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 |   As the first blog entry got exhausted. My second book |
| Evolution of Love Part 2 |
| The snake represents the Ahamkara (ego). When we poke a snake, it recoils instantly and spreads its hood to attack us. Similarly, when someone says something that we don't wish to hear, our ego spontaneously reacts. This ego lies inside the human body whereas, in the Gods and the Goddesses, the ego becomes powerless. It doesn't affect them because they govern it. Hence, Shiva uses this Ahamkara as an ornament because it doesn't find space within his body. The Lord monitors the Ahamkara or the ego that otherwise makes us hollow from within. Shiva is also known as Bairagi (Vairagi), meaning he is above the mundane world. He doesn't fear anything as he is above all emotions. A snake that is deadliest to us, is nothing but a harmless being for Shiva, who is invulnerable. Another perspective of the snake around Shiva's neck projects his compassionate side. Since he is the Lord of the animals, he is kind enough to wrap a snake around his neck. This representation also highlights the universal belief of "live and let live". There's a temple dedicated to the Pashupatinath form of Lord Shiva in Nepal. It is considered one of the holiest shrines of Lord Shiva. The snake also represents the endless cycle of birth and death. And if one wishes to rid themselves from the vicious circle, then they must surrender to him with devotion and devoid of Ahamkara. The coiled snake around Shiva's neck also reminds devotees to keep their ego under control. When the ego is in check, peace prevails in life forever. Interestingly, Shiva is also known as Nageshwara, meaning Lord of the snakes. There are temples dedicated to this form of the Lord across the country.. ✨🕉🍃🌼🌈👁🌷🏔🍂🔱💟💀🍃🌙📿⌛️🌺🍂🐍🐚🔆🍃🌀🔔🌈🍂🌸🌻🏔✨ ✨🕉🍃🌼🌈👁🌷🏔🍂🔱💟💀🍃🌙📿⌛️🌺🍂🐍🐚🔆🍃🌀🔔🌈🍂🌸🌻🏔✨ |
| A paraprosdokian is a figure of speech in which the latter part of a sentence is unexpected and often humorous. Sharing 21 timepass praprosdokians: • Artificial intelligence is no match for natural stupidity. • Today a man knocked on my door and asked for a small donation towards the local swimming pool, so I gave him a glass of water. • I'm great at multi-tasking ~ I can waste time, be unproductive, and procrastinate all at once. • If you can smile when things go wrong, you have someone in mind to blame. • Take my advice; I'm not using it. • My wife and I were happy for twenty five years; then we met. • Hospitality is the art of making guests feel like they're at home when you wish they were. • Behind every great man is a woman rolling her eyes. • Ever stop to think and forget to start again? • Women spend more time wondering what men are thinking than men spend thinking. • He who laughs last thinks slowest. • Is it wrong that only one company makes the game Monopoly? • Women sometimes make fools of men, but most guys are the do-it-yourself type. • I was going to give him a nasty look, but he already had one. • Change is inevitable, except from a vending machine. • I was going to wear my camouflage shirt today, but I couldn't find it. • If at first you don't succeed, skydiving is not for you. • Sometimes I wake up grumpy; other times I let her sleep. • If tomatoes are technically a fruit, is ketchup a smoothie? • No matter how much you push the envelope, it'll still be stationery. • Money is the root of all wealth. |
| Something we knew but did not know why! The Rule of Ablautreduplication! Why `tock-tick' does not sound right to your ears. Ever wondered why we say : tick-tock, not tock-tick, or ding-dong, not dong ding; King Kong, not Kong King...? Turns out it is one of the unwritten rules of English that native speakers know without knowing. The rule, explains a BBC article, is: “If there are three words then the order has to go... I, A, O. If there are two words then the first is I and the second is either A or O." Mish-mash, Chit-chat, Dilly-dally, hilly-shally , Tip-top, Hip-hop, Flip-flop, Tic-tac, Sing-song, Ding-dong, King Kong, Ping-pong.“ There's another unwritten rule at work in the name Little Red Riding Hood, says the article. “Adjectives in English absolutely have to be in this order: Opinion - Size - Age - Shape - Colour - Origin - Material - Purpose - Noun. So you can have a lovely little old rectangular green French silver whittling knife. But if you mess with that word order in the slightest... you'll sound like a maniac.“ That explains why we say “little green men“ not “green little men“ But “Big Bad Wolf “ sounds like a gross violation of the “opinion (bad)-size (big) noun (wolf)“ order. It won't, though, if you recall the first rule about the I-A-O order...!! Got it..? That rule seems inviolable: All four of a horse's feet make exactly the same sound. But we always, always say clip-clop, never clop-clip.“ This rule even has a Technical Name...! If you care to know it... The Rule of Ablautreduplication...! But then... Life is Simpler, Knowing that we Know the Rule... Without Knowing It...! |
| Next to our apartment building is a quaint little school called ‘The Home School’. In the last ten-eleven years of our stay here, this school has become an integral part of our lives. Every morning we drink tea sitting on the balcony which overlooks the school. We enjoy watching the activities taking place in the school — the gardener coming and tending to the plants every morning…. the watchman getting ready to face the day…. the maids busy sweeping, mopping and dusting to give the school a gleaming look before the arrival of the Principal…. the bus drivers washing and cleaning the buses before they embark on a journey to bring the kids to school. Blackie, Brownie and Chikku Nayi (meaning “the little dog” in Kannada) are three mongrels who have been adopted by the school, and they are very important members of The Home School family. When the Principal’s car is five minutes