN


By
Gurmeet Sethi
www.meetsethi.com

I conduct sessions. Many a time one on one counsellings to empower and equip graduates with knowledge, wisdom and information. To boost their morale and confidence. In case of a female client I am extra conscious to ensure I am not mis understood. I try sitting at a place , where I am visible before others. I am careful with my words, my tone and still better with my body language! If I find the prospect fluttering her eyelashes more than usual, or pushing her hair every now and then ,or holding the eye contact a split second longer, my heckles are raised!
Guilty? Scared or just paranoid?

Empowering Women is an agenda , which must be given the highest priority if we as a society are to progress. A woman empowered is an asset to the entire family, society and the nation. However, an Empowered woman misusing her position , status, privileges and respect accorded to her on the basis of her gender is the most deplorable crime and should be considered amongst the most heinous of acts .

Women, are known to have used gender to their advantage from early times. They have exploited their bodies to achieve the impossible. Topple Kingdoms, Governments, win favours and are conscious of the power that they command over men or male dominated eco system .Mata Hari and Anna Chapman, the Russian intelligence agent , media personality and model are all too well known. Prostitution is a trade born out of this. Education and Economic  freedom  have only added glamour and sophistication to this profession.

With such strong natural endowment, how much more empowerment and in what manner is it needed is a matter of  Sociological research. Being more empowered means having access to more opportunities, more privy to information , more knowledge of technology and advanced means of communication, more awareness of their own rights .

Empowerment is a double edged weapon, can be dangerous. Women could be used as a front line camouflage for ponzi schemes, embezzlements, bank and financial frauds, insider trading, smuggling etc. In fact, to safe guard women against such exploitation they were educated, but what does one do when they turn accomplice?

“Me Too” and sexual harassment at work places could be a ploy to be used to one’s advantage depending on the net outcome. Favours , promotions, gifts etc if convenient are readily accepted. There is no denial that men are predators , ever ready to exploit a situation. Threat of sexual misdemeanor, has been worn by women on their sleeves. The truth shall always remain a mystery depending on convenience. Many a reputation has been sullied and truth remains shrouded, as such shady adventures always are mysterious. CJI, Vice Chancellors of Universities, Ministers, Corporate honchos, Academicians and Artistes. None have been spared. Maybe the deals went awry!
The other day, a video surfaced on the social media, where a sophisticated damsel high on drugs, recklessly went about damaging cars on a busy thoroughfare. When confronted, dared the hapless public and the policeman on the spot to touch her. The drama raged , till police women could be summoned to book her.

White collared crime  is deceitful and intentional. Its breach of trust under the garb of outward respectability. A Woman University professor, once visited her husband in Mumbai posted as a Custom  Officer. She not only travelled with her two kids, but also insisted on taking her friends children along on the pretext of showing them Bombay. They travelled back by train, booked by upper class, with each child carrying his or her school bag behind their backs with strict instructions not to open them till they were home ! She sure would have raised a din , flashed her credentials, shed crocodile tears had some body dare to check or probe ! Such incidents are common .The higher status you enjoy in the society, the safer you are !!

Occupational fraud, on the other hand is deliberate misuse of one’s appointment, for personal enrichment through misapplication of resources at disposal. Not that men do not do it . Obviously , their numbers is many times more. But, feminine charm of women makes them smooth operators! Several bankers, judicial officers,  IT and enforcement executives have misused their positions .
Power corrupts, empowerment is seen in that light by many of them too! We have had several corrupt women leaders in our country who have woven an invincible cocoon around themselves. Indira Gandhi, Sonia, Jaya Lalitha, Mayawati , Rabri Devi and many others.

Our Armed forces, with just a few years into induction of women to some of the non-combative roles, has already faced a few court martial of being accused of sexual mis conduct . With the SC ruling, expect the figures to rise and the defence forces embroiled into their own quagmire.
Do we still feel women need reservation, laws for empowerment? On one side we talk of equal opportunities. Is’nt the Nari shakti , by itself potent enough? We want to make it omni potent ?
Ask the married men , how many of them wear the pants at home ? There is an entire tribe of them who run shit scared on hearing of being charged with domestic violence. Some genuine but many false as well!

I write this in peril of being labeled as a bloody MCP ( Male chauvinist Pig ) !!



COMPETITION OR COLLABORATION AND CORONAVIRUS





COMPETITION OR COLLABORATION AND CORONAVIRUS

By
GURMEET SETHI
www.meetsethi.com

(Trustee: WORLD PEACE MISSION Trust)

I do write. I do not write often! I need to be up to the brim to pent up my thoughts. I come from a generation that shall soon turn septuagenarians. We are the old school. We were brought up to fight for our survival. Schools were mainly about topping the class, worrying about who scored better than you. It was all about who raised their hands first, when the teacher asked a question. Peer to peer learning or help was considered cheating. Our confidence was built upon such facets. At home, it was drilled into the minds that we need to get marks, come what may, because it meant moving up the social ladder, even if it meant pulling down the peers. Cracking the Competitive tests in the Seventies for the Government jobs meant stability in life!

This has gone into our DNA. Although few will admit it, it’s been years of indoctrination. We learnt that most organizations have a pyramid cal structure, with room for just one person at the top. So, one must beat the hell out of the rest. We learnt the hypocritical social skills on our way, not to make it too obvious while shoving the other person out of the way. Our hopes, aspirations, dreams and desires revolved around this. We celebrated success each time we pulled somebody down. Collaboration was talked about but in reality never practiced. One-upmanship was rewarded.

