The Meme That Started It All

On social media, a meme was making the rounds about colonoscopy—or more precisely, about the bowel preparation stage that precedes it. And rightly so. The bowel prep phase, which involves drinking a laxative solution or taking tablets to flush the colon clean of stool and food particles, is widely considered the most unpleasant part of the entire process. Yet it is essential. A clean bowel enables the doctor to identify and remove polyps that could otherwise develop into cancer.

When Should You Consider a Colonoscopy?

It is advisable to discuss colonoscopy with your doctor if:

• You are over 45 years of age.
• You are over 40 with a family history of colon cancer or colon polyps.
• You have noticed a change in bowel movements, bleeding, or pain—regardless of your age.

While cancer screening is the primary reason for colonoscopy, the procedure can also detect other issues such as ulcerations, inflammation, diverticula (pouches) along the colon wall, strictures (narrowed areas), unexplained chronic diarrhea, or bleeding in the gastrointestinal tract.

The Canadian Context

In Canada, routine colorectal cancer screening using the Fecal Immunochemical Test (FIT) is recommended for average-risk adults aged 50 to 74. While FIT is the non-invasive standard screening tool, colonoscopy is typically recommended for those at high risk—such as individuals with a family history—or if a FIT test result requires follow-up. Our family doctor has been prescribing my annual FIT since I turned 50.

In 2022, my FIT revealed traces of blood in my stool, leading to my first colonoscopy. Five polyps were removed from my colon. Colon polyps are common, usually benign growths on the inner lining of the colon or rectum, affecting approximately four in ten people. Mine were benign. Polyps are of many types. Not all polyps run the risk of transforming into a cancer. Only neoplastic polyps (essentially non-malignant tumours) runs this risk. Not all polyps become malignant. Only 5 to 10 percent do and that too, over a long time, usually 10 years or more. But removal of neoplastic polyps are always recommended, to overcome the potential risk. More the number of polyps greater the risk. In2025, I underwent a repeat colonoscopy, resulting in the removal of three more polyps. My next scheduled colonoscopy is in 2028.

Polyps can also be detected by ultrasound scan although this is not the standard screening tool, it is a non-invasive option which risks non detection of small polyps. Hydro colonic Ultrasound and 3D ultrasound which simulates a colonoscopy view are specialised non-invasive procedures.

Incidence of colorectal cancer has become fairly high globally and particularly in North America. Studies have found a very high correlation between red meat consumption and the incidence of colorectal cancer. If you simply compare the global heat maps of red meat consumption and incidence of colorectal cancer, it shows a striking similarity.  The correlation is even higher in the case of processed meat and this type of cancer. The International Agency for Cancer Research (IARC), which is the specialized cancer agency of the WHO, classified processed meat (bacon, sausage, hot dogs, ham, deli meats, and pepperoni) as a Group 1 “carcinogenic to humans” agent in October 2015. This classification was based on sufficient evidence that consumption causes colorectal cancer. .On the other hand it is to be noted that consumption of white meat does not bear any direct correlation with incidence of this type of cancer.  Other risk factors are smoking and alcohol.

Preventing colorectal cancer involves regular screening (beginning at age 45) to remove precancerous polyps, maintaining a healthy weight, exercising regularly, eating a diet high in fiber, fruits, and vegetables, and limiting red/processed meats. Key lifestyle changes include quitting tobacco, limiting alcohol, and ensuring adequate calcium/vitamin D intake. 

Addressing the Fears

Common fears surrounding colonoscopy centre on the preparation process, potential pain, embarrassment, and the anxiety of what might be found. Yet the procedure itself is safe, routine, and remarkably effective in preventing colorectal cancer. It typically takes 20 to 30 minutes, involves light sedation that keeps you comfortable, and is performed by professionals in a private setting. Finding polyps is not a negative outcome—it is an opportunity to remove them before they can become cancerous.

My only logistical challenge was the requirement to be dropped off at the hospital and picked up an hour later. Hospitals do not permit patients to drive for six hours following the procedure—a precaution against the lingering effects of light anaesthesia. I enlisted the help of a family friend, a small inconvenience for such an important health measure.

A Window into the Procedure

During the procedure, I observed the doctor’s actions with fascination. A long, thin, flexible tube—roughly half an inch in diameter—equipped with a light source and a high-definition video camera at its tip was carefully inserted. The doctor manipulated the tip to navigate the curves of the colon. The tube contained channels for air or carbon dioxide inflation to improve visibility, a water spray to clean the lens, suction to remove debris, and tools such as snares or forceps for biopsies and polyp removal.