away from the school, the three dogs somehow sense it and start chasing each other from one end of the playground to the other. Their joy knows no bounds…. in anticipation of eating the fresh food prepared by the Principal’s daughter (an ardent dog lover who feeds about fifteen stray dogs each day). They welcome the principal by wagging their tails vigorously and letting out short yelps of joy. After that it is eating time for them but here too few unspoken rules are to be followed. Just when the driver starts serving the food into their bowls, Chikku Nayi is nudged by the other two dogs to go under one of the buses and wait for his turn….which he does, a little reluctantly. If he shows even a little resistance, the other two nip him here and there and he is forced to obey them. Hot, fresh and nutritious food is first served to Blackie (also known by the name of Charcoal). After he has his fill, it is Brownie’s turn. He is the senior most, hence quite bossy. Then it is Chikku Nayi’s turn, he wriggles out of his refuge, sticking out his long, pink, saliva dripping tongue to lap up all the goodies offered to him. After this satisfying meal, all the three dogs look for a nice and cozy place for their siesta. They protect each other, care for each other, respect each other and play with each other. Their camaraderie is really amazing! How beautifully and peacefully they co-exist with each other. We humans have a lot to learn from this animal world. During childhood, we often hear of cats and dogs being born enemies. In one of my relative’s house— two cats and two dogs live happily together. I have heard of dogs adopting kittens…. giving them all the love, attention and care and bringing them up as their own offspring. Even the wild animals don’t attack or kill their prey if they don’t feel threatened or if they are not hungry. Whereas, there is so much chaos and unrest in the world of us humans today. Children are being conditioned to grow up into individuals with no compassion, kindness, empathy, love or respect for others. In most of the schools Moral Science lessons have been scrapped. Sometime back I came across a story written by Dorothy Victor which goes this way— The once-a-month exercise in creative writing for the sixth graders was in progress. As the young students were penning their composition, an argument in hushed tones was building up from the south-west corner of the class where the twin sisters Tina and Rina sat. Our class teacher, Mrs. Roselyn, walked to the sisters and enquired what was going on. In her characteristic gentle yet stern manner, she resolved the issue. The next day was a bright Wednesday, and classes began with the usual Moral Science period. That day Mrs. Roselyn chose to take us out to the garden of the sprawling campus of our convent for the class. The change of scenario got us enthusiastic about the class. Shortly our teacher began the period which covered the teaching of Moral Science to the young minds. “What you see is the beauty of God’s creation around us, look around, the shrubs and the trees; the buzzing bees and the color changing chameleons; the birds and the insects,” she went on pointing to a colorful butterfly that darted just then from the row of marigolds in a flower bed at the corner of the field. “All this beauty is for all of us; the good and the naughty, the studious and the lazy, the talkative and the quiet. God does not distinguish among us. He opens his goodness to all. It is important then that we, who enjoy his goodness, in turn become instruments of goodness. And becoming instruments of goodness means that we learn to share freely, forgive generously, and care warmly for all around us , including the planet we live in,” so saying, she continued with the class stressing on how we ought to choose goodness over everything else in the world. We listened with rapt attention to the values that were being emphasized effectively by drawing inspiration from the natural and glorious setting of the school garden. Later in the day, the grapevine had it that the twin sisters who had fought over sharing their stationery vowed to share their belongings with each other in the future. As for me, the words of Mrs. Roselyn would echo in my ears for the rest of my school days and urge me to believe in goodness over anything else. So, after going through this simple story we realize how imperative it is to reintroduce Moral Science lessons in schools. Our divine Master, Prajnanpurush Sri Sri Babathakur, in His book “Nectar of Wisdom” reaffirms, ‘In the present age people have human form but not human nature. Had they had a true human nature, events would have been shaped differently, for a true human nature will never allow such debauchery and chaos as we experience them now through hatred and violence, greed and jealousy. There are men having human form with the true human nature, but they are few…. In most people, the inner nature is not truly human. Mankind must again follow the evolutionary process to discover the true human nature. Without going through this process, no beneficial evolution can take place…. and that is why people suffer.” Sri Sri Babathakur further points out that temples often represent but the outer show, not the true religion, as true religion should uplift the standard of the spirit, the ethical and moral senses along with the development of true discrimination between the Real and the unreal. He said, ‘The way it goes now, at present, is not good at all because the Right Knowledge is not taught during the time of the primary education. Nescience or spiritual ignorance prevails, but I assure you that a time will come when the mind will get fed-up with itself and it will then cry for help. That time will come, when the `Science of Oneness` and the `Oneness of Science` will be truly followed for the well-being of all.’ What powerful words! What assurance! It fills up each and every cell of my body with new energy, vigor and a fountain of hope! O Lord! Just let me be at your lotus feet for ever. |
