Though we stared long and hard, we could not see anyone. It seemed that no one had come to receive us. The usual compliment of military personnel was there, with their glum faces and their implacably disciplined bearing emanating an approach-me-not attitude for miles around. In spite of being prepared for this sort of reception by the neglectful attitude apparent during our short stay at Tezpur, we had still to accept the fact that we were getting the treatment that was being dished out to us not through any act of omission on the part of officialdom, but on account of a well-planned design of a number of Government departments and agencies working in close collusion with each other.
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By this time, after having received only unveiled apathy from our countrymen during our travails, we should have gotten used to their behaviour and so, our unheralded arrival at the New Delhi airport should have caused us no surprise. Instead, the funeral atmosphere of the place gave me the shock of my life; it was a mute testimony to the unfeeling machinations of the Government machinery. There was no way in which my wife could have been prevented from making an appearance at the airport, notwithstanding the lateness of the hour of our arrival, if only the fact of our anticipated arrival had been communicated to her. Similarly, at least the kith and kin of all other repatriates from New Delhi and neighbouring areas would certainly have shown up on the tarmac if they had been informed.
“¦we were not returning as heroes but as a defeated lot, and were being sneaked into the nations capital under the dark cover of a moonless night, more like a band of criminals than as sons of the soil who had shed blood in the service of the motherland.
The military personnel, who were at hand for the express purpose of helping us in boarding the waiting buses, carried out their duties efficiently without a word. Thus, within minutes of our arrival at the airport, we were in buses taking us to some destination of which we were totally ignorant at that time. As we were speedily putting distance between ourselves and the scene of our latest ignominy, the darkness enveloping the countryside descended right into my heart, in the shape of utter dejection in the humiliating treatment we were continuing to get from the nation. Years later when I had the occasion to witness on the local TV the scene of the spontaneous welcome accorded to the returned US diplomat hostages from Iran and the welcome accorded to the repatriated POW Naval Lt. Goodman by President and Mrs Reagan on the White House lawns, even the heart of a foreign citizen like me could not help rejoicing with the released captives. Even on that distant date, I could not entirely subdue the feelings of anger that rose within me at the comparison of these occasions of a young nation with our own degrading homecoming of years ago.
However, to get back to the story of our further sufferings. I am sure that had we somehow succeeded in getting the Chinese forces to withdraw to the internationally recognized border to MacMahon line, this very homecoming would have acquired a festive air. Under those conditions, we would have been sought after by one and all of the people who mattered in the political field. But in the prevailing circumstances, we were not returning as heroes but as a defeated lot, and were being sneaked into the nation’s capital under the dark cover of a moonless night, more like a band of criminals than as sons of the soil who had shed blood in the service of the motherland. Unfortunately, it was not humanely possible for anyone, no matter how important an office he held, to throw out the invaders at that time, working with the same plan that we had to. What a marked difference there was in this move and the move we had made a short while back, when marching bands, cheering crowds and hoards of well-wishers vied with each other to see us for our peace-time billets.
I could hardly get a straightforward answer to a direct question from anyone in authority in that Directorate. What a travesty of justice as enforced on us in the interests of security of the nation!
After we had absorbed the effects of the latest shock dealt out to us by our own destiny through the unseen hand of the all-powerful bureaucracy of the Government of our own country, we were moved into the regular barracks of a military installation, which I recognised as being the military hospital in Delhi Cantonment. An eerie silence prevailed everywhere, waiting for the appearance of a pale sun that had begun to light up the eastern skyline. An owl hooted, as if to mock the procession of heroes suddenly turned into supposed traitors. Wasn’t this an unforgettable homecoming! I for one still remember every minute detail of the occasion as it had been emotional enough to bring tears of grief at the time the drama was unfolded in front of me.
On getting into the hospital, we were slipped into a ward which had already been prepared for us, as unobtrusively as possible. This was a totally segregated accommodation, permitting very little or no contact with the normal population of the hospital. We were provided with a clean set of night-suits and were then tucked into clean, comfortable beds for the night. Sleep was still not possible for me for the remaining few hours of darkness, but in spite of my mental turmoil, I did manage to have a shut-eye for a short while that night. I woke up after my nap the next day when the nursing attendant brought in the usual bed tea. It was a hazy cold morning with just a trace of redness in the east, indicative of the spot where the sun would have been visible under normal climatic conditions. Nature was once again truly duplicating my mental state that morning.
The officers concerned seemed to be doing their duties at a very leisurely pace. They spent such an abnormally large amount of time with each officer they debriefed that it started to worry those still waiting for their turn.
As soon as we had done with our morning duties and partaken of our breakfast, a number of activities started taking place simultaneously in our ward. A medical team landed up to record the details of the medical treatments which each one of us required, fixing the priorities for treatment, while the records were being compiled. Along with this team of medical personnel, another team of Army officers swooped down on us. They introduced themselves as Intelligence Officers, sent down by the Army HQ to debrief us through interrogation of each of us about our respective experiences during out stay in the custody of the enemy.
From then on, our injuries got the regular medical attention required to aid the body in healing itself. In the meanwhile, our debriefing – no, not debriefing, but inquisition, very similar to what we had experienced at the hands of the enemy – was proceeding at a snail’s pace. The officers concerned seemed to be doing their duties at a very leisurely pace. They spent such an abnormally large amount of time with each officer they debriefed that it started to worry those still waiting for their turn. The cause of this feeling of anxiety was the ominous warning given to us at the very start of the process by the intelligence team that unless a repatriate was cleared by the team, he would have no rights to leave the hospital, or to receive any visitors within the hospital. Since this condition meant continued curtailment of our rights till clearance was given by the interrogators, all of us were keen to face the intelligence officers as quickly as possible. But it was not in our hands to do so in view of the leisurely attitude adopted by the powerful team that we were so eager to face.
The confrontation with the intelligence team that I had been eagerly waiting for finally arrived one day. At the very outset, I was asked by the officer debriefing me whether I had been subjected to any brainwashing while I was in Chinese custody.
My turn to face the squad was still to come. In the meanwhile, my wife came to visit me a bit later in the day at the hospital. Since I had not been cleared by the debriefing team till then, the administrative authorities refused her permission to see me, totally ignoring her feelings as a human being. The poor girl, who had been through hell in the few days that I was declared missing, could not stomach this new indignity heaped on her. Being an educated person, she knew she had her own rights, which could not be taken away by the military heavyweights. She, therefore, invoked her own rights of visitations rather forcefully at this stage. Since the Army authorities could not counter her pleas, they gave in to them and allowed her to visit me. When on seeing her I learnt of the absurd attitude of the authorities, my blood started to boil. It was not hard for anyone to imagine the anguish of a wife who has to live through the harrowing experience that my wife had to endure in the initial stages of the border war, and now for her to be denied the right to see me!
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It is not the fact that we were mauled by the Chinese in the ’62 war that rankles. Every country has won and lost wars. What rankles and is disdainful, is the attitude of the country, the citizens, the army hierarchy, the bureaucrats and the politicians before, during and after that war. And that attitude exists today also. We live in a country where the armed forces personnel are treated more like mercenaries – till the time the nation as a whole accepts and understands the concept of the ‘unknown soldier’, and gives a special place to all those who have donned the uniform, this sickness in our system will continue.