The camera transmitted high-definition, live video to a monitor, allowing the physician to examine the colon in real time. I watched alongside him. Using wire snares passed through the colonoscope, he deftly cut off the polyps, each one immediately suctioned out.

“You appear to be a master at video games,” I remarked. “You must be outsmarting your kids!”

“I have to be,” he replied with a smile. “This is my everyday job.”

The Bottom Line

If you are on the fence about whether to undergo colonoscopy, have a conversation with your doctor, family, peers, and friends. Sharing experiences and information can alleviate fears and help you make an informed decision. Remember: the best colon cancer screening is the one that gets done.

A Quantum Leap in Gunnery

The induction of the 155mm Bofors Guns into the Indian Army in 1987 was a quantum leap, bringing computing power into the field of gunnery for the first time. Until then, we had relied on cumbersome manual procedures: logarithmic tables, range tables, graphical instruments, and handheld calculators. The arrival of computers promised speed, precision, and a radical new way of thinking.

In our Regiment, I took on the responsibility of training our soldiers on these new machines. Adhering to the old military adage, It is easier to put a new idea into a military mind, but next to impossible to take out an old one, I selected our youngest soldiers for the first batch. The experienced Havildars and Naiks (Sergeants and Corporals) would wait; I reasoned that old habits had not yet taken root in the younger men.

Sepoy Nem Pal: A Star in the Making

The class began in earnest. Among the trainees was Sepoy Nem Pal, a highly intelligent soldier with nimble fingers and a fierce desire to excel. He was the ideal candidate.

After a few days, we moved on to the procedures for engaging targets. I demonstrated the steps, tasked the men with practicing, and was shortly summoned by our Commanding Officer.

Fifteen minutes later, I returned to find Nem Pal visibly worked up. He approached me anxiously. “Sir, it works perfectly when you do it on the computer. But when we do it, nothing happens. Why?“

Lacking a logical answer, I shot back with authority: “It is because you do not wash your hands in the morning with soap and water. When you touch the computer with dirty hands, the Computer God becomes displeased, and you fail.”

Nem Pal rushed out of the room. A few minutes later, he returned and tried again. Fifteen minutes after that, he came back to me, looking entirely puzzled. “Sir, I did wash my hands properly with soap and water. Still, I do not get the desired results.”

That, I realised, was the Indian Army way of handwashing. There was no set drill for it. No standard operating procedure. Everyone developed their own method—or none at all.

A Different Kind of Training

On landing in Canada, gardening became my hobby. Marina always insisted I wear gloves while gardening, but I found them uncomfortable and mostly avoided them.

One spring weekend, we decided to eat out for lunch. As I changed after gardening, Marina said, “Look at your fingers! They are so dirty. Please clean up before we set out.”

I spent the next several minutes scrubbing dirt from under my nails. After that day, I wore the gloves.

The Technician’s Secret

Years later, my career shifted from the military to corporate leadership. While serving as the CEO of a pharmacy chain in Canada, I was visiting one of our local stores when I noticed a young pharmacy technician putting on four pairs of gloves, one over the other.

Amused, I asked her why.

“Every time I handle a different medication, or if a glove touches a non-sterile surface, I simply peel off the top layer to reveal a clean glove underneath,” she explained.

“Where did you learn that protocol?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“I worked part-time at a fast-food restaurant in high school,” she said. “The manager taught me this technique to save us from constantly washing and drying our hands between orders.”

The Power of Standard Protocols

What a brilliant operational shortcut. It was efficient, hygienic, and practical—born not in a sterile hospital or a pharmacy school, but in a fast-food kitchen.

Like any discipline, whether it is operating a sophisticated Bofors artillery computer or maintaining medical hygiene, success relies entirely on standard operating procedures. True discipline begins at home, is reinforced at school, and becomes locked in at university or the military academy. Sometimes, it is passed down by a restaurant manager to a pharmacy technician, where that simple habit might one day save a life.

As for the Computer God? I like to believe that by now, Sepoy Nem Pal has made his peace with Him. Perhaps, somewhere, he is still meticulously washing his hands – just in case.

The 1978 Lecturette: A Case for Co-Education

In 1978, during my Services Selection Board (SSB) interview, we were given a slip containing three subjects for a five-minute lecturette. The subject I chose was co-education.

At the time, Sainik School admitted only boys—though today, girls are also cadets. My central argument was simple: imagine the transformation if girls were present in our classrooms.