| . She detested almost everything in the country, and I guess she needed to find something to like in Kolkata. I was that person Our quiet and reserved neighbours in Kolkata, the Thorntons, New Zealanders who referred to themselves as Kiwi people, had just moved out. ¹My father said his next colleague, an American, would move in shortly with his family. Ten days later I was struggling with my high school homework when the doorbell rang. A pleasant-faced but brusque-mannered woman in her 30s asked if I understood English and, when I nodded, wanted to speak with my mother. I explained, in English, that my mother worked and was never home during the day. Surprised that an Indian housewife worked outside her home and an Indian boy spoke English, she asked for a favour. If I could please come and explain something to her two domestic employees that she hadn’t been able to convey. Both the employees, a cleaner and a cook, said they understood the Thorntons’ English but were befuddled by her American accent. I explained the instructions in both Hindi and English, and then suggested to Edna, who had meanwhile told me her name, that she needed to speak to them slowly and perhaps with a clipped accent. She appreciated my help, but felt that, as a true New Yorker, she would have a tough time altering her speaking style. Then, in a friendly gesture, she offered me a glass of Coca-Cola and watched wide-eyed as I drank it unhesitatingly. When she asked, I explained that, though I had never seen Coca-Cola, let alone drink it, I had seen its ad in every issue of the Life magazine and trusted it to be a pleasant drink. Then she said she would like to teach me a game that she loved but hadn’t been able to play in Kolkata, not knowing who knew English well enough. The game was Scrabble. She warned me that she was a skilled player, and I shouldn’t mind losing a duel with her. “You will get better as you play with me,” she added encouragingly. We started. She was a little amazed that I used words she hadn’t expected me to know and one time had to consult a dictionary when I applied a longer word she didn’t know. Edna didn’t know that words and their structure interested me, and she was struck dumb when I won the match. She now took a second look at me, I felt. In some way, I had somewhat grown in height and she now looked on me as an equal. And as a possible friend. She needed a friend. She said that her husband, with his soft-spoken style and self-effacing demeanor, had become quickly popular in India, but she hadn’t a person to talk to. Frankly, she said, she disliked spicy Indian food, impenetrable Indian languages, messy Indian clothes, noisy Indian cities and the smelly Indians she had so far encountered. They seemed shifty and unreliable to her. I somehow appeared to her somewhat different. She detested almost everything in India, and I guess she needed to find something to like in Kolkata. I was that person. We became friends. In the ensuing months she called me often. She needed my help to understand other people, doctors or servants, to explain her intent to other people, dress or furniture makers, to guide her about mangoes and markets, taxis and textiles. I met and liked her husband, Desmond, and saw immediately why he would be easily adaptable to Indian people and their ways. For Edna, Kolkata, in fact anything Indian, remained an enduring and execrable enigma. None of my interpretations or explanations worked. She loathed it all. Our friendship ended when my parents moved out to another home in a different part of the city. Thirty years later, I was working in the World Bank in the US and talking to a New Yorker colleague who had been in India. He mentioned Desmond, saying that he had died and his wife had settled in a town near Washington. He gave me Edna’s phone number. When I called her Friday, Edna recognised me in a second and warmly insisted that we talk face-to-face. She suggested that I come over to her place after office, stay the night and return the following morning. She said she would get me the pyjamas and a toothbrush. Such insistence was not customary in the US, but it sounded affectionate and well-meant and I agreed. I took the hour-long bus trip and, as we approached the bus terminal, wondered how I would identify her after all these years. But I was the only non-white person in the bus in formal clothes, and Edna came forward in a second and hugged me. When we arrived at her place, I had a shock. It could have been an Indian home. Every piece of furniture, every artifact, even every curtain or cushion was Indian. The rug on the floor was Indian, so were the framed pictures on the wall of the Red Fort and Dal Lake and an antique colonial-era map of India. She served me Makaibari tea with some pakoras, and, when I offered to take her out for dinner, countermanded it promptly by saying that she has already cooked Basmati rice and chicken butter-masala for me. I was speechless for minutes. When I recovered my tongue, I made bold to ask what had happened to change her view, since, the last I knew, she detested much of India – “with passion,” she added. What she then told me was a remarkable tale. It was not literature, philosophy or culture that turned her mind around. It was simply the ordinary people of India, the street folk and bazaar vendors and domestic employees who altered her perspective. “I began with endless distrust,” said Edna, “I assumed they were out to cheat me and take advantage of a naïve foreigner. Day by day the exact opposite happened. I would buy bananas, and the poor vendor would choose the best for me, return the excessive amount I had paid. The cleaner would find and give me the cash I had carelessly dropped in the kitchen. The cook gave me and my husband the best pieces of meat, to keep only the bones for himself. Day by day, they taught me a lesson I couldn’t overlook. “Every time I went out, a fruit seller would pester me to buy his stuff. I refused, for I wanted to buy from the market next door where I would have more choice. One day, out on the street, the heel of my shoe came off. I didn’t know how to walk back home. The fruit seller came running, made me sit on his empty fruit basket, left with the broken shoe and came back in ten minutes with it repaired, put it on my foot and would not take a cent. I insisted, he refused. I doubt anybody would have done that for me in New York.” Edna smiled, “Yes, I hated India with passion. And India took revenge. It just made me into an Indian.” Beautiful. Its the people not the policies that shape z country. |