In politics , we have seen parties in opposition stalling processes, for the sake of opposing. The Government proceedings scuttled at a heavy cost to the exchequer. The same bills with a new name pushed through by the very opponents, when voted to power. Could this have made any better idiotic sense during our times! Had one collaborated, it would have been called political treason and hara-kiri.

Competition amongst Nations has led to Price wars, refusal to cooperate on Global warming, Environmental issues, Armaments, Terrorism, Nuclear proliferation, Eradication of poverty, hunger and disease.

The Cornavirus pandemic is a case in study. Do we call it a fall out of the price wars between US and China? The Chinese desire to push OBOR, fortify its supply chain to build upon its manufacturing supremacy, that would make it economically No 1.Was the plan to dominate by crippling the competition through spread of Cornavirus, as is being talked about.

 This clearly reflects upon our inability to cooperate with each other. Protectionism has been the new mantra. Does the Mother earth not belong to everyone? Are we not answerable to the coming generations? Does all this not reek of our primitive learning at schools and thereafter? Do we not need a change somewhere down the line to have brought the world to its knees? Stock markets have crashed, Jobs lost, thousands have died. A Global Emergency, for which we have no solution in sight. All this to satisfy our urge to be No1, and that too by stabbing others behind their back. Our worldly pacts and meetings, UNOs and WHOs, SCOs and G20s, OBORs are mere facades. We talk Cooperation, but practice dirty Competition. We have mastered the cloak and dagger technique. After all have we not learnt it all this while?

Emergency! The word itself means Emergence of a new order! if we as mankind have to survive. The other meaning/alternative also exits. That is to move towards danger, disaster and holocaust to perish. The time is now for all these Septuagenarian world leaders like Donald Trump, Xi Jin Ping, Narendra Modi, and the likes to take a call towards extending Cooperation to one and all for the sake of humanity, future generations and mother earth, without malice or revenge. As the death toll rises, the priority is to collaborate and share knowledge, research. Information and resources, There is no doubt in my mind that the noise to fix responsibility for spread of this man made virus is going to get shriller by every loss of life and lively hood

.Our gift to the next generation could be Cooperation over Competition!

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Gurmeet Sethi
www.meetsethi.com








The Way to a Man's heart is through his stomach !


THE WAY TO A MAN’s HEART IS THROUGH HIS STOMACH 

Author:   Gurmeet Sethi

The first book I presented to my wife after our marriage was a book on cookery by Tarla Dalal. As a new enthusiastic  Army wife, she went about setting  up our temporary home in an accommodation that was devoid of furniture and cooking utensils. She soon learnt to make the most of what we had. A heater to cook ,  a multi-purpose frying pan and a few other items. While I was away to work, training and exercises she would delightfully experiment and produce wonders . I would get hot food once back home. A sheer luxury ever since my bachelor days!

Today, we are retired and live in our permanent home with all comforts. Children happily married and leading their own professional lives , away from us. But, the art of experimenting with food ever since has got better and better.

I got up early at 3 am to write this article. As, I was so impressed over the last night’s simple dinner so tastefully served, comprising white rice and Thai green  fish curry giving  a rich aroma of coconut milk . I must think of a way to express my gratitude and compliment her, I thought . Hence this piece of flattery!

Today, she is an amazing cook, who can produce wonders in a jiffy. At times gives a complex to her kitty friends. She loves to cook, adores her kitchen . Mulls over recipe books, you tube videos and cookery shows. An addict – No, but , passion –Yes!  Her open kitchen is always spick and span and a place of pride !

I have often wondered at the secret of our blissful married life of over 40 years. My mind goes back to what I had scribbled on the cover page of the gift book presented to her. It read, “ The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach!”

I think many a newly wed couple, need to take a leaf or two out of this. Its so important to keep the homes fire burning as much as you may initially adore to eat out. We too did and still do ! We perhaps  explored every other food joint wherever we got posted. As I look around to find every other marriage on the rocks, divorced couples increasing by the day, I am all the more convinced that the secret to a successful marriage is not just through the bedroom !

Changing life styles of working couples, has increased dependency on eating out every other day. Fast food outlets, Swiggy and Zomato have aggravated the situation leading to a thaw in relationships.

The sparkle and  glint of pride that I get to see in my wife's eyes , when she surprises me with a new recipe is far greater than that of a working woman who has cracked the code.

The Dining Table is still the sacred place at home, where one learnt all one’s manners and table etiquettes. A place that knit the family together. A place where topics of common interest are discussed. It  is also an extension of the kitchen where a woman’s writ runs large. It is still a place that children miss even after creating an empty nest!

Another aspect that I strongly believe is the Kitchen Economics that has led to considerably impacting Home budgeting. The difference in life styles was all the more glaring in a campus where everyone earned more or less equal and had similar roles. Where else can you get Tax Free savings !The house wife made the difference ! My good old CO would always say , “ Gentlemen , Your better half can either be an asset or a liability-choose carefully!”

I have always admired the kitchen management of such women. They are born managers, without having been through the jargons of expensive B-school education. They have a finger over the pulse, starting from  inventory management to waste management. They shall amaze you with their hospitality in front of your friends. These are homes  that attract guests and fiends, foster and nurture family ties, build long lasting relationships and bind children to their families.