My central argument was simple: imagine the transformation if girls were present in our classrooms. Our turnout would become impeccable. Haircuts would be crisp, uniforms sharply ironed, brass polished to a mirror shine, and shoes gleaming. Furthermore, our performance on the sports field and in academics would soar to new heights.

Studying and playing together would help cadets interact with the opposite sex naturally and confidently—a quality I personally lacked. It would provide a platform to shatter traditional gender roles, especially within the defence forces, encouraging cadets to pursue their ambitions without limitations.

Classroom discussions would bring out a wider range of opinions, broadening horizons and enhancing critical thinking. Ultimately, co-education would foster a motivating environment where students strive harder.

Every cadet, without exception, would conduct himself like a true gentleman.

The motive? To impress the girls.

A Theory Untested

I cannot say with certainty whether this theory would have worked back then. In my day at Sainik School Amaravathinagar, Tamil Nadu, we had no female cadets to test it.

However, with girls now thriving in Sainik Schools across the country, I believe the boys are performing far better than we ever did. As women join various Indian defence academies, the positive ripple effect continues.

I like to think that somewhere, my 1978 lecturette was ahead of its time.

Matthew’s parents had arrived in Canada, and his wife, Alice, had just given birth to their second child. Their eldest son, Chacko, was in sixth grade. Every day, the school bus dropped him at the doorstep precisely at 3:00 PM.

The Panic

But that day – the second Monday of November – when Ammachi (Grandmother) glanced at the clock, it read 3:20 PM. Chacko had not arrived.

Worried, Ammachi stepped outside to look for her grandson. By the time the clock showed 4:10 PM, Chacko had reached home.

Appachan (Grandfather) asked, “Where is Ammachi? “

Chacko and Appachan went out searching but could not find her.

The Call

Chacko called Matthew and explained what had happened. Matthew immediately dialed emergency services and informed the police. The police officer asked for Ammachi’s details. Matthew provided all the descriptions and added, “She is wearing a nightie.” Somehow, he managed to explain to the officer what a nightie was.

“A 60 year old lady walking on the streets in a nightie,” it was a difficult pill for the Canadian police officer to swallow.

Three police cruisers soon circled the neighbourhood, searching. And there they found her – Ammachi, shivering from the cold, sitting alone in a bus shelter. The officer gently placed her in the warm car and brought her home.

The Explanation

On the first Sunday of November at 2:00 AM, clocks in Canada move back by one hour for Daylight Saving Time. That morning, every clock in the house should have been set back by an hour.

Matthew had forgotten to do this.

Computers, cell phones, and car clocks adjust themselves automatically. But wall clocks with hands and a face do not. They must be turned forward in second Sunday of March and backward in first Sunday of November – by hand, by memory, by care.

That day, the clocks in Matthew’s home were still running on yesterday’s time. Ammachi, trusting the wall clock, had stepped out an hour too early.

The Lesson

The missing grandmother was found. The family was reunited. And Matthew learned, as many have before him, that Daylight Saving Time is not just about changing clocks, but about remembering—because sometimes, the cost of forgetting is far greater than an hour lost.

A Bold Step Forward

The Canadian government has proposed the long-awaited Safe Social Media Act aimed at online safety, including a ban on social media platforms for children under 16. The measure would create a new Digital Safety Commission of Canada and target different types of harmful online content. This proposed ban follows similar action taken in Australia, where the measure took effect last December.

Other countries are also considering youth social media bans, including the United Kingdom, Spain, and South Korea. Malaysia has enacted a ban on social media accounts for users under 16, while Brazil now requires youth accounts to be linked to those of a legal guardian to ensure supervision. French legislation limiting social media age to 15 was approved by the National Assembly in January, is approaching a final vote, and is likely to be in place for the start of the school year in September.

Proponents argue that such a ban is necessary to rein in social media companies that have resisted regulation, and that it could help combat growing evidence of health impacts from screen use and social media among children.

Unlike Australia’s blanket ban, Canada’s bill features an incentive loop: tech companies can sidestep the ban if they can prove their platforms have built-in safeguards that minimize harm to minors.

How Would a Social Media Ban Work?

Combating online harms for youth is more complicated than simply keeping them off platforms. Regulations must be watertight, and penalties stringent. Social media companies must be held accountable for the harms that exist on their platforms. At the same time, new regulations should not come at the expense of strong privacy protections.

Privacy Risks

Enforcing a ban presents significant privacy risks. Under Australian law, platforms looking to verify a user’s age can either request copies of identification documents, use a third party to apply age estimation technology to an account holder’s face, or make inferences from data already available—such as how long an account has been held.