| A farmer had some puppies he needed to sell. He painted a sign advertising the 4 pups and set about nailing it to a post on the edge of his yard. As he was driving the last nail into the post, he felt a tug on his overalls. He looked down into the eyes of a little boy. "Mister," he said, "I want to buy one of your puppies." "Well," said the farmer, as he rubbed the sweat off the back of his neck, "These puppies come from fine parents and cost a good deal of money." The boy dropped his head for a moment. Then reaching deep into his pocket, he pulled out a handful of change and held it up to the farmer. "I've got thirty-nine cents. Is that enough to take a look?" "Sure," said the farmer. And with that he let out a whistle. "Here, Dolly!" he called. Out from the doghouse and down the ramp ran Dolly followed by four little balls of fur. The little boy pressed his face against the chain link fence. His eyes danced with delight. As the dogs made their way to the fence,the little boy noticed something else stirring inside the doghouse. Slowly another little ball appeared, this one noticeably smaller. Down the ramp it slid. Then in a somewhat awkward manner, the little pup began hobbling toward the others, doing its best to catch up... "I want that one," the little boy said, pointing to the runt. The farmer knelt down at the boy's side and said, "Son, you don't want that puppy. He will never be able to run and play with you like these other dogs would." With that the little boy stepped back from the fence, reached down, and began rolling up one leg of his trousers. In doing so he revealed a steel brace running down both sides of his leg attaching itself to a specially made shoe. Looking back up at the farmer, he said, "You see sir, I don't run too well myself, and he will need someone who understands." With tears in his eyes, the farmer reached down and picked up the little pup. Holding it carefully he handed it to the little boy.. "How much?" asked the little boy... "No charge," answered the farmer, "There's no charge for love." The world is full of people who need someone who understands... |
The French Catholic monk Swami Abhishiktananda, the time he spent at Arunachala - leading to a deep enlightenment experience towards the end of his life. He had darshan of Bhagavan in 1949, and in the early 1950s, he came back to Arunachala to spend time meditating in its caves. An account of his meeting with Bhagavan (who made a huge and very positive impression on him) and the months he spent meditating in the caves of Arunachala can be found in his book ‘The Secret of Arunachala’ which was published in the late 1970s, a few years after its author had passed away. Before coming to India Swami Abhishiktananda had spent more than twenty years as a Benedictine monk in a French monastery, where he was known as Father Henri le Saux. After some time in India, he adopted the robes and lifestyle of a Hindu sannyasi and called himself ‘Swami Abhishiktananda’. Despite the change of outfit and name, for many years he clung tenaciously to the basic tenets of the Catholic faith that he had been brought up in, feeling that the highest Christian experience and teachings were superior to their Hindu counterparts. In 1973 he had a heart attack on the streets of Rishikesh that left him unconscious and temporarily paralyzed. When he finally recovered his faculties, he instantly became aware that the Abhishiktananda who had held tightly to Catholic doctrine throughout his life had vanished, leaving just an impersonal experience of the underlying ‘I am’. This is how he wrote about it in letters to friends: ‘Who can bear the glory of transfiguration, of man's dying as transfigured; because what Christ is I AM! One can only speak of it after being awoken from the dead … . ‘It was a remarkable spiritual experience … While I was waiting on my sidewalk, on the frontier of the two worlds, I was magnificently calm, for I AM, no matter what in the world! I have found the GRAIL!’ (‘Swami Abhishiktananda’, by James Stuart, ISPCK, 1989, p. 346) The finding of the grail was inextricably linked to losing all the previous concepts he had had about Christ and the Church. Commenting on this experience in the same book, he wrote: ‘So long as we have not accepted the loss of all concepts, all myths – of Christ, of the Church – nothing can be done.’ From this new experiential standpoint, he was able to say, from direct experience, that it was the ‘I’, rather than a collection of sectarian teachings and beliefs, that gave reality to God: ‘I really believe that the revelation of AHAM [“I”] is perhaps the central point of the Upanishads. And that is what give access to everything; the “knowing” which reveals all “knowing”. God is not known, Jesus is not known, nothing is known outside this terribly solid AHAM that I am. From that alone all true teaching gets its value.’