DEEPAK — THE LIGHT THAT REMAINS A Son’s Memoir of Sardar Kuldip Singh Chadha It is difficult to write about one's father. For a son, a father is not simply a person whose life can be described through dates, achievements and milestones. He is part of the landscape of one's childhood—the voice you grow up hearing, the presence you take for granted, the smile you recognise from across a crowded room, and the person whose approval matters even when you are old enough to no longer need it. For me, my father was Daddy Ji. Before he was the student, the writer, the journalist, the government officer, the administrator, the social worker or the patriarch of a large family, he was simply the man I looked up to as my father. As a child, I did not understand the full measure of his life. I did not know what it meant to have been born in Quetta, to have been uprooted by Partition at the age of twenty, or to rebuild a life from the uncertainties of displacement. I did not fully appreciat...
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The GOC, the Crystal Glass and the “Naala” Water
The GOC, the Crystal Glass and the “Naala” Water Some army memories are forged in battles and exercises. Others are born around a bukhari, a steaming plate of momos and, occasionally, an innocent question that leaves everyone holding their breath. They say in the Army, prepare for the worst and hope for the best . But there are occasions when even the best preparation cannot save you from an unexpected answer. One such episode goes back to 1993–94 , when I was posted as the Officer Commanding an EME workshop at Chungthang in North Sikkim , providing technical support to a Mountain Brigade headquartered at Lachen. Chungthang was then a small, remote hamlet, about 95 kilometres from Gangtok, tucked away in the mountains at the confluence of the Lachen Chu and Lachung Chu, which together form the Teesta. The road beyond Chungthang climbed towards Chatten, Thangu and the high-altitude frontier. In those days, a convoy travelling from Gangtok could take most of the day, and the ...
Memoirs of My HEC Childhood
Growing Up in HEC, Ranchi – A Childhood Blessed with Simplicity and Joy Some memories never fade. They remain etched in the heart, becoming even more precious with the passage of time. My childhood in the Heavy Engineering Corporation (HEC) township at Ranchi is one such treasure that I often revisit with nostalgia. My father worked in the Heavy Engineering Corporation—initially at the Foundry Forge Plant (FFP) and later at the Heavy Machine Tools Plant (HMTP). We lived in Officers' Quarter E-157, Sector II, a spacious three-bedroom house that was more than just a residence—it was a world in itself. The house had a large front lawn and an even bigger kitchen garden in the rear courtyard. There was a garage that housed our sky-blue Ambassador car, registration number BRV 2652 —a number I still remember after all these years. Adjacent to the garage was a poultry pen where we kept nearly twenty hens, ensuring a regular supply of fresh eggs. Our kitchen garden was the pride of the ne...
The General Who Shaped a Young Officer , A Soldier’s Lesson in Leadership
The General Who Shaped a Young Officer , A Soldier’s Lesson in Leadership A decorated paratrooper and Maha Vir Chakra awardee, Maj Gen Kulwant Singh Pannu,MVC led 23 Infantry Division in Dipatoli (Ranchi) with soldierly instincts and a leadership style that left a lasting imprint on a young officer at the start of his career. Some commanders lead formations; a rare few quietly shape the officers who serve under them. By Col Guljit Singh Chadha (Retd) When I reported to my first unit in 23 Infantry Division at Dipatoli, Ranchi, in late November 1984, the city was still recovering from the disturbances due to riots that had shaken it weeks earlier. For many residents of Ranchi, the sight of soldiers from the Cockerel Division moving through the city had become a reassuring reminder that the Army stood ready to restore order in uncertain times. Fresh from the Young Officers’ course at the EME School in Baroda, I arrived as a newly commissioned officer eager to learn the craft of sold...
Anchored in Faith: A Father’s Testimony of Grace in Adversity
Faith is not just a religious sentiment; it's the invisible anchor that holds us steady through the storms of life. In moments when logic fails, when plans fall apart, and when the path ahead is uncertain, it is faith in the Almighty that becomes our compass. It is that quiet voice that says, “Hold on. This too shall pass.” Faith: A Quiet Force Unlike fear or doubt, faith often speaks in a whisper. It doesn’t demand proof , it simply trusts the process. Faith isn’t about having all the answers; it’s about believing even when we don’t. It is what steadies our trembling hearts when life throws us into the unknown. When Life Changed Forever On 23rd October 2010, my world turned upside down. My elder son, Arjun, met with a high-velocity road accident. The spinal injury he sustained rendered him paraplegic from the waist down. As a father, it was devastating. But I clung to my faith , convinced that he would bounce back, that the Almighty would carry us through. We began ...
A Lesson in Leadership I Learned from the Army: Praise in Public, Shield in Adversity
As a young cadet at the Officers Training Academy (OTA) in Chennai, I had little idea that one of the most enduring lessons of leadership would be taught to me not in a classroom, but on the Academy’s sun-scorched drill square. It was the run-up to our Passing Out Parade in March 1984,a time of immense pride, pressure, and preparation. The entire course was undergoing rigorous training and numerous rehearsals to perfect our drill. One such day was the Adjutant’s Rehearsal , overseen by Maj Dutta , a firm yet fair officer known for his high standards. Mounted on his horse, he watched us with a hawk’s eye as we went through the drill movements. Despite our best efforts, Maj Dutta was clearly unimpressed. His booming voice echoed across the ground as he admonished us for poor coordination and less-than-perfect turnout. We were made to do front rolls on the hard parade ground , a punishment we accepted without a word, though our morale had taken a hit. The very next day was the Command...