The potential data collection alone is concerning. To be effective, such measures would need to apply to all social media users regardless of age. It is difficult to discern between a 15-year-old and a 17-year-old by appearance alone—whether in person or online through biometric systems. Platforms would have to increase surveillance to identify user age, resulting in even more privacy concerns.

Evading the Ban

Research suggests many Australian teens are evading that country’s ban, while Australia’s online safety watchdog said in March that social media companies were not fully complying. A Molly Rose Foundation study found that 61 percent of 12-to-15-year-olds in Australia continue to hold social media accounts despite being banned, while 70 percent said it was easy to beat the ban.

Children’s Mental Health: The Case for Intervention

Advocates of the ban argue that restricting access would improve children’s mental and physical health while curbing growing online addiction. They contend that platforms must be required to make their products safer and less addictive for young people—not simply to target children.

The impact of social media on children under 16 involves unique vulnerabilities, as adolescent brains are undergoing a critical period of rapid development. Medical professionals warn that frequent social media use during these formative years can alter parts of the brain responsible for emotional regulation, impulse control, and sensitivity to social rewards.

The Negative Effects

The issues faced by children and youth are also faced by adult social media users. The negative effects generally fall into several categories:

Mental Health and Brain Development

• Depression and anxiety due to long screen time.
• Infinite scrolling triggers dopaminergic pathways, reinforcing addiction-like habits and shortening attention spans.
• The constant chase for likes makes users hyper-sensitive to peer feedback and social punishment.
• Problematic social media use is likely linked to lower life satisfaction.

Body Image and Self-Esteem

• Exposure to digitally altered or AI-generated images fosters distorted perception of body shape and lifestyle.
• Posts that normalise dangerous dieting habits, restrictive eating, or purging put children at risk.
• Cyberbullying leads to depression and body disorders.

Social Skills and Communication

• Inability to read body language leads to frequent misunderstandings in real life.
• Facing a person directly becomes intimidating when messaging has become the default.
• It becomes easier for youth to participate in cyberbullying or exclusion without seeing the immediate damage.

Physical Health and Lifestyle Disruptions

• Late-night scrolling causes severe sleep deprivation, eroding daytime cognitive performance and memory.
• Screen time frequently replaces essential physical exercise, academic focus, and real-world family interactions.

Exposure to Exploitation and Dangerous Content

• Platforms can inadvertently route children toward self-harm tutorials, illegal acts, or dangerous viral challenges.
• Privacy risks result from sharing highly personal or explicit photographs.
• Lack of robust verification on apps leaves children vulnerable to extortion, blackmail, or sexual grooming.

Education: The Missing Piece

Platforms must be legislated to implement steps for youth education on online dangers before they begin using these platforms. This is akin to mandatory youth driver’s education before putting someone behind the wheel of a car. Education to prepare youth for social media use is already part of Australia’s online safety regime.

A Cautionary Note

There are significant concerns that such a ban could become a band-aid fix for the larger problem of social media regulation—by putting the onus—and the privacy risks—onto ordinary Canadians. A ban, however well-intentioned, is only as good as its enforcement. And enforcement, in the digital age, comes at a cost we may not yet fully understand. The question is not whether we should protect our children. The question is whether we are willing to protect them without sacrificing their privacy—and our own.

A Radical Break from Colonial Design

The Indian National Army (INA), or Azad Hind Fauj, led by Subhas Chandra Bose, was deliberately crafted to dismantle the rigid class, caste, and religious divisions that the British colonial military system had engineered. Under Bose’s visionary leadership, the INA established a radically inclusive template – a secular, egalitarian, and united India in miniature.

1. Dismantling the “Martial Races” Class Structure

The British Indian Army was strictly organized around the colonial theory of Martial Races. This pseudo-scientific doctrine held that only certain ethnic groups and castes – Punjabi Muslims, Jat Sikhs, Gurkhas, Rajputs – were biologically and culturally fit for combat. The British grouped these men into segregated, single-class regiments to prevent inter-community mixing and to avoid another unified rebellion like the 1857 uprising. Bose overturned this structure entirely:

• Classless Regiments: He abolished segregated, caste-based, and religion-based infantry units. Soldiers from all regions, castes, and social classes lived, trained, and fought side by side in integrated platoons.
• Unified Messing: In sharp contrast to British camps, where separate kitchens were maintained for Hindus, Muslims, and Sikhs to respect dietary caste codes, Bose enforced common kitchens. All soldiers ate the same food together – a revolutionary step that directly shattered traditional caste and religious barriers.