(‘Swami Abhishiktananda’, by James Stuart, ISPCK, 1989, p. 358) In addition to writing several books that attempted to bridge the gap between Hinduism and Christianity, Abhishiktananda had been a regular contributor to seminars and conferences on the future development of Indian Christianity. After his great experience, he received an invitation to attend a Muslim gathering in France to give a Christian point of view. In declining the invitation, he revealed how all his old ideas had been swept away, and how he no longer felt able to expound a specifically Christian viewpoint: ‘The more I go [on], the less able I would be to present Christ in a way which would still be considered as Christian … For Christ is first an idea which comes to me from outside. Even more after my “beyond life/death experience” of 14.7 [.73] I can only aim at awakening people to what “they are”. Anything about God or the Word in any religion, which is not based on the deep “I” experience, is bound to be simple “notion”, not existential. ‘I am interested in no Christology at all. I have so little interest in a Word of God which will awaken man within history … The Word of God comes from/to my own “present”; it is that very awakening which is my self-awareness. What I discover above all in Christ is his “I AM” … it is that I AM experience which really matters. Christ Is the very mystery “That I AM”, and in the experience and existential knowledge all Christology has disintegrated.’ (‘Swami Abhishiktananda’, by James Stuart, ISPCK, 1989, pp. 348-9) Then, confirming that a lifetime’s convictions had been dropped, he went on to explain that the final Christian experience of ‘I am’ could not differ from its Hindu equivalent: ‘What would be the meaning of a “Christianity-coloured” awakening? In the process of awakening all this coloration cannot but disappear … The coloration might vary according to the audience, but the essential goes beyond. The discovery of Christ’s I AM is the ruin of any Christian theology, for all notions are burned within the fire of experience … I feel too much, more and more, the blazing fire of this I AM in which all notions about Christ's personality, ontology, history, etc. have disappeared.’ (‘Swami Abhishiktananda’, by James Stuart, ISPCK, 1989, p. 349) After a lifetime of meditation and research he had finally conceded that no explanation or experience could impinge on the fundamental reality, ‘I am’. Years before he had predicted that this standpoint would be the inevitable consequence of a full experience of ‘I am’: ‘Doctrines, laws, and rituals are only of value as signposts, which point the way to what is beyond them. One day in the depths of his spirit man cannot fail to hear the sound of the I am uttered by He-who-is. He will behold the shining of the Light whose only source is itself, is himself, is the unique Self … What place is then left for ideas, obligations or acts of worship of any kind whatever?’ (‘Saccidananda’ by Abhishiktananda, ISPCK, 1974, p. 46) ‘When the Self shines forth, the “I” that has dared to approach can no longer recognize its own self or preserve its own identity in the midst of that blinding light. It has, so to speak, vanished from its own sight. Who is left to be in the presence of Being itself. The claim of Being is absolute … All the later developments of the [Jewish] religion - doctrine, laws and worship – are simply met by the advaitin with the words originally revealed to Moses on Mount Horeb, “I am that I am”.’ |
He grinned when he saw his daughter, and her husband as he walked into the house. The old man, was on one of his rare visits to his daughter and son- in-law. He met them in the Diwali vacation. This was needed to comfort the old man from loneliness after his wife’s demise seven months ago. After dinner that evening, he whispered to his son-in-law that if they didn’t mind, he would love to have a quick word with the couple after the children had gone to bed. By 9pm, the couple was back in the living room to hear what the old man had to say. He started by asking them a simple question. “What is the most important thing in your life beti? She replied, “Daddy, it is the kids !!! They mean everything to me”.. He then turned and asked his son-in-law the same question, he also (beaming with pride) said : "it is the kids of course; they are the reason why I work so hard to ensure they have a better life” "Well said my children. I don’t mean to intrude on how to run your family life, but I believe there is a fundamental error you will need to correct. He said “ I have observed how much you both love your kids and dedicate all your time for them...... I have observed that almost all your conversation borders mostly on the kids." The couple nodded in admission to the assertion. He continued, "I am a poultry farmer, and the biggest egg supplier in my district. I make my money by the quantity of eggs sold. That said, my priority has always been providing optimal care for the chicken. Because, I know that when the chicken are healthy and productive, the eggs will automatically be bountiful. *If I start to ignore the chicken, the eggs will also suffer*." He pointed to his son-in-law and said, “as a husband, the most important person in your life should be your wife and vice versa. It cannot be the kids. They are just products of the marriage. *If you learn to take care of each other very well, your kids will grow up healthy, happy and well-adjusted, but if you ignore each other, brace yourself up for dysfunctional kids in the future*. The two of you are the foundation of this family. If you suffer any crack, the whole house will go down. So please make time for yourself and treat each other as *PRIORITY* and the kids will be just fine. This has been the secret of the fruitful union between your Mother and Myself for over 50 years till death took her from me. The old man's eyes welled up with tears at this stage. He thanked the couple for their time and excused himself to his room. If care is not taken, this magical connection gets weakened, thereby opening up a marriage to all sorts of strange elements and even divorce. Let kids observe that your spouse means the world to you and if you are to choose between them and your spouse, it will always be your spouse. Give the kids the love and attention they deserve but not at the cost of neglecting each other. It is your marriage that will sustain your kids, not vice versa. The kids are just the bonus. *_Talking Helps... Talking Heals_* |
