ONCE UPON A TIME

The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow’r,

All that beauty, all that wealth e’er gave

Awaits alike th’ inevitable hour.

The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

                                         - Thomas Gray

Once upon a time in Wonderland, there lived a king. He appeared gentle in his demeanour. But it was his whiskers thick and dark that concealed his venomous fangs. He was as soft spoken as the hiss of a Russell’s viper and as smooth as a rattle snake. He never laughed heartily for fear of baring his fangs. And he had no friends because he never laughed. He had a hundred thousand strong cavalry at his command, ready to do his bidding.

The King, being the monarch of all that he surveyed, had the world at his doorstep. He lived in a huge castle and if you could take on several alligators in the moat surrounding the castle and go past ferocious lions guarding his entrance and may be convince two very agreeable gentlemen with swords outside his chamber, you might reach him.

He rode any one of his five golden chariots and lived blissfully ignorant of the inanities of a routine statecraft.  The nitty-gritty was boring and the hoard of loyal and honest workers insipid. But he was ambitious. He hated anyone giving him sound advice. For he had appointed a few handpicked advisers who were as keen and sharp as only to give him that advice which they knew he was seeking affirmation for. And he was ambitious. He wanted to subjugate all his rivals and would with great ambition survey around to see that he was standing tall amidst the ruins.

He wanted to perpetuate his reign. And he wanted to erase all the memories of the previous rulers and crush any threats to his throne and he wanted his era to be remembered for ever. So he called his handpicked advisers to give him the right as advice. The advisers arrived forthwith as they always waited at his gate to be called in. The king glanced at his advisers, liveried and resplendent, in their shining armour.

And thus spake the King: “Hear ye all my worthy advisers. I have summoned you for you are my chosen cronies and will do anything to appease me. I am proud that I am unaware of the ground realities. And on the strength of my ignorance, I want to bring about all-round changes in the governance of my kingdom. I have already thrown out the rule book in the moat outside and have archived many time honoured practices.  I make my own rules and write my own history. As the first step to achieving the unbridled power, I want to incapacitate all of my chieftains so the world looks only up to me as the sole savior. I want to silence the voices of dissent. And I want to be loved and remembered by my subjects as a kindhearted, benevolent, fair and just king.”

The worthy advisers watched in awe as the king spoke and admired the vision and foresight of their master.

So the worthy advisers promptly retreated and huddled in the darkness of the night, deliberated amongst themselves in whispers. They deliberated for two days and returned with a plan. Only the noble king or his worthy advisers, in the name of the king shall issue all the commands. All the powers shall be centralized. Favours and rewards shall be bestowed only on the chosen ones.

The king heard his advisers with admiration and pride. ‘How fortunate I am’ said the king ‘to have chosen you to share my vision!’ Thereafter the king walked the earth as if he owned it forever. He felt taller by a few inches and his gaze turned to steel. The implementation had to be firm and unfaltering.

Seasons came and went. The winter turned in to summer and the summer in to rainy season.

The resolve of the king had a miraculous impact on his large flock of chieftains. They withdrew in to silence. They became increasingly ineffective. They stopped doing anything on their own initiative and waited for directions even in their designated fields. And the leaders of his cavalry meekly surrendered their powers to the whims of the king. Upright chieftains were in a perpetual fear of being hounded out. The king and his worthy advisers kept a close watch on everything happening around. And now all the voices of dissent having been effectively gagged, the king began to create an order of suspicion and distrust and intrigue.

As I told you, seasons came and went. The winter of despair came again-cold and stark. As the winter started to recede and summer winds set in, there was a strange quiet of expectancy. This was the time when snows began to melt, green began to turn gray and no birds sang. Spring was one season that was missing in the kingdom and with that all signs of hope, growth and new life. The spring was far behind.

Then the gentle breeze began to grow stronger. The winds of change began to sweep the length and breadth of Wonderland. All good things must come to an end, a wise adviser mused. The king looked at the mirror. ‘How horrible am I looking!’ He broke in to a cold sweat. He rolled his trembling fingers on to his whiskers only to find that his fangs had blunted, his hitherto glowing skin withered and his roar turned into a whimper. He panicked. ‘Time is running out for me!’ He suddenly missed a friend. But he didn’t have one for he never laughed.

He urgently wanted to consult his ever faithful advisors. He sent for them and waited impatiently. He jumped from his throne and started pacing up and down. He waited.