2. Dual Streams of Personnel

The workforce of Bose’s INA drew from two distinct socio-economic streams:

• The Military Elite (Prisoners of War): Approximately 30,000 to 40,000 professional soldiers captured by the Japanese in North Africa and Southeast Asia formed the INA’s backbone. These were trained, disciplined soldiers from the traditional peasant-martial backgrounds of British India.
• The Labour and Civilian Masses: Bose heavily recruited from the Indian diaspora in Southeast Asia – Malaya, Burma, Singapore, and Thailand. This group included wealthy merchants who provided financial backing, English-speaking white-collar clerks, and tens of thousands of impoverished, illiterate Tamil plantation labourers. This massive influx of civilian working-class volunteers democratised the military hierarchy.

3. Religious Composition and Secular Integration

Bose’s INA was a masterful realisation of inter-faith harmony. While Hindus formed the numerical majority (mirroring India’s demographics), Muslims and Sikhs held exceptionally high-profile leadership and combat roles. Key aspects of religious integration included:

• Top-Tier Leadership: Bose deliberately placed leaders of different faiths in critical command positions. Notable examples include General Shah Nawaz Khan (Punjabi Muslim, commanding the Subhash Brigade), Colonel Prem Kumar Sahgal (Hindu), and Colonel Gurbaksh Singh Dhillon (Sikh). The British inadvertently cemented this image of inter-faith unity when they tried these three specific officers together during the famous 1945 Red Fort Trials.
• Secular Symbology: Official greetings, language, and symbols were stripped of specific religious connotations to ensure universal belonging.
• Language: Hindustani – a blend of Hindi and Urdu written in Roman script – was made the official language to bridge cultural gaps.
• Greeting: The secular phrase Jai Hind (Victory to India) replaced religious salutations as the universal greeting.
• National Anthem: The anthem, Subh Sukh Chain, was a Hindustani adaptation of Rabindranath Tagore’s Jana Gana Mana.
• Brigade Names: Brigades were named after prominent secular and national heroes from diverse backgrounds – such as the Gandhi, Nehru, Azad (after Maulana Abul Kalam Azad), and Subhash Brigades.

4. Gender Inclusivity: The Rani of Jhansi Regiment

Under Bose’s visionary leadership, the INA established a radically inclusive template—a secular, egalitarian, and united India in miniature – that gave equal space to women.

In a pioneering move for any World War II-era military, Bose formed an all-female combat unit: the Rani of Jhansi Regiment. It was led by Captain Lakshmi Swaminathan (later Sahgal), a Malayalee Hindu doctor. The regiment drew hundreds of young civilian Indian women from Malaya and Burma, representing multiple religious backgrounds – Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs, and Christians. These women were trained in advanced combat, firearms, and tactics alongside male soldiers, shattering traditional gender and social roles in one decisive stroke.

Yet, it appears that present generations have largely forgotten the sacrifices, valour, and devotion to duty demonstrated by the INA’s women. Their stories – of marching into battle, of smuggling arms, of enduring imprisonment – deserve not just a footnote in history books, but a prominent place in the nation’s collective memory. Forgetting them is not merely an oversight; it is a disservice to the very idea of India they fought to create.

The present generations appear to have forgotten about the sacrifices, valour and devotion to duty demonstrated by the INA’s women.

5.  Summary of Differences

Feature	British Indian Army	Bose’s INA
Recruitment Basis	Martial Races theory (selected castes/ethnicities)	All-inclusive (professionals + civilian labour masses)
Regiment Structure	Segregated by religion, caste, and class	Completely integrated and classless
Dining (Messing)	Separate kitchens to maintain caste/religious purity	Common kitchens (all communities ate together)
Official Language & Motto	English; regimental religious war cries	Hindustani; Jai Hind
Women’s Role	Non-combatant / nursing only	Active combat infantry (Rani of Jhansi Regiment)

Epilogue

Long before independent India’s Constitution enshrined secularism and equality, Bose’s INA had already practised them on the battlefield – with common kitchens, integrated regiments, and women in combat. It was not merely an army; it was a vision of the nation Bose hoped to liberate. And though the INA did not win military victory, its legacy quietly shaped the forces that eventually won India its freedom.

If the women of Rani of Jhansi Regiment could do it then, the Indian women of today can do it better!!!