It's a known fact in history, that in September of 1965 when Pakistan was on the verge of victory in Kashmir with the Chamb offensive, a three pronged attack on Jammu Akhnoor and Pathankot to cut off Kashmir from the rest of India; one man stood up... Lt Gen Harbaksh Singh, the Western Army Commander. The towering Khalsa, took upon himself to break the defensive mindset, and went on the offensive... thus, for the second time in history after the Khalsa offensive by the legendary Sardar Hari Singh Nalwa against the Pathans in 19th century; the Indian Army went on the offensive... Lahore was attacked. Since early days, Harbaksh was destined to always save India out of trouble. 13 Years of combat experience with his parent unit 5 SIKH, fighting the Japanese in WWII, Harbaksh had seen it all from capturing posts, to being ambushed, injured and taken as Prisoner of War. By 1947 Harbaksh a senior Military officer and brilliant battle hardened soldier had just completed Staff College at quetta and was ready to take on the higher echelons of the military. As a full Colonel, he was the Deputy Commander of the famous 161 Infantry Brigade in Uri in 1947. He had volunteered to command a unit in battle but was denied as he was a full Colonel (units were commanded by Lt Cols). During the offensive by 1 SIKH the CO Lt Col Dewan Ranjit Rai got Killed in Action, Harbaksh Singh again volunteered and this time removed a star from his shoulders (for the first time in history an officer demoted himself to lead his men in battle). The battered battalion regrouped and fought like lions under Harbaksh to reclaim Farkian Gali and drove out Pakistanis from the valley. Harbaksh Singh was promoted as Brigadier in 1948. As the Commander of 163 Infantry brigade Harbaksh again conducted daring operations in Tithwal and captured Tithwal. He at the rank of Brigadier, was awarded Veer Chakra, the third highest gallantry award of India._ In September 1965, the Indian Army went on the offensive with Jalandhar based 11 Corps launched all of its infantry divisions (7th Inf Div, 15th Inf Div and 4th Inf Div) launched towards Lahore and Army HQ Reserve 1 Strike Corps with the elite 1 Armoured Division launched further North Towards Sialkot to not only thwart the Pakistani Juggernaut but also to crush Pakistan feeling of supremacy and regain the pride of the Indian Army licking its wounds from 62 China debacle. Bitter battles followed with both sides fighting even for an inch of land. The Indian Armoured Corps came into its own with destruction of Pakistani counterparts despite having inferior Sherman tanks as compared to the modren Patton Tanks of Pakistan. Legends were created on the battle field with units like 17 Poona Horse, 4 Horse, 3 Cavalry writing history in blood and gold. The infantryman went beyond the call of duty and beyond imagination to fight with tanks, the likes of Abdul Hamid showed the true colour of the sons of the soil. India regained its pride as not only Pakistani offensives were crushed, but Indians were now ready to capture Lahore. Pakistan however launched another offensive this time towards south Punjab in Ferozpore sector. In Hussainiwala, Pakistan cracked up Indian defences and a crisis developed. The Army Chief Gen JN Choudhary ordered 11 Corps, which was in offensive to withdraw and take defensive positions. Lt Gen Harbaksh Singh Western Army Commander refused, defied the Army Chief and instead ordered GOC 11 Corps to attack, thereby saving Punjab and India from a certain defeat. Meanwhile in Kashmir, during the progress of operations history was in the making. The Operation Gibralter combined with the Pakistani offensive in Jammu, initially had succeeded due to the surprise and speed. It was a precarious situation as Poonch was threatened. The only possible way to recapture territory and save poonch was to go behind the enemy lines and destroy his flanks. Pakistanis knew India would loose Kashmir if the old road to valley from Poonch was lost. Doom prevailed on the horizon of the future of an integrated India. At this time a miracle happened. It is often said that the outlaws create history, same thing happened when Maj Megh Singh of the 3RD BATTALION BRIGADE OF THE GUARDS, a superseded officer who had been denied promotion, volunteered to the Western Army Commander to carry out commando raids behind the enemy lines. A preposterous idea given the time and situation and with no resources at hand. India had no commando units. Nor were there any plans to raise any. Gen Harbaksh listened patiently, and asked Megh Singh, "Son if you succeed in this, I will put that star on your shoulder with my own hands." And without the govt's approval, Harbaksh gave a nod to raise this force. Maj Megh Singh organised a force of volunteer dare devils personally chosen by him, A few Good Men. This force, known as the MEGHDOOT FORCE' after Megh Singh, the forgotten men not even recognised by the govt of the day, formed the nucleus of the first special forces unit in India. Thus was born the elite 9 PARA COMMANDO or the 9th BATTALION THE PARACHUTE REGIMENT SPECIAL FORCES. Maj Megh Singh proved his mettle and carried out not one but three of the most outstanding and daring raids and link ups ever in history of warfare. His raids took Pakistanis completely off the guard as nothing this spectacular was ever expected by them from the Indians. Today Poonch stands with India courtesy Megh Singh. Maj Megh Singh the outlawed man facing court martial charges before the raids, came back home with a bullet in his thigh and