Col D S Cheema (retd)
Jan 14 2015
In our times, it was only after completing 42-43 years of age that one got an opportunity of commanding a unit as a Colonel. And that is the time when grey hair start peeping out from all nooks and corners of the face. Most people get scared with these first signs of getting older and take to colouring the hair to hide their true age. And those like me who are nothing much to look at are even more worried about the outcome of nature's onslaught. I, however, believed that since change is the law of life, one should not only look to the past or present but should also be looking to future with confidence and hence decided not to colour the beard. In any case, I had always admired men with a wispy grey beard.
The outgoing CO thought otherwise and on a Sunday when he was preparing the colouring concoction for his own use, he decided to increase the quantity for my use as well. After about an hour or so, I couldn't believe what I saw in the mirror. His logic was that whenever you look in the mirror, you see an old man which can actually make you old over a period of time and so to remain young one must look young in the mirror. Though I did not approve of this line of thinking, yet I succumbed to his pressure to oblige him more out of courtesy for the outgoing CO than out of my own conviction. He deftly administered the concoction to my face with his experienced hand and demonstrated the whole process meticulously for future operations I had to face in his absence. In a way, he also handed over the art of remaining young when he handed over the battalion to me.
A few days after I started looking younger than my age, I overheard a jawan telling the other, "Sahib to chhokra ban gaya hai". I liked it and just smiled. Sometime later, my battalion officers were invited for lunch by the neighbouring unit on a particular day. When we settled down in comfortable surroundings, a waiter brought drinks for us and headed straight for the burly Sikh Major with a grey beard. The Major looked sheepishly embarrassed, got up from his seat and guided the waiter to me. Everyone smiled and the matter would have ended there and then had not another waiter, who brought some snacks, also done exactly the same thing. It was obvious to everyone present that I had lost the 'physical' right to command the battalion.
Another similar situation which confirmed my downward slide in the eyes of the juniors was when one of the newly posted officers, a Major, came to meet me when I was on annual leave at Panchkula before he took the AN-12 flight to Leh. This stocky short Major with a receding hairline came in the evening when I was away overseeing the construction of our house. He was in the midst of sipping coffee when I shot through the sitting room after I saw someone sitting there, straight to the bedroom. When I came out after a while, my wife introduced me to our guest. He looked flabbergasted and told me in no uncertain terms that he could never imagine such a young CO.
These two incidents demoralised me so much that I decided to stop colouring my beard and get back to the earlier look. When I went back to the unit, I noticed mischievous smiles on the faces of the two Majors. Even though they did not say a word, I am certain they would have made a fun of the turnaround in my absence. Till date I continue to believe in what Mark Twain said about age, "Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter." And like most seniors feel reassured by reciting these lines, "Kudrat ne keeya kaya haseen sitam, jism boorah kar diya dil jawan rehne diya"
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