The Unwritten Truce

My first assignment to the Kashmir Valley – along the Line of Control (LOC) – came in 1987. I was a young Captain, serving as the Artillery Observation Post Officer with a Punjab Battalion. Fifty metres across the LOC lay the Pakistani post. By an odd coincidence, it was manned by a Punjab Battalion of the Pakistani Army. Between us lay a few hundred meters. Zero No man’s land. Classic eyeball to eyeball. Despite the 24/7/365 vigil, an unwritten truce prevailed. There was hardly any exchange of fire.

The area we defended was shaped like a tongue jutting into Pakistan, surrounded on three sides by Pakistani territory. Behind us loomed a massive mountain range with a single pass – Sadhana Pass. Local lore had it that when the Indian Army chased out Pakistani intruders in 1948, various mountain tops were captured as our forces rolled forward. The posts were named after the wives of the Company Commander who had captured them. Thus, the posts bore names: Sadhana, Ragini, Bimla, Thaya, and others.

The Companion

Our only source of entertainment was the transistor radio. At times, by positioning the antenna at a precise spot and angle, we could catch Sri Lankan Broadcasts. Otherwise, it was mostly Radio Pakistan. That little transistor was my life line; my window to the world, my music teacher, and, as I later discovered, my secret weapon.

But we listened to one programme religiously: Binaca Geetmala – the weekly Hindi film music countdown hosted by the iconic Ameen Sayani from 1952 to 1994. It ranked popular Bollywood songs based on record sales and listener requests. To me as with most Indians, Bollywood music was a passion. He provided details about the film from which the song came, including the producer, director, and lead actors. Sayani also shared behind-the-scenes stories about popular composers, lyricists, and playback singers.

The most popular Hindi film song programme on Akashvani (All India Radio) dedicated to the armed forces during the 1980s was Jaimala, which was broadcast on the Vividh Bharati service daily at 7:00 PM. It featured Hindi film songs requested by soldiers stationed in far-flung, remote border areas. Popular film stars and celebrities of the 1970s and 80s were often invited to present their favourite songs. While Jaimala was a top favourite, other shows that soldiers listened to were Aap ki Pasand and Bhoole Bisre Geet,

Romance of a Nation

Back then (and perhaps even now) social decorum often restricted the outward expression of intimacy. So, Bollywood music functioned as the primary language through which the Indian psyche conceptualised and experienced romance. These melodies provided a vital emotional outlet, using poetic metaphors of nature and longing to articulate feelings that remained unsaid in the pragmatic reality of everyday life. The music transformed the modest dreams of the salaried class into something cinematic and grand. Ultimately, these songs not only provided a backdrop for love, they also defined the very aesthetic of courtship, teaching an entire generation how to pine, how to woo, and how to find beauty within the boundaries of their social fabric.

A Daughter’s Question

In 2010, our daughter Nidhi was pursuing a B Sc at York University, Toronto. She had chosen an optional subject that intrigued me: The Music of Bollywood Films. The course explored the cultural evolution, history, instrumentation, styles, and societal impacts of Indian cinema’s soundtracks—from the days of Alam Ara through the films of Guru Dutt, Raj Kapoor, and Dev Anand, covering roughly 1940 to 1970.

Nidhi began quizzing me:

“Inhi logon ne, inhi logon ne…”

I answered without hesitation: “Pakeezah. Lata Mangeshkar. Filmed on Meena Kumari. Music Director: Ghulam Mohammed. Lyricist: Majrooh Sultanpuri.”

“Pyar Kiya To Darna Kya?”

“Mughal-e-Azam. Lata Mangeshkar. Filmed on Madhubala. Music Director: Naushad. Lyricist: Shakeel Badayuni.”

“Matwala jiya dole piya?”

“Mother India. Lata Mangeshkar and Mohammed Rafi. Filmed on Nargis and Sunil Dutt. Music Director: Naushad. Lyricist: Shakeel Badayuni.”

“Jane Kya Tune Kahi?”

“Pyaasa. Geeta Dutt. Filmed on Waheeda Rahman and Guru Dutt. Music Director: S.D. Burman. Lyricist: Sahir Ludhianvi.”

The quizzing continued for two weeks. I managed to answer about sixty percent – a feat that surprised even me.

The Secret Revealed

Nidhi wanted to know how I knew so much about Bollywood music. I smiled and revealed my secret: the transistor radio during my first Kashmir deployment.

Then I asked a question with genuine authority: “Why are songs from that era only about three minutes long?”

She did not know. I showed off my knowledge, courtesy of Binaca Geetmala and Ameen Sayani.