was pipped Lt Col by Gen Harbaksh Singh himself and became the first CO of 9 PARA. By the time ceasefire was declared on 23 Sep 65, the Indian army had not only recovered from the initial losses, but instead captured large chunks of vital Pakistani territory in North Punjab. War as a whole was a stalemate but the Indian army was able to thwart the Pakistani intentions of capturing Kashmir with force, their Operation Gibralter proved to be an utter failure.Truly Harbaksh was the saviour of Kashmir, Punjab and that of the honour of India. For saving India, Lt Gen Harbaksh Singh was awarded with Padma Vibhushan and Padma Bhushan both the second and the third highest honours in the country. For inconspicuous bravery in the face of the enemy and outstanding leadership under fire Lt Col Megh Singh was awarded with Vir Chakra. Today the Indian Parachute Regiment and Special Forces are considered amongst the best in the world including the British SAS, US Special Forces, Navy SEALs and Israeli Sayeret Matkal and Flotila 13. Few outlaws, few good men started a tradition of valour and sacrifice. The saga continues till date with Parachute Regiment being the most decorated regiment in the world despite it being only raised in WWII and despite it competing amongst the best of the best who have been there for centuries. The Maroon Berets are truly a different breed, and it all started with one man who said, "Who dares wins". This post is dedicated to Lt Gen Harbaksh Singh Padma Vibhushan, VrC, Padma Bhushan GOC-in-C Western Command 1965 and Lt Col Megh Singh Rathore VrC CO 9 PARA CDO BN..... True legends. The idea is to highlight a military personality, I deliberately combined two personalities, to negate the efforts of giving it a religious colour by certain kind of people who might portray Gen Harbaksh's prowess as something related to his religious believes, which certainly is not the case. This post is not a "Sikh praise post. It is a post on two brilliant military commanders. A man's ability has nothingf to do with religion. and this post is equally for Lt Col Megh Singh Rathore and I want it to be that way if anyone shares this post. 🇮🇳JAI HIND🇮🇳 Honour in Uniform! Credit for the article at the end as I do not want to edit even a comma of the original. A military History now - The Birth of the Para Commandos. It's a known fact in history, that in September of 1965 when Pakistan was on the verge of victory in Kashmir with the Chamb offensive, a three pronged attack on Jammu Akhnoor and Pathankot to cut off Kashmir from the rest of India; one man stood up... Lt Gen Harbaksh Singh, the Western Army Commander. The towering Khalsa, took upon himself to break the defensive mindset, and went on the offensive... thus, for the second time in history after the Khalsa offensive by the legendary Sardar Hari Singh Nalwa against the Pathans in 19th century; the Indian Army went on the offensive... Lahore was attacked. Since early days, Harbaksh was destined to always save India out of trouble. 13 Years of combat experience with his parent unit 5 SIKH, fighting the Japanese in WWII, Harbaksh had seen it all from capturing posts, to being ambushed, injured and taken as Prisoner of War. By 1947 Harbaksh a senior Military officer and brilliant battle hardened soldier had just completed Staff College at quetta and was ready to take on the higher echelons of the military. As a full Colonel, he was the Deputy Commander of the famous 161 Infantry Brigade in Uri in 1947. He had volunteered to command a unit in battle but was denied as he was a full Colonel (units were commanded by Lt Cols). During the offensive by 1 SIKH the CO Lt Col Dewan Ranjit Rai got Killed in Action, Harbaksh Singh again volunteered and this time removed a star from his shoulders (for the first time in history an officer demoted himself to lead his men in battle). The battered battalion regrouped and fought like lions under Harbaksh to reclaim Farkian Gali and drove out Pakistanis from the valley. Harbaksh Singh was promoted as Brigadier in 1948. As the Commander of 163 Infantry brigade Harbaksh again conducted daring operations in Tithwal and captured Tithwal. He at the rank of Brigadier, was awarded Veer Chakra, the third highest gallantry award of India._ In September 1965, the Indian Army went on the offensive with Jalandhar based 11 Corps launched all of its infantry divisions (7th Inf Div, 15th Inf Div and 4th Inf Div) launched towards Lahore and Army HQ Reserve 1 Strike Corps with the elite 1 Armoured Division launched further North Towards Sialkot to not only thwart the Pakistani Juggernaut but also to crush Pakistan feeling of supremacy and regain the pride of the Indian Army licking its wounds from 62 China debacle. Bitter battles followed with both sides fighting even for an inch of land. The Indian Armoured Corps came into its own with destruction of Pakistani counterparts despite having inferior Sherman tanks as compared to the modren Patton Tanks of Pakistan. Legends were created on the battle field with units like 17 Poona Horse, 4 Horse, 3 Cavalry writing history in blood and gold. The infantryman went beyond the call of duty and beyond imagination to fight with tanks, the likes of Abdul Hamid showed the true colour of the sons of the soil. India regained its pride as not only Pakistani offensives were crushed, but Indians were now ready to capture Lahore. Pakistan however launched another offensive this time towards south Punjab in Ferozpore sector. In Hussainiwala, Pakistan cracked up Indian defences and a crisis developed. The Army Chief Gen JN Choudhary ordered 11 Corps, which was in offensive to withdraw and take defensive positions. Lt Gen Harbaksh Singh Western Army Commander refused, defied the Army Chief and instead ordered GOC 11 Corps to attack, thereby saving Punjab and India from a certain defeat. Meanwhile in Kashmir, during the progress of operations history