Every day, to office in my second innings, my colleagues still ask for a bite, each time I open my home cooked Tiffin ! I am fortunate that both my daughter and daughter in law , who are richly qualified working professionals follow these simple ideals !

 May this be a compliment to all such women who understand this little secret to a blissful  matrimonial life.May they keep the home fires burning !

MASTERING ENGLISH LANGUAGE SKILLS


Mastering English Language Skills
                                                                           
                                                                             By
                                                             GURMEET SETHI
(Only for the light reader !!)

I am no exponent of the Queen’s Language, but found myself better than post graduates in English. Remember going once to the University’s Language Department to recruit Language trainers for my CAT Training Centre. The HOD gave us three of their best names. When put through a test all performed miserably.  In the class demo , they were even worse When informed , they were keen to attend one of my classes. They sat dumb struck and confessed that they were not competent to take on the role. Infact they wanted to enroll for the sessions!

The above experience and several others have got me around to believe that, it is nearly impossible to improve language skills of our youth at the Graduation level, if not done so during the formative years.  Unfortunately, we are unable to provide an English speaking environment to our youth at our schools. Thus, the dream of a good executive job, cracking competitive exams, Group Discussions and  Interviews remains a frustrating experience. The coaching centres encash upon selling such distant dreams to the gullible lot. “Nothing is Impossible” is the ruse that convinces the candidate to join.

He struggles with Reading Comprehension passages drawn across diverse areas such as Anthropology, Microbiology, Rocket Science, Artificial Intelligence, Psychology, Religion, Metaphysics, Aesthetics and dozen other subjects that he has never encountered during his educational journey of sticking strictly to his core subjects. He is suddenly expected to comprehend such areas.” Is this English?”, he asks! He fails to understand a single paragraph, leave alone answer questions!

His vocabulary, is poor and lesser said the better. spellings, pronunciation, understanding of roots, prefixes and suffixes is unheard of. Connotation and denotation are jumbled. Use of foreign words in the language further adds to the faux pas ! We are yet to touch Grammar!

Even ,at this stage, I dread grammar.  All that I know is “gut grammar”. There is something deep inside me that tells me that it ought to be this way! Do not ask me, why? This is no age to take up Wren and Martin.  At times, I wonder what do these so called ‘English Speaking “ courses deliver! I shudder at the very thought. I remember going through a thin booklet titled “English Errors in Indian Schools”.It taught that Tests are to be “taken” and not “given” and that horses ran “neck and neck” and not “neck to neck” !

Poor reading speeds, remind me of the need to improve this skill in our students. Degrees won’t fetch jobs- maybe skills would!  Such skills can be taught and can prove to be useful . An ordinary student, generally has a reading speed of 75 to 100 wpm (Words per minute) A well read student with practice and techniques can go upto 400-450 wpm. John F Kennedy, the US President had alcohol in his blood , but a fantastic  reading speed of 1000 wpm! In my career spanning across 15 years and some 9000 students trained, I have come across just three students with matching reading speeds of 1000 wpm. They all had been introduced to reading early in their childhood. Were voracious readers across genres.

This brings me to firmly believe that introduction to reading at an early age is the only way out! Even , Norman Lewis, the famous Author of” How to Read and Write better” has only one advice- Read, read and read for more! Catch them young and make the reading bug bite. Put them through story telling sessions. Gift them books, encourage library visits and form family reading habits. Everything must happen at the right age!

There is a madness that goes with it !  We have grown reading comics, followed by fairy tales, Arabian Nights, Enid Blytons, have  enjoyed reading detective series of Perry Masons from both ends simultaneously trying to find the murderer! I got my ears pulled when my mother caught me reading Harold Robbins booked wrapped up in a news paper, with a sexy lady spread across the cover. One had to do a lot of explaining!! We grew up reading James Bond novels, Lobsang Rampa, Jeffery Archer, Danielle Steel, Dan Brown and what not-these found more time than the text books .I remember reading Alwin Toffler way back in 1970s, talking of the Information highways! (Today’s Internet.)

Selecting a book by its cover and flipping through, is an art that one need to perfect. If one were to know the sequence, one needs to start with fiction, move onto self-help books, autobiographies and then mature to the world of abstract kingdom and philosophy. The difference between a man and an animal is- cow can see grass, eat grass  but cannot understand gravity!

Many have come asking for a book to be suggested for his/her reading. I always ask them them to get their own feel and decide based on their past reading and interest. What if I suggested Mein Kampf by Adolf Hiler! They would never dare  touch any other book for years to come ! It is best left to the person to pick a book as per ones taste and choice. But, unfortunately most do not have a taste for anything!

Talking of taste, Porn  during college days added to our vocabulary and reading speed . It was not just porn, Good classic porn! Lady Chatterley’s Lover, Casanova, Temptation, A man with a maid, Lollita, Confessions of an English maid and several others did the rounds after last light. Many of these were borrowed, exchanged and even stolen, found hidden under  friend’s  pillows. Many of us owe our language skills to contributions made by these valued authors and friends.  Khushwant Singh would refer to  these as the one handed books!

As hindsight, I wonder , if this methodology could be advocated to the already porn addicted youth of the day! Could recommending some of these books be an answer to this vexed problem? Atleast, they may after all get addicted to reading and find their calling (sic ) interest!

It may happen at some point in their life that they realize that reading a James Bond novel by Ian Fleming was any day better and more thrilling than the movie! Insha Allaha, this may bridge the barrier between their aspirations and dreams that has been leading to  frustration and greater scorn for those who are proficient in the language.

