Friday, December 31, 2010

A Lesson in Ethics by an Army Officer

A Lesson in Ethics by an Army Officer
taken from indian defence review

By Maj Gen Dhruv C Katoch
Issue: Net Edition

 

It was the summer of 67. I was all of sixteen years old, had just finished my schooling from a prestigious boarding school and was on a sabbatical working out what to do with my life.

My father was a colonel in the army and had a year to go before retirement. We were living in a comfortable government bungalow in Ajmer but as far as material luxuries go, we didn’t have much; no car, no scooter and no refrigerator either – the status symbols of those days. Television had not yet spread its wings in the country and a small transistor radio was our means of keeping in touch with the rest of the world. We however, felt no sense of deprivation and the lack of amenities perhaps spurred our innate abilities to keep ourselves occupied in more meaningful ways.

During those days, it always upset me that father never let us use the office jeep for visiting friends, going to the market or seeing the various attractions which the town had to offer. My brothers, my sister and I would either cycle or walk to where ever we had to go and my mother would take a rickshaw for her occasional trips to the market. Father was the head of his department and could so easily have used service transport for his family had he been so inclined. Many government officials routinely did so but for father such an act was unthinkable. It was also unthinkable for us to question him about it. One evening however, I mustered up the courage and did the unthinkable.

‘Why don’t you let us use the office jeep sometimes, Dad?’ I asked. We were sitting in the drawing room and father had just poured himself a stiff tot of rum. Mom looked at me quizzically, wondering where such a conversation would lead but refrained from saying anything. Dad turned, took a sip from his drink, looked me straight in the eye and said, ‘I would son, but the pear would not go down my throat’.
 
 ‘What pear?’ I asked.
Father waited awhile and then narrated this most amazing tale. ‘When I was a kid your age, or perhaps a shade younger than you are now’, he said, ‘I had gone out to play with my friends. On the farther side of the village there was a beautiful orchard where the first lot of pears had ripened on the trees. Which young bunch of kids could resist such a temptation? Well, we crawled under the fence and with an intrepidity that would have done a cat burglar proud, took all we could carry before scampering back to safety. I took my share of the loot home, as proud as a warrior returning home with conquests from a famous victory’.

‘Your grandfather was sitting on his favourite chair on the verandah smoking his hookah. It was over a decade since your grandfather had retired from the army, but he was as fit as a fiddle, still had the strength of an ox and his back was ramrod straight. I still remember the scene so vividly; the dusk settling in, the shadows lengthening and the snow clad mountains jutting out in pristine purity over a pale blue sky that was gradually darkening.

The stillness of the evening was broken only by the murmur of the breeze and the occasional gurgling rattle like sound emanating from your grandfather’s hookah’. Father paused, as if reliving those days and then continued with his tale. ‘I ambled over to him’ he said ‘and offered him a plate with the freshly cut fruit. I don’t know what I expected to get from him; praise maybe, appreciation perhaps or possibly just an acknowledgement of my boyish skill? What I got, however, was something totally different. Your grandfather instantly divined the source of the offering and its method of procurement, but he didn’t say anything about that to me. He simply said that the pear would not go down his throat as he found it impossible to eat anything that had not been honestly obtained. There was no admonishment in his tone, no raising of the voice in anger, just a quiet statement of fact. And then your grandfather let the matter rest’.

Dad paused again, looked at me and continued, ‘I took the plate back with an overriding sense of pain and guilt. Away from your grandfather’s eyes, I took a bite of the pear to see if there was any truth in the assumption. Well, the pear wouldn’t go down my throat either. So next morning, I confessed all to the owner of the orchard. I was feeling a bit wretched but atonement was called for if I was ever to live down the sense of shame I felt. The owner, a distant relative, gave me a stern look all through my sorry narrative, but once again there was no outrage, no admonishment. Putting his hand over my shoulder, he took me inside his house and to my utter surprise, presented me with a basket of fresh ripe pears.’ There was silence for some time, then dad continued, ‘life offers many temptations, son, but some of us cannot get the pear down our throats’.

It’s a lesson I never forgot. Life offers so many temptations, so many pears. Having retired now after having served with honour as a third generation officer in the Indian Army, I hope this is a legacy which my children will carry to the future.

Maj Gen Dhruv C Katoch, Additional Director, Centre for Land Warfare Studies (CLAWS).
August 5th, 2010 . 
 
 

दुनिया को नसीहत देने वाला कुछ नहीं कर पाता जबकि उसका स्वयं पालन करने वाला कामयाबी की बुलंदियों तक पहुंच जाता है

चाणक्य एक जंगल में झोपड़ी बनाकर रहते थे। वहां अनेक लोग उनसे परामर्श और ज्ञान प्राप्त करने के लिए आते थे। जिस जंगल में वह रहते थे,वह पत्थरों और कंटीली झाडि़यों से भरा था। चूंकि उस समय प्राय: नंगे पैर रहने का ही चलन था, इसलिए उनके निवास तक पहुंचने में लोगों को अनेक कष्टों का सामना करना पड़ता था। वहां पहुंचते-पहुंचते लोगों के पांव लहूलुहान हो जाते थे। एक दिन कुछ लोग उस मार्ग से बेहद परेशानियों का सामना कर चाणक्य तक पहुंचे। एक व्यक्ति उनसे निवेदन करते हुए बोला, 'आपके पास पहुंचने में हम लोगों को बहुत कष्ट हुआ। आप महाराज से कहकर यहां की जमीन को चमड़े से ढकवाने की व्यवस्था करा दें। इससे लोगों को आराम होगा।'उसकी बात सुनकर चाणक्य मुस्कराते हुए बोले, 'महाशय, केवल यहीं चमड़ा बिछाने से समस्या हल नहीं होगी। कंटीले व पथरीले पथ तो इस विश्व में अनगिनत हैं। ऐसे में पूरे विश्व में चमड़ा बिछवाना तो असंभव है। हां, यदि आप लोग चमड़े द्वारा अपने पैरों को सुरक्षित कर लें तो अवश्य ही पथरीले पथ व कंटीली झाडि़यों के प्रकोप से बच सकते हैं।' वह व्यक्ति सिर झुकाकर बोला, 'हां गुरुजी, मैं अब ऐसा ही करूंगा।' इसके बाद चाणक्य बोले, 'देखो, मेरी इस बात के पीछे भी गहरा सार है। दूसरों को सुधारने के बजाय खुद को सुधारो। इससे तुम अपने कार्य में विजय अवश्य हासिल कर लोगे। दुनिया को नसीहत देने वाला कुछ नहीं कर पाता जबकि उसका स्वयं पालन करने वाला कामयाबी की बुलंदियों तक पहुंच जाता है।' इस बात से सभी सहमत हो गए।
Source:http://shirdikesaibabakesaisandesh.blogspot.com/