In those days, music was recorded on His Master’s Voice (HMV) records. Each record could hold about three to four minutes of audio. Placing the grooves too close together significantly reduced sound quality. For optimal sound quality, three minutes was the recommended duration. The constraint of technology shaped the art – and the art, in turn, shaped a generation.

Luckily for me, this very question came in the final exam and Nidhi got it right!!!!

Epilogue

Decades later, sitting in Canada, answering our daughter’s university questions about Bollywood’s golden era, I realised something: the lonely months at the LOC, the crackling transistor, the voice of Ameen Sayani – they had given me more than entertainment. They had given me a cultural education that would one day bridge continents and generations.

And somewhere in Kashmir, on the windswept posts named after forgotten wives, I imagine the ghosts of those songs still linger, three minutes at a time.

A Grandson’s Demand

Our daughter Nidhi and son-in-law Jay were away on a week’s vacation, and four-year-old James, our beloved grandson, came to stay with us. For three days, all went smoothly. Then came the demand.

“I want my Daddy!” James announced with unmistakable conviction.

“Don’t you want your Mummy?” I suggested hopefully.

An emphatic “No. I want my Daddy!” was his only answer.

I managed the situation with a video call that brought both parents onto the screen simultaneously. But the episode left me pondering: What creates such a powerful bond between father and son?

A Canadian Birth

James was born in Canada, where hospitals strongly recommend natural birth whenever possible. Nidhi and Jay attempted this, but the baby’s position necessitated a C-section. Throughout the process, Jay remained by his Nidhi’s side – as is customary in Canadian hospitals, where husbands stay with their wives during childbirth.

Immediately after the C-section, something significant happened. James was placed on Jay’s chest for skin-to-skin contact. That moment, I believe, forged a bond that continues to this day.

It is Jay who bathes him, feeds him, plays with him, and helps with school assignments. The attachment is palpable and profound.

The Science of Support

Having a spouse accompany a mother during delivery is not merely a cultural preference – it is strongly recommended by experts and supported by evidence-based studies. A supportive, trained partner acts as a crucial advocate, providing emotional comfort and physical aid that measurably improve both the birth experience and health outcomes.

Emotional Support and Reduced Anxiety

The presence of a trained husband significantly decreases a mother’s anxiety during labour. Through reassurance, encouragement, and a familiar loving presence in a high-stress environment, he provides comfort that no medical professional can replicate. This support empowers the mother, helping her feel safe and more in control – leading to a more positive birthing experience.

Training for expectant couples in Canada is readily accessible through the public health system, which offers comprehensive prenatal and postnatal education through both in-person and online formats. These programmes cover essential topics ranging from pregnancy health and the stages of labour and delivery to newborn care and breastfeeding techniques. By equipping parents with knowledge and practical skills, these courses help build confidence and reduce anxiety, ensuring that families are better prepared for the transformative experience of welcoming a new child.

Physical and Practical Support

A spouse’s role extends beyond emotional comfort. He can assist with pain management through counter-pressure on the back, gentle rubbing, or breathing techniques. He handles practical tasks – wiping a brow, providing water, helping the mother move or change positions to aid labour. Research indicates that continuous partner support can lead to shorter labour times and reduced need for medical interventions, including pain relief medications.

Advocacy and Safety

Perhaps most crucially, a spouse acts as an advocate – communicating the mother’s needs and preferences to medical staff when she is unable to speak during intense labour. In busy hospital settings, he ensures she receives timely care and that her concerns are addressed. He helps her understand procedures and ensures her birth plan is respected, facilitating truly informed consent.

Bonding and Shared Experience

Being present allows the father to witness his child’s birth directly, creating an immediate, powerful bond with both mother and baby. Sharing this intense, life-changing experience deepens the emotional connection between partners in ways nothing else can. In the immediate postpartum period, the partner can assist with skin-to-skin contact, help with the first feeding, and support the mother as she begins her recovery.

The Proof in a Four-Year-Old

All this science explains what I witnessed in a simple four-year-old’s demand: “I want my Daddy!” James’ preference was not a rejection of his mother, but a testament to the bond forged in those first moments of life—when father and son met skin-to-skin, and a lifetime of connection began.

In demanding his daddy, James was simply expressing what the research confirms: that fathers matter from the very beginning, and that presence at birth is not a luxury but a foundation.