Cheers!
(Only for the light reader!)





I




APPLY  APPLY  NO  REPLY!     DO YOU KNOW WHY ?
                                                                                          
                                                                                        By
                                                                              Gurmeet Sethi

Shilpi Mukherji, the young, just out of college fresher whom I had recruited as my first employee at the newly opened coaching centre was a gutsy, ambitious girl. She was full of energy, lots of drive, initiative and restless. Four feet something, pretty faced with large eyes, Shilpi was an inspiration!
I was new to my role after my pre-mature retirement from the Army. I would sit grim faced in our long rectangular office cum class room centre, toying over marketing plans to get our first student ! Shilpi would cheer me up once in a while with her positive quips and cups of tea. Those were trying times. Rentals, salaries et al and no students, rising advertising costs and no inquiries

One month passed. Salary day, I handed Shilpi her first pay in a white envelope with “best wishes” scribbled across. She smiled, thanked me and then refused to take the envelope! Sir, she quipped, “ We have done no business, Have had no students, I do not deserve this as of now”. I hid my emotions, looked the other way and shouted at her telling her to mind her work and not get too concerned about the finances and progress of my work or the lack of it. It was too much coming from a 22 year old fresh graduate. I knew I had picked up a gem .

I could see, Shilpi was restless. She would do up the office, sift through the near empty files. Pounce , whenever the phone rang. The mobiles had not yet caught up in 1998.  Browse the empty in box. She would strut in her high heels , making that noise that went with it, from one end of the window at the box like office to the other window at the far end .Each time expecting some one to climb up the stairs. I dare not look at her. I was not worried about my progress, but more concerned about how would she rate my  work. My mid –life experimentation looked like a mistake. Transition from a salaried life to a business life was proving to be tough. but I knew I had bit the bullet . I had started to learn the responsibility that goes with being an entrepreneur! I had to keep the home fires burning, not mine , but of others as well!

 One Monday morning,  Shilpi came dressed in a saree. She surely knew how to carry it on her heels. “ Sir, I have an idea” Shilpi was standing in front . I looked up , ‘Yeah, what’s it?”, I coldly asked. “ Sir, you are so talented, why not get footfalls by taking up something through indirect marketing!” I was impressed, but put up a stoic face to conceal my appreciation , at the suggestion coming from a plain Arts graduate-about lessons in marketing! She continued, “ Sir, when I was to apply for this post, I struggled to put across my CV, ran round to put one in place. I had applied to so many places, but would never receive any reply. Why do we not put a small advertisement about writing CVs for graduates and the unemployed who would be our target audience. We could charge them for writing their Curriculum Vitaes ,to meet our working expenditure and then counsel them to enroll for our Exam preparation for the MBA courses as well.”

Not wanting to dampen her enthusiasm, I gave a small classified advertisement through my vendor the next day. It read : “ APPLY APPLY-NO REPLY !   Do You Know Why?, Contact: Phone-XXXXXXX, SCF XX, Sector-XX, Chandigarh.” It did not cost much, but Shilpi was happy. I was relaxed, as I knew it would at least keep her at bay for a few days, expecting a response .I did not think much about it, as my focus was to get the main venture going. I was busy tying up for guest lectures etc with colleges.

To my surprise, the telephone got buzzing. If not much, a few calls a day. Shilpi started to get practice at handling calls, trying to convince them to  walk-in. “On the job training!”,I chuckled. Shilpi was all business, after all it was her venture.

Most walk ins were unemployed, desperately wanting jobs and not CVs. They could not even think of an application process leave alone shelving Rs 50/ to 100/, as Shilpi would try to convince each of them. She was not the one to be dejected. She asked me to place a repeat advertisement. I let her!
Along with telephone calls, we stared to receive desperate postcards and letters. Addressed to: Director, Apply Apply No Reply!  So now I had a new designation !

Then one fine day, in walked an elegant lady in her mid 30s. Smart, clad in a pretty saree.  Shilpi sized her from top to toe like a tigress in waiting. She had got her first customer. She made the lady fill up all her particulars in the form that had been prepared for the purpose. She ushered the lady to my cabin and introduced her. Shilpi was on top of the world. She had after all succeeded!
I went through the details. Shilpi had gone back to her seat. I captured the missing links. The woman had widowed a few months back. She needed a job desperately and had never before ventured out for one.  I felt pity. I promised to do a good professional job. I asked her to come and collect it the next morning. I polished her CV, even worked out a few leads where she could apply. Drafted out her cover letters as well.

Next morning , she was there to get the CV. I handed her the same . She was extremely pleased. Thanked me and asked for the charges. I was overwhelmed- a widow in search for a job, trying to gather her life after the death of her husband. Chivalry learnt over the years  in the Services was still alive. How could I ask for a fee from a widow ? I was at my best, politely telling her that all I wanted was that she get a job. She asked me again, if I was sure, I did not want to charge her the fee that the lady at the reception had quoted. I smiled. She smiled too and left. Shilpi was blissfully ignorant of what had transpired at my end. She got to her favourite window at the end of the first floor office to see the last of that woman disappear.