He looked out of the window. It was all still and silent in the immediate surroundings, though a fierce storm was beginning to blow in the distance. The ferocious lions had broken lose and appeared to have bolted to their natural abode in the jungle. The two very agreeable gentlemen with swords were nowhere in sight. The king panicked even further but waited. An inexplicable fear gripped him.

Far in the courtyard his golden chariots were missing.

The sun shone brightly in the middle of the sky and he waited. The evening shadows started lengthening and he waited. An eerie silence descended upon his castle. He waited and waited till he dropped to the floor disappointed, heartbroken and lonely. He longingly looked at the throne which he always thought was his forever. He soon fell into a deep but disturbed slumber, exhausted and tired.

And I watched it all happen with my eyes wide open until the strain hurt my eyes. I was overwhelmed. I must immortalize the unique life and times of our beloved king and his eternal wait for his advisers to turn up.

And then I dipped my feather pen in the ink-pot, drained the extra ink on the side and with tears in my eyes began to write…

Once upon a time in wonderland, there lived a king…

  

Thomas Gray

COMETH THE MAN

IN the 1948 England vs South Africa test series, in the first test at Kingsmead, Durban, England needed eight runs off the last eight-ball over, with nos.9 and 10 at the crease. In fading light and on a drying wicket that was giving the bowlers every assistance, England got home after a leg-bye was scored off the last ball of the game, when the ball struck the no.10, Cliff Gladwin, on the thigh and a single was scrambled. The Derbyshire bowler is remembered mostly for this batting feat and his immortal words: "Coometh the hour, coometh the man." As to whether he created the phrase or had heard it before - that is anyone's guess.

How is the urgent danger staved off by the arrival of just the right man at just the right time? Happy accident or the hand of fate?

It was a cold morning in late November when I along with five of my colleagues was trekking up to the Rohtang Pass situated at an elevation of 3,978 m (13,050 ft)) on the eastern Pir Panjal Range of the Himalayas around 51 km from Manali. The pass lies on the watershed between the Chenab and Beas basins and connects the Kullu Valley with the Lahaul and Spiti Valley.

It was a clear day and the sky was so blue and looked so close that you actually could touch it if you raised your hand. Though the sun shone brightly, it was freezing cold. There was thick cover of snow all over and it was remarkably quiet.  We had crossed Marhi and were moving slowly to reach the origin point of Beas atop Rohtang Pass. At least that is what we had planned. The snow was hard set and at places it was very slippery. Most of us having no experience of mountaineering were making very careful moves.

The Rani Nala glacier point on way to Rohtang Pass was covered with snow. We did not know that it remained snow clad throughout the year; sometimes the snow fall being as high as 20 feet. I did not even know that it was a frozen glacier. Well, while crossing the Nala we came across a long ledge of about 20 feet or so. It was a narrow strip and had a straight drop of about 500 feet or so below. Leaning and putting our weight on the snow covered mountain side, we all negotiated it. It must have been past noon.

All of a sudden the weather changed. Strong winds started blowing. The sky turned gray and the temperature dropped several degrees. It felt very very ominous. A blizzard was surely on the anvil.  All of us then decided to return as fast as we could because we apprehended that we might get stranded in that snow or blown away by the gusty winds now gaining a fierce velocity with every passing minute. So we all turned back and started walking as fast under the circumstances as we could with winds occasionally throwing us off balance. As we came on the narrow ledge over the Rani Nala that we had crossed on our way up some time back, we discovered to our horror that the narrow ledge had become narrower with only a scarcely visible strip that could at best hold the size of a shoe. The sharp drop looked deeper. Three of them ahead of me somehow crossed it one by one. There was no space to walk abreast. I was the next to follow. As I stepped on to that strip and was trying to negotiate it, the worse happened.  I lost balance and slipped half way through. While I was holding on to the narrow strip of the ledge with one knee, my other leg was dangling down towards the gorge. In a split second this horrible spectre of falling in to the deep gorge of the glacier and dying a snowy death loomed large on me. Shifting my weight on to the snow covered mountain slope, I dug my fingers in to the snow. Soon my hands went numb and lost sensation. There was a wrenching pain in my arms and body and it felt like I was paralyzed. I was fast giving up hope of surviving. I closed my eyes. I can’t remember if I prayed.

