Forces Request
This post is about the Indian Armed Forces. But it’s not about the great task of guarding the motherland or the hardships and bloodshed of battlefields. It’s not even about the romanticized image of an armed professional or about the ceaseless tussles with our miscreant neighbors. With all due respect to and understanding for the sensitivity and significance of such subjects, I would refrain from them and leave the task for the qualified intellectuals. I would instead share my personal experiences that give glimpses of oh-so-human people who put their life at stake and serve the forces.
In an attempt to begin with the beginning I am rewinding the memory to mid 80s when I was a kid and had a neighborhood uncle who was a Major in the army. His two kids were my playmates. There was a swing installed in our front verandah where I spent most of my evenings (sometimes even scorching afternoons). Major uncle used to give me the biggest possible push at the swing making it span almost a curve of 180 degrees. That was his way to induce some bravery in me no matter how much it scared my mother. Other than this I can only remember his Royal Enfield bike.
The next encounter also came on a bike. This time it was a Karizma that took me till the LOC in Chushul, while I sat on its backseat daydreaming and sipping the beauty of Ladakh. We were feeling quite elated and ignorantly safe as we posed for a group photograph at the Chushul war memorial and proceeded further towards Changthang plains through a route that is usually out of bounds for civilians. We were quite confident of the special permissions in our pockets as if they were bulletproof jackets impervious to the crosshairs at ether sides of the road. The daydreaming broke off abruptly due to a sudden commotion on the road. We were stopped at the Rohit post and almost interrogated. The battalion had no information of our arrival. They were pacified after we showed our papers and were almost happily surprised at the presence of four girls in the riding company. Quite understandable, they lead austere lives disconnected with the rest. While our group leader clarified matters with their seniors, the Jawans treated us to warm water and super delicious tea flavored with black pepper and ginger. I thanked them heartily.
Last month, I thanked them again while hosting the show “Forces Request”.
All India Radio has been airing this show since more than fifty years through their medium wave channel that gets relayed to remote areas not yet penetrated by FM channels. This show is dedicated to the armed forces and the RJ is supposed to play the western songs requested by the forces crowd. I enjoyed interacting with them through the messages they would send me. Some interesting experiences are on order now.
“You be the hero of the neighborhood
Nobody knows that you left for good
You’re in the army now
Oh, oh, you’re in the army now”
Heroes have fancies too. So it isn’t unnatural that this lot looks forward to hearing a delicious female voice singing their praises and playing the music of their choice…
“You’re wish is my command…as far as the playlist of this show is concerned” I would say often.
No wonder that Flying Lt. Karan said in his message that he wishes that I were his instructor. I told him that we must be thankful that God doesn’t fulfill all our half-witted wishes!
Ajay and Amit, both Captains with Communication Control are regular listeners. They are both avid fans of Celine Dion and both have been unlucky with girls. They would often share their agony…
“All girls want money and corporate life, no one wants to go around with a soldier looking like a monkey in uniform and with such short hair!”
Well…I had to reassure them of the girly fantasies of brave rough-n-tough hunks, the typical Mills & Boons heroes. That assurance plus skies of LA by Celine Dion would always cheer them up. After all that’ is the vision for this show…to boost the morale of the Indian Armed Forces. And I believe in doing my job well. So I would happily play all the Bob Marleys, Scorpions, and Britney Spears that were requested.
I would often receive a respite from playing the usual suspects with a request for a piece of music such as Christopher Cross that is not commonly played on radio. Despite being in remote inaccessible regions, they have still been reached by musicians like Will. I. Am. and his curiosity…
”Baby where did you get your body from?” … “Priyanka Ji please play - I got it from my maama!” …read another message.
Some messages would make me say “ahem!” while a few would make me sit upright, especially when the sender would be a Lt. Col. asking for a song to be dedicated to his beloved daughter.
Some listeners would be quite outspoken; one of them said…
“You are playing beautiful tracks…so why are you so late to say I love you!”
Well! what does the RJ say to that …
“Oh yes! But ofcourse I love you all! …muaah…muaah…muaah…!! Now let me cut this Miss Universe stint and tell u that most importantly… I respect u all!”
Some listeners would be shy and very sweet, especially the ones from Kargil area. They would send sweet messages for their sweethearts back home and also to their mates in the forward posts. Chowang, Dhargyal, and Tjompa would never miss the “Tashi-Delak”s and would make me crave to be in the hills ASAP.
Well…such have been my sweet-n-spicy-n-short interactions with the armed people.
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