After the woman had left. Shilpi was keen to know the details. After all , it was her idea. I congratulated her and then told her as to how the lady was so mighty pleased with our work. How I wished she got a job, as she was a widow desperately in need of one. Shilpi couldn’t resist any longer, as she could sense something amiss. “Did she pay” she enquired, her face all red. I had never seen her in this form. I told her, how dis-courteous it would have been to ask for money from a hapless widow! I had known a woman scorned is as if Hell hath no fury!  Shilpi, was like incarnation of Godess Durga in rage. Eyes blazing, she gave me an ultimatum, “ This is no way to do business, you would do better running an orphanage or better still an abla naari asharam!” I had received my first sermon on trying my hand at business from a fresher. She continued, “ You come driving your small Zen, that lady whom you let go out of  pity came in a chauffeur driven sedan!”

(Shilpi served our organisation for nine long years till she got married, mastered language, accounts and computer skills, rose to become the Center Manager. Looked after a staff of 15 and a student base of 1500 students. The staff feared her wrath , the students loved her motivating sermons. Most of our students working in Corporates in Senior positions across the globe, would fondly remember “Shilpi Maam” till date. She was an epitome of what we call  “taking ownership at work”.)


BROUHAHA OVER KARTARPUR SAHAIB CORRIDOR and SIDHU !!

 By 
Gurmeet Sethi
11 August 2019

Imran Khan , the cricketer turned politician, turned Prime minister of Pakistan has indeed bowled a googly. But,  the question is why have the Indians been trapped leg before wicket?
The knee jerk reaction by all the political parties is at best kiddish . It is clear that they have been caught in the quagmire of events that unfolded after the inauguration ceremony.
It was expected of Pakistan to break through the Indian impasse, specially after the Pak Generals had successfully installed Imran Khan. They deliberately played low but remained in the shadows.A new  paradigm shift should have been expected and brain stormed by us, which I feel we did not ,and were complacent . We basked under our new found friendships with US, Japan , on the inclusive role in “Indo-Pacific”. Our deterioration of relations in the immediate neighbourhood  is setting alarms.

Pakistan wanting to shift the “Axis of Terror” to Punjab and earn credibility chose its objectives and timings deliberately. It hit three birds with one stone!

First, showing its magnanimity by playing the Kartarpur Sahaib Corridor card. A low cost win-all situation! It sent a message to the world community, as to how considerate it is towards the other religions/minorities and its belligerent neighbor, who is refusing to engage with it diplomatically. At a crucial time when Pakistan is facing an Economic crisis, and not much success at garnering International help , this low cost option was a brilliant idea! It would make its case softer with IMF., at least so does it pray.

Second, Targeting the Sikh community has been a well orchestrated scheme, where it knew that the community continues to nurse a grudge against the ungrateful political dispensations ever since partition.  Starting with, backtracking of promises during partition , to creation of Punjabi Suba, to denial of Chandigarh to water sharing issues to Operation Blue-Star to 1984 massacre of Sikhs. The adversary has kept track of the systematic alienation of the community , which may be beyond the comprehension of a normal Indian , who feels all has been well and fair. The echo of 2020 referendum played it loud and clear. We could have easily avoided this  had we been a bit more sensitive to fulfillment of the promises. A case in example is the long delay in justice to the victims of 1984 massacre of the minority community and the complicity  of the state across various governments. How easily we forgot, but would the effected families ever forget? Have we ourselves not sown the seeds of discord ? Any enemy would find easy preys. Then why did we jump to open this corridor? Because we were caught in a Catch 22 situation , due to our own foolishness! So we trooped our leaders to Pakistan and now find a small time escape goat in Sidhu!


Third,  The opening of this revered shrine to the Sikhs on the 550 th Guru Nanak Dev ji’s Jayanti, just four kms across, would cost Pakistan nothing , but earn goodwill. Oh no! It would get them an year round stream of devotees from world over, with generous offerings. Perhaps not as much as the Golden temple, but certainly substantial compared to the trickle earlier at this shrine. Ah ,Ha ! and all this at the disposal of GS Chawla, the President of Pakistan Gurdwara Prabhandak Committee who till date was sitting on empty coffers. He would now play to the tune of his Pakistani masters with aplomb with a new found status.The permit holders  who visit  the shrine, could be indoctrinated and Khalistani propaganda unleashed upon them and their sentiments roused. ISI would gleefully look for soft targets .

 The cricket diplomacy that we happily propagated for decades, without seriously engaging Pakistan has thrown up its results ! Imran & Sidhu !!  Good or bad, wait and watch!! But what is surprising is how immature we have proved ourselves once again by trying to deflect issues .Projecting  Sidhu as the trouble creator without bothering to put our own house in order , would be once again an exercise in  trying to befool ourselves. 

We also must accept the fact that today the Sikh diaspora is spread across the world like any other religious community. They are doing well in various walks of life and have earned the trust of the Governments by even starting to hold positions. As such, should they not be expected to pledge their loyalties to those nations. Likes of GS Chawla should therefore hold little significance in our media and lives to merit attention . He shall play to his masters .
We need not play on the backfoot and must step out to strengthen our team by applauding every positive move. The noise over Sidhu is unnecessarily allowing Pakistan to play to the gallery! Let us no longer rely only on Cricket Diplomacy and perhaps hit this loose ball for a six by capitalizing on the message of the Sufi saints and their unifying message that transcend corridors and boundaries.




DATA: THE NEXT BIG REVOLUTION


Elisa/ Echo/Siri are becoming common household names and the use of these gizmos being flaunted by us as new found passport to be counted "In". During my last US trip I wanted to buy Echo, when my brother (a Computer Science Professor in US) cautioned me. "Do you wish to compromise on your bedroom privacy?"