was in the making. The Operation Gibralter combined with the Pakistani offensive in Jammu, initially had succeeded due to the surprise and speed. It was a precarious situation as Poonch was threatened. The only possible way to recapture territory and save poonch was to go behind the enemy lines and destroy his flanks. Pakistanis knew India would loose Kashmir if the old road to valley from Poonch was lost. Doom prevailed on the horizon of the future of an integrated India. At this time a miracle happened. It is often said that the outlaws create history, same thing happened when Maj Megh Singh of the 3RD BATTALION BRIGADE OF THE GUARDS, a superseded officer who had been denied promotion, volunteered to the Western Army Commander to carry out commando raids behind the enemy lines. A preposterous idea given the time and situation and with no resources at hand. India had no commando units. Nor were there any plans to raise any. Gen Harbaksh listened patiently, and asked Megh Singh, "Son if you succeed in this, I will put that star on your shoulder with my own hands." And without the govt's approval, Harbaksh gave a nod to raise this force. Maj Megh Singh organised a force of volunteer dare devils personally chosen by him, A few Good Men. This force, known as the MEGHDOOT FORCE' after Megh Singh, the forgotten men not even recognised by the govt of the day, formed the nucleus of the first special forces unit in India. Thus was born the elite 9 PARA COMMANDO or the 9th BATTALION THE PARACHUTE REGIMENT SPECIAL FORCES. Maj Megh Singh proved his mettle and carried out not one but three of the most outstanding and daring raids and link ups ever in history of warfare. His raids took Pakistanis completely off the guard as nothing this spectacular was ever expected by them from the Indians. Today Poonch stands with India courtesy Megh Singh. Maj Megh Singh the outlawed man facing court martial charges before the raids, came back home with a bullet in his thigh and was pipped Lt Col by Gen Harbaksh Singh himself and became the first CO of 9 PARA. By the time ceasefire was declared on 23 Sep 65, the Indian army had not only recovered from the initial losses, but instead captured large chunks of vital Pakistani territory in North Punjab. War as a whole was a stalemate but the Indian army was able to thwart the Pakistani intentions of capturing Kashmir with force, their Operation Gibralter proved to be an utter failure.Truly Harbaksh was the saviour of Kashmir, Punjab and that of the honour of India. For saving India, Lt Gen Harbaksh Singh was awarded with Padma Vibhushan and Padma Bhushan both the second and the third highest honours in the country. For inconspicuous bravery in the face of the enemy and outstanding leadership under fire Lt Col Megh Singh was awarded with Vir Chakra. Today the Indian Parachute Regiment and Special Forces are considered amongst the best in the world including the British SAS, US Special Forces, Navy SEALs and Israeli Sayeret Matkal and Flotila 13. Few outlaws, few good men started a tradition of valour and sacrifice. The saga continues till date with Parachute Regiment being the most decorated regiment in the world despite it being only raised in WWII and despite it competing amongst the best of the best who have been there for centuries. The Maroon Berets are truly a different breed, and it all started with one man who said, "Who dares wins". This post is dedicated to Lt Gen Harbaksh Singh Padma Vibhushan, VrC, Padma Bhushan GOC-in-C Western Command 1965 and Lt Col Megh Singh Rathore VrC CO 9 PARA CDO BN..... True legends. The idea is to highlight a military personality, I deliberately combined two personalities, to negate the efforts of giving it a religious colour by certain kind of people who might portray Gen Harbaksh's prowess as something related to his religious believes, which certainly is not the case. This post is not a "Sikh praise post. It is a post on two brilliant military commanders. A man's ability has nothing to do with religion. and this post is equally for Lt Col Megh Singh Rathore and I want it to be that way if anyone shares this post. |
| Why do I have a variety of friends who are all so different in character? How is it possible that I can get along with them all? I think that each one helps to bring out a "different" part of me. With one of them I am polite. With another I joke. With another I can be a bit naughty. I can sit down and talk about serious matters with one, be on the same wavelength with another. With another I laugh a lot. I listen to one friend's problems. Then I listen to another one's advice for me. My friends are like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. When completed, they form a treasure box. A treasure of friends! They are my friends who understand me better than I understand myself. They're friends who support me through good days and bad. Real Age doctors tell us that friends are good for our health. Dr. Oz calls them Vitamin F (for Friends) and counts the benefits of friends as essential to our well being. Research shows that people in strong social circles have less risk of depression and terminal strokes. If you enjoy Vitamin F constantly you can be up to 30 years younger than your real age. The warmth of friendship stops stress and even in your most intense moments, it decreases the chance of a cardiac arrest or stroke by 50%. I'm so happy that I have a stock of Vitamin F (Friendship)! In summary, we should value our friends and keep in touch with them. We should try to see the funny side of things and laugh together and pray for each other in the tough moments. I know I am part of their lives because their names appear on my mobile screen every day and I feel blessed that they care as much for me as I care for them. Thank you for being my Vitamin F !!!🥰🤲🏼🙏🏼 I value and treasure my Friends. |
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