The Senior Subaltern

Back in 1986, I was the Senior Subaltern – the Big Brother to all the Subalterns of the Regiment. The Senior Subaltern as the term suggests is the senior most subaltern or the junior most Captain. He generally must have a PhD in mischief management. He functions as a high-stakes professional translator, skillfully turning the Colonel’s terrifying roars into gentle suggestions that the junior officers can understand and survive.

He is a walking paradox who can enforce iron-clad discipline on the parade ground while simultaneously serving as the mastermind behind every legendary prank in the Officers’ Mess. To the juniors, he is a scary mentor who knows all their secrets; to the seniors, he is the only one who can keep the young pups from accidentally saluting a tree or a lamp post or generally keeping them away from one miscellaneous chaos or the other.  Ultimately, he is the regimental glue – one with the heavy responsibility of keeping the youngsters out of harm’s way from the Adjutant’s crosshairs.

One morning, after the Mandir Parade, a delegation of young officers led by the legendary (late) Captain Pratap Singh, MVC, approached me. They looked like they had just cracked a secret code.

“Sir,” Pratap began, “Our boys say you’re a pro at the Sanskrit aartis and shlokas, though a christian from Kerala. We stood right behind you today to see if you were actually reciting or moving your lips like a Bollywood extra. You were surprisingly good….. But we have one question.”

Then came the trap.

The Ritual Showdown

For those who haven’t been to a Mandir Parade, it ends with a classic call-and-response with the Pandit (the Regiment Chaplain):

• Pandit: प्राणियों में  Praniyon Mein… (Among all living beings…)
• Response: सदभावाना हो  Sadbhavana Ho! (May there be goodwill!)
• Pandit: विश्व का Vishw Ka (For the universe)
• Response: कल्याण हो Kalyan Ho (may there be Well-being)
• Pandit: भारत माता की Bharat Mata Ki (To Mother India)
• Response: जय हो Jai Ho (Let there be Victory)

The Unexpected Answer

Lieutenant Gulshan Rai Kaushik stepped forward with a smirk. “Sir, what exactly did you say when the Pandit called out ‘Praniyon Mein’?”

Without missing a beat, I replied, “Sambhavana Ho!”

Kaushik froze. “Sir, its Sadbhavana (Goodwill), not Sambhavana.”

I kept a straight face. “Look, Kaushik, for a Mallu like me, it’s Sambhavana. If you don’t believe me, go ask any Malayali soldier in the Regiment. It’s a regional variation.“

Now, what I didn’t tell him was that in Malayalam, Sambhavana (സംഭാവന ) means a donation or contribution. So, while everyone else was praying for universal goodwill, I was essentially praying for a Divine Donation.

Fire Support from Our Second-in-Command (2IC)

Just then, our 2IC, Major Mohan Krishnan, walked toward us. He was a certified war hero from the 1971 Battle of Jarpal – a man who had stared down enemy tanks and was mentioned in dispatches. He directed the artillery fire, fighting alongside Major Hoshiyar Singh PVC of 3 Grenadiers as the Observation Post Officer. He was also, conveniently, a fellow Mallu, a hard core variety.

“Don’t take my word for it,” I told the youngsters. “Ask our 2IC.”

The juniors gathered their courage. “Sir,” Kaushik asked, “what is the correct response to ‘Praniyon Mein’?“

Major Krishnan didn’t even blink. He barked out: “SAMBHAVANA HO!”

The Verdict

The junior officers were stunned. Two Mallu officers, one a war veteran and the other a Senior Subaltern, both confidently shouting for sambhavna in the middle of a prayer. Now sambhavna in Hindi meant possibility or probability which in the context of the prayer made little sense to us. They couldn’t possibly guess our intended prayer for divine donations. They began to wonder if there was some secret Malayali Sanskrit they hadn’t been taught by their parents.

The Major walked away coolly. I followed him with a smirk.

The best part? The Pandit’s next line: Vishwa ka Kalyan Ho (May the world have well-being). In Malayalam, Kalyanam (കല്യാണം) means Marriage. So, while the rest of the Indian Army was praying for world peace, we Mallus were basically chanting for a World Wedding Festival, (for which divine donations were initially requested.)

The young officers never questioned my Sanskrit again. To this day, I think they’re still wondering if we were genuinely confused – or if the Mallu Mafia has its own hilarious way of keeping faith.

Ultimately, I realised that leadership isn’t about being technically flawless in every prayer; it’s about the unspoken loyalty that connects a Regiment. Because at the end of the day, a soldier doesn’t follow a dictionary – they follow a leader who speaks their language, even if that language is a hilarious Mallu version of the truth.