The above is just to illustrate as to how serious is the business of data mining, AI and how relentlessly it is being pursued on naive and gullible consumers and more than happy people waiting to flaunt their new found pastime. We are reckless, more than eager to part with ,what we consider as info of no concern to anybody. Could this be considered as "Recycling and mining from waste?" 

Lets take a look at Linked In! When you join, in the fine print they made us agree to a declaration that says , " Any information submitted is at the user's own risk of loss."
There are no comebacks, no erasures or delete buttons! There  are billions of Face Book users who happily share their minute to minute details on the net.

This is the new intelligence gathering mechanisms in today"s fight for supremacy.  
 Reminds me of the Trilogy written by Alvin Toffler, way back in 70's: Future Shock, The Third Wave and The Power Shift ! Wish he was alive to see the next Shock,wave and the power shift that has come faster than expected !

The new revolution is -  the Data revolution!  Data is Power and Power is Data!!
We are laggards in the field of Artificial Intelligence, with maximum number of patents having been filed by the Chinese. Companies  such as Alibaba and Tencent, who  have been building data at a fast pace.

Crime and Terror are the new face of our future wars! Hope this shall allow us to understand the new doctrine and downsizing of the conventional war machine, both in size and status.
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Remembrance:   GHD Duleep Singh
Martyr-IPKF , Sri Lanka


 A Mem’oir by:  Gurmeet Sethi

The Course has decided to take up 02 January of each year as “Remembrance day”. A noble idea indeed in memory of our late course mates. I in my own way decided to pen down a few lines about one of Indian Army’s  first casualty, as part of the IPKF in Sri Lanka. Maj GHD Duleep Singh, Madras Sapper, ex-Charlie Sqn of our course. I do admit I do not have all the facts with me, but would try to pen down the Duleep that we all fondly knew!

GHD Duleep Singh was assumed to be a Sardar, till he appeared before you in flesh and blood. Till date I do not know what does GHD stand  for. Duleep Singh is what we knew him as!
A Jaffna born, Tamilian to the core.  Amravathi Nagar Sainik School educated. He was black , no black is not the word. Shining jet black as coal, with sparkling white teeth.Once we spotted him using “Fair and Lovely”. We would joke, as to why was he bent upon proving the product a failure! His dancing eyes and ever smiling face could disarm his strongest opponent. So soft spoken was he, that you had to guess what he spoke. A person with a heart  of gold and compassion , who could not hurt a fly. Yet he was tough as steel, had one of those perfectly chiseled bodies. A gymnast par excellence, He could bend his body like a hair pin. Could do standing back flips. He was a marvel to watch. He fitted the definition of “ Tall dark and handsome” to a glove.
Duleep was a cadet, for whom the pace of NDA did not matter. He moved as per  his own timings. Woke, when he felt it was day; ate when he felt he was hungry ; could stay fresh the whole night!  Half the term Duleep would sleep through his classes. Even  his orderlie would know that behind locked cabin doors, slept a cadet called Duleep Singh, for whom nothing mattered. Even when the Deputy strode down the corridors of Charlie squadron, Duleep could sleep oblivion of the world outside. An ardent smoker, despite the strict rules, could not deter Duleep from his smoke. Even a borrowed bidi would do! Drill ustaads could not understand Duleep, neither as a person nor his origin. Restrictions and Singhads were thus earned aplenty and Duleep would often be seen on his Sunday outings. PT ustaads loved him , as Duleep was good at the high horse, mat work or the ropes. Did he earn a PT Blue, I am not sure, but he certainly deserved it !
Did not happen to see much of Duleep at IMA. Duleep was commissioned to the Madras Sappers and was perfectly at home with the Tambiis. We met again on Engineer YOs and Degree Engineering at CME..
Degree at CME was fun and Duleep thoroughly enjoyed his three years as a bachelor. He gave sleep less nights to our course senior , a gentleman from a senior SS course .He was new to understand Capt Duleep Singh , on whom nothing would work. He ultimately, gave up accounting for Duleep.  With more and more coursemates gradually  getting married and moving out with their families, Duleep could be seen missing out on his friends . A few die hard bachelors remained like Gautam Mauzumdar, Subodh Bhatt, Sanjeev Rattan  and a few others. Duleep could be spotted moving gracefully on his bicycle. He was a rare  sight but could be seen once in a while. He would often borrow bikes from whomsoever, for his Pune trips.  Duleep was becoming a loner .Love for the peg and smoke had engulfed him. It worried us a great deal. Duleep, however was extremely sharp and could clear all his exams over last minute studies.
Duleep moved to his unit 8 ER, after his degree at CME. He was immensely popular with his troops. The Regt moved to Jaffna,Sri Lanka as part of IPKF . Duleep was thrilled and perfectly at home at his birth place. Duleep moved about in a ‘bindaas’ manner mingling with locals and establishing rapport gathering valuable inputs. The built up areas in the region had been declared out of bounds. But, nothing could stop the brave local lad from striding out. Duleep had not known such strictures, he had learnt to live life on his own terms. Duleep with another JCO strode to check a booby trapped house, as part of a routine mission. He did not suspect his own people to trap him . These after all were friendly Jaffna Tamilians who had been trained in laying IEDs and Booby traps by MEG, Bangalore.
Duleep was blown to tithers , the moment he opened the door of the booby trapped house. Another JCO killed and yet another JCO and an OR injured.
IPKF bought its first casualty. It became news. We read it with grief and sorrow . We had lost an admirable course mate who knew no boundaries, knew no rules, lived and died at his own terms .
Duleep was survived by his long widowed mother, a brother –whom we had met at CME ;was a budding dialogue writer and was looking for a break in Tamil films.

