He retired a full fledged Colonel. Maratha light infantry regiment. He’d fought in the Pakistan war. Liberated Bangladesh and kept India safe. Retired into a flat in Jolly Friends, CHS, Mumbai. Still went for his morning and evening walk everyday. Swagger stick in hand.
The lack of decorum at society meetings left him shocked often . Always, for the lack of discipline the parents exerted over their rebellious offspring. And the building secretary’s sorry control over sweeper, mali, watchman, lift man, Pump man, etc. etc. etc.
His request that the watchman standup when ever a member entered or left was rejected.
“ We can barely get them to stay awake Colonel Saab”
“ If we make him wear a uniform we will have to pay for it and the outgoings will go up.”
Building drivers playing cards while they waited ? He’d court martialed people for less.
The fourth floor robbery would never have happened if the watchman had a fixed reporting schedule like the Colonel had suggested.
When he asked for fixed playtimes for the building children some one scratched out the ( retd.) next to his name on his nameplate.
He’d organized troop movements within enemy lines. Supply lines to keep garrisons. Whole divisions in food , transport and army issue rum.
The fatality rate for Covid 19 was on par with Siachen . If you were 60 plus then it was like Siachen on a very bad day for Pakistan.
The world was in retreat. Not just the world, the country, the city. Lockdowns and curfews that were more fitting to war time. The building was a mess. No garbage collection. Water supply erratic thanks to a pump man who had gone back to his village. The garden was messier than the prevailing political scenario.
The building secretary had stopped answering his intercom. The building watchman vanished after he was held up at knife point and relieved of phone and wallet.
The Colonel started a roster of duty with the chappies from the second and sixth floor. When the food situation worsened he initiated the food pool with common purchasing . SOP [ Standard operating procedure ] for any army mess anywhere.
He reassigned the mali’s duties to the fifth floor lady who had a green thumb. Support personnel were the kids, twelve to sixteen, when they were done with the water pumps and the disinfectant wipe down of the lift. He had a weekly review. And a monthly award. For the best soldier nay society member. The secretary came forward to offer his services in whatever deployment the Colonel saw fit. The Colonel put him in charge of the joint fitness program.
Four months later it was over. They’d found a vaccine for Covid. A vaccine and a cure. In the whole pin code of 400050 around Jolly Friends CHS they were the only ones who had survived unscathed.
A week later he found a new name plate on his door.
No (Retd.) No scratch marks.
It just said “The Colonel.”
6 comments:
Love it Clement! Respect 🙏 to "The Colonel"
Very apt one. Clement you really strike a chord
Nicely writtenđź‘Ť
Love the Colonel!
Loved it Clement. I miss my dad!! They have had such an efficiency about life in service and cilvil life really wears them down. I guess it’s frustrating when you have led companies battalions brigades corps and commands with crisp efficiency and retired still pretty young only to live in a chaos that they seem to have the answers to but have to discipline the whole lot before enforcing it. Some manage to do it...others are too tired I guess!! Salute to those retired chappies!! We are safe and living without fear because of them! Ever grateful!!
Enjoy every one of your blogs.
Post a Comment