Suddenly a firm hand caught me from my arm and saying something that sounded like words of encouragement, put me back on my feet and holding my hand led me across, for what felt like an eternity, to the safe ground. My entire body was frozen partly with cold and partly with panic, shock and the fear of death. This was the first time I experienced the cold sweat. This was the first time I saw the possibility of death so closely staring in my face.  

Who was this angel? He was a local from Lahul valley going across to the Manali side. His familiarity with the terrain and weather conditions saved me.  Thank God he was there.

Where do these angels come from? How is the urgent danger staved off by the arrival of just the right man at just the right time? Happy accident or the hand of fate?

About a quarter of a century back a relative of mine was admitted to Apollo Hospital Chennai for a heart bypass surgery. Unlike today’s medical advancement in this field, it was an event extraordinaire back in those days. I had to rush to Chennai to be by his side as he was all alone and his family was in Sibsagar district of Assam where was currently posted. The operation was to take place in two days’ time. Besides being with the patient during visiting hours, I had no other occupation. So one afternoon I decided to call on the Police Commissioner of Chennai. A very senior officer with big handlebar moustaches he defied the forbidding image of a tough cop by his gentle manners. I had briefly met him on another occasion. I was received with warmth and cordiality by him and over a cup of filtered coffee he asked me the purpose of my visit.  I spent about 15/20 minutes with him and left.

Later in the day I prepared myself to visit my relative in Apollo. At that point of time and perhaps even now Apollo Chennai has been a hospital of a great repute for its Cardiology department and heart bypass surgery. Patients from far and wide would come to this hospital. As a result the lobby would be crowded; rooms would not be available immediately and there would be long queues to see the concerned doctors. No one was treated as more important than the other and having to cope up with the pressure of having so many patients, the services would slacken sometime.

I reached the Hospital as the clock announced the visiting hour. As I approached the room of my patient I noticed an inspector of police standing outside the room. I could not figure out why should a cop be there standing as if guarding this room. As I entered the room, I found a couple of doctors along with the senior surgeon who was to operate my relative, standing there bent over my relative as if examining him. I panicked and a sense of fear crossed my mind. Has something untowards happened ? Then I noticed the Commissioner of Police sitting in a chair and surrounded by the doctors talking to my relative. He looked at me and soft spoken as he was he suddenly became kind of defensive and said ‘I was just passing by. I thought I will look up your relative.’ I was totally dumb-founded. I didn’t know how to react. Rising from his chair, he said ‘Your relative is fine. I have spoken to the doctors. Don’t worry. He is in safe hands.’ Escorted by the Inspector he left the room and like a zombie I followed him to his car. 

I recall that I had never told him either the name of my relative or his room number.  Then how did he in the several blocks of this hospital find my relative out? As he left, this inspector turned to me and said, ‘Saar, in the afternoon the CP had called me to find out your relative. I had great difficulty in locating him as there was no clue available with me.’

It is difficult for me to describe what this visit did to my patient. The level of care and concern for him went a few notches higher and during his surgery he was surrounded by a bevy of doctors from several streams, an unusual event some attendants and patients continued talking about long after. I am still wondering what impelled him to go and visit a relative of a junior officer whom he hardly knew.

As I arrived in Hyderabad to join my new posting, I was confronted with the problem of admission for my daughter to a premier convent school. I was a stranger in Hyderabad and did not know any one in particular in the city. So I called up the Additional Commissioner of the city police whom I had met just once. Soon after he called me to say that the principal would see me on a particular day. I was grateful to him for having spoken to the principal and having fixed my appointment. In the meantime we were informed that the MOS Home would be visiting the Academy on the very same day when my appointment with the principal was fixed.  I had certain assigned duties in connection with the visit and so it was not possible for me to go and meet the principal. Well, the MOS Home arrived on the appointed day, stayed with us for a couple of hours and left. After his departure I called the Addl CP to inform him that I could not go to see the principal. ‘I know MOS Home was visiting you and you would not be able to go and meet the principal, But don’t worry. I went and met the principal. Your daughter’s admission is through. Tomorrow go to the school and deposit her fee!

I have stated it earlier. I am still wondering. Where do these angels come from? What impels them to stand by you in your hour of crisis? How is the urgent danger staved off by the arrival of just the right man at just the right time? Happy accident or the hand of fate?

Only if I could find an answer before the gusty winds of eternity set sail to my life boat on an uncharted course.