Rest in Peace, dear Duleep! All your coursemates mourn your death , this day the Second of January, each year !



Our Senior Subaltern is no more !


A Remembrance


Our Senior Subaltern is no more!

Col Harinder Pal (retd) died of multiple organ failure, with his liver affected 90 percent on 17 October 2018 at his home town Patiala.
Harinder was commissioned, a direct Lieutenant as a Technical Graduate from Thapar, Patiala. He joined the family of One One Zero , Bombay Sappers in 1976 .
The young rustic lad , spoke English with a heavy Punjabi accent and his punjabiyat showed in  his every day mannerisms. A bold guy, who would not hesitate to call a spade a spade and who would always  make it a point to express his opinion  albeit in broken English.
Harinder , became my senior Lieutenant, as I only had a sparrow shit on my shoulder although I had joined the paltan before him. At Chandimandir, life was hard under the canvas. Much to the amusement of all of us Harinder did not join us alone, but came along with a young demure, pretty wife. It was love that had been waiting to fructify ever since his Thapar days. Commissioing came as a blessing and the love birds ran away from their homes to get married, with no where to go. In fact Guddi’s (Harinder’s wife) parents learnt of it much later!
Harinder was allotted a Lieutenant’s accommodation on “passionate grounds”. Bachelors were delighted to have an alternate place to visit to dine and unwind. To our surprise Guddi was without the where with all. No household things, no cookware, no crockery, no glasses (He was expected to survive on love and fresh air!) . Yet, we youngsters were comfortable with bread and eggs smashed over a single pan, cooked over an unreliable heater. Guddi and Harinder never complained and were the perfect hosts. He was fond of his Contessa rum and would place it on the table for anyone and everyone who wanted to help themselves.
One evening, Our CO whom we youngsters hardly saw, announced that he would be dining in the mess along with the first lady and that he had also invited the Bridade Commander, his wife and their pretty daughter as well. The youngsters were given instructions. A quick menu charted out and orders passed to the mess staff. The Mess secretary, asked the youngsters to behave, play light music, if possible cook up some light entertainment and be well dressed and be present before the arrival of the guests. Our mess was in a big Store tent. We moved the arrangements out with dim lighting to add to the ambience. Harinder was well on time with Guddi looking as pretty as ever.She was the junior most lady. The guests took their time to come. The evening settled down . Our CO nor the Guests had any great affinity to drinks. Soon, the light music stopped, and to our amusement Harinder’s coarse voice roared over the mike , “Gooodd Evening , Namaskar, Aadaab…..Haazreen and Nazreen!”. We could see the COs face go tense.  Harinder to his mind was certainly not the best of choices for this role. And that too in the presence of the Brigade Commander and the ladies. Our MC was not to be intimidated, as Contessa had warmed him up for the event. He rattled out an Urdu Couplet much to the amusement of everybody and applause of us youngsters trying to encourage our Senior Subaltern. Nobody, seem to understand it. Harinder followed it up with a lengthy explanation in his heavily accented English! We could feel the CO go red, but nothing would stop our show. One of the smartee, who in a co rner was trying to warm up to the young lady guest, was unceremoniously interrupted by the waiter to meet the CO. Soon, Harinder was whisked away. One stone, two birds!!
Such episodes could never dent Harinder’s spirits!
One fine day, Harinder and me were asked to report to the Brigade IO. We were asked to proceed by road from Chandimandir to  general area in Anupgarh (Rajasthan), in two self contained jeeps with trailers for the next 12 days to carry out map upgradation of jeepable tracks across dunes.This was a prelude to winter Formation exercises. We both were thrilled at the idea of travelling over 500 Kms  across States in Jeeps all by ourselves. We had no idea of the challenges that the task would pose,
We as youngsters were given the jeeps by the MTO befitting our ranks, and drivers who may have lacked in driving skills but certainly not the will to drive the Willy Jeeps. We collected a team of three each, a driver, a draughtsman and a helper. Dumped some spares,  Jerry cans  filled with Petrol,  dry Rations , maps, binoculars, compass and some tentage. We had no idea what the deserts were like except from our IMA prĂ©cis. We were put on ration money, as we were not to touch any Formation stations enroute for refill, other than in the initial leg of our journey. What we were to soon realize was that we were to operate close to IB .
Both jeeps, headed in a picnic like manner, merrily cruising . I drove, as Harinder was not adept and sat in the co-driver seat. Summer Punjab heat was biting. We would drench ourselves and did most of the driving at night with halts. Ate at dhabas and enjoyed the sight of truckers whizzing. It was an uneventful smooth journey and early morning we made to our planned camp ,an Inspection Bungalow of the PHED, Rajasthan. We were amongst the dunes, colourful village folks,  camels and dhaanis.
We dumped our stuff, our helpers and set about planning for our task after a  four hour nap and a quick bath. There was no Lunch to be had, just pooris for breakfast and expect hot dinner, once back. Soon , the enormity and complexity of the task began to grip us. The jeepable tracks were so many. Each would fork off. Some would suddenly disappear across the dune. We decided to divide our areas. We had no clue where to start and after finishing for the day , getting back to the camp was an exercise in night navigation ! Camp had to be shifted after some days. We were tanned, under nourished, parched and many a times at our wits ends . But, never were we short of our anecdotes and jokes for the day. Harinder was fun to be with. His evening tot of Contessa , gave him sound snoring sleep.
One night, Harinder did not reach the RV.  I had nowhere to go, but to wait. Patience was running out. I tried venturing up and down in my jeep with his helper. It was 2 a m already, We did not have radio communication. Torch and vehicle lights were my only aides. Far away on a track I saw a dim light moving slowly across the dunes. I drove like mad to reach the light, it would soon vanish. I kept persuing, as that was my only hope. I thought the whole exercise was crazy. A while later I could clearly see the lantern light and the jingle of the camel cart.  I drove towards it. My orientation had gone for a six. As I caught up with the local camel cart, I asked the local, if he had seen an army jeep. To my utter surprise, I saw the whites of the local grinning at me. He pointed towards Harinder sleeping in his cart in just a vest and his pants. I chose the choicest words to let out my angst. Harinder’s jeep had packed off on a dune. The engine had seized. The locals helped him to tow the jeep with camel carts to a dhaani. They fed him bajra rotis, over his Contessa which he had carried in his recce bag. He made the driver and the draughtsman look after the vehicle and had the locals drop him . I got him down and after several failed attempts reached our camp at Six in the morning. I was getting better at night navigation without maps!
We aborted next days recce, as administrative worries started to overwhelm us. We drove to the dhaani, to retrieve the stranded jeep and our men.  We towed the jeep over the dunes, skidding and gliding. Adventure , it sure was to our hearts content. We laughed at our irony, cracked jokes. When we looked ourselves in the rear view mirror, we felt as if years had swept past our looks. We were sun burnt, wind swept, desert stormed with sand in every pore. Our uniforms looked as if we had borrowed from a rag picker.We looked like the Pirates of the Desert!
A quick stock taking and we knew we were low on fuel, if nothing else. Other things did not matter. We would not be able to reach the National Highway, leave alone back home. We started enquiring locals about the nearest military units. We took our last bet with our empty jerrycans to make it to a unit as informed. We staked everything at it. Wow, atlast we saw hope, a familiar surrounding, an army unit , but from the insignias on the sign boards we noticed we had crossed over to the Southern Command!
“So what, it was our Army after all, they would certainly help us”, cheered Harinder. It was dawn already, the sentry at the gates challenged us and asked for the pass word. We looked at each other. They made us raise our hands and marched us to the sentry post. We pleaded we were ……what? We looked everybit anything but  officers. We asked for the Adjutant, it was a Bihar unit. The adjutant a senior , stern looking Captain in sports kit sized us up from top to bottom. Was not quite convinced what we were doing in Southern Command having crossed over from Western Command , in an area close to IB. Even we too were not convinced with our own story, leave alone the captain. He kept threatening us. He suspected we had deserted our unit and were wanting to cross over the IB and thus wanted fuel for the jeep and that too in jerrycans! We had only our I cards to show. I tried thinking of my NDA coursemates , who had joined Bihar. I asked for Lt DK Joshi , and lo ,I had hit the bulls eye! Joshi it was in this paltan 3 Bihar!! That did the trick. Joshi was out on a course , but that did us in. We were fed in the mess, jerrycans stacked up and we profusely thanked the infantry for their magnanimity.
It was enough, we had over shot our time. We knew soon search parties would be after us , if we did not get back in next two days. We wrapped up our sketches, gathered our stuff and early morning were ready to hit the road with our majestic caravan. What a sight it was on the National Highway! It was a train !! A jeep towing another jeep , towing a loaded trailer, followed by a yet another trailer. Harinder proudly quipped, “ I am sure anyone from our unit would be proud to see our victory parade”. I was not too sure , neither amused. I drove on relentlessly. Harinder realized, I must be tired and sleepy as night fell. We ate at a Dhaba, lay sprawled across a charpoy. I was determined to drive on. Harinder agreed, as we were behind schedule. Harinder, apologized for his lack of driving skills on the NH. He said don’t worry, I shall not let you doze off while driving. We again hit the road, our juggernaut jostling through the night. Harinder would sing songs to keep me awake!
Great buddy, how memorable were those days!
I clearly recall, during the actual desert exercises, later on when unit was at CME. We had camped at a dhani and named it Poona walon ki Dhaani. We sat in our field mess for lunch, when Harinder stomped in from a recce. He brushed his shoes , wished the CO and declared he was hungry. The few of us at the table were enjoying the Continental lunch in the midst of the dunes. Baked beans, sun kissed cutlets, Russian salad and garlic bread served with butter and sauce. Our cook was an expert and took pride to prepare this fare. To our utter surprise, Harinder, no sooner had he sat down, closed his plate , dropped his napkin and got up. The CO questioned, “Whats wrong Harinder, you were so hungry and you have got up without having a bite?”
Harinder was as blunt as ever, “ Sir,I can not have Breakfast for Lunch!!”
Our last tenure together was in 1984, we hardly met thereafter. We shall miss you Harinder, remember you for your simplicity, zest for life and your Regimental spirit. We at Sadaiv Nipun would always remember our Senior Subaltern, who breathed his last on 17 October 2018. You leave behind Guddi, your two sons and their families. May God be with them !
  You shall always live in our memories!  
RIP !!
Your  buddy
Gurmeet Sethi
18 October 2018

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