Of words and slippages

The army chief, Gen Deepak Kapoor, at a recent instance, did think loud about scenarios and happenstance, and the mavens have since been taking note of it. Our first army chief, Field Marshal K M Cariappa, also had a way of speaking his mind, say people in the know. As author Manohar Malgaonkar recalls in his memoirs, Field Marshal Cariappa started the practice of addressing all ranks, now and then, in what he called his darbars. It’s a related matter that in the barracks, the talk was that while the chief spoke the Queen’s tongue like a well-educated Englishman, he also spoke Hindustani with similar aplomb! The story goes that after one such high-voltage speechifying in Hindustani in the Capital, the chief wanted to know just how well his message had been received — no Barak-Obama-style teleprompters then. So, Cariappa had the Subedar-Major summoned and asked him how the jawans had liked his address. “Bahut, bahut achha, saab (excellent),” he was assured. “But it would have been even better had you spoken in Hindustani!” The medium had clearly not been the message! But no matter. The chief had a reputation for uprightness.

Statements can fall flat though. The story goes that Raj Narain, maverick politico and Union health minister during the Janata regime in the 1970s, had the brainwave to make a political statement by choosing to ride a bicycle for a surprise inspection of Ram Manohar Lohia Hospital in the Capital. The gameplan was that the health minister would be photographed proudly identifying with the aam aadmi and cycling off to Parliament after his errand, for the next day’s papers. But Raj Narain, in his haste, left the cycle bang in front of the hospital portico, and both its tyres were promptly deflated by the unsuspecting beat policeman, for wrong parking. It led to a scene later; but it was a flop show! The minister had to blurt something about having to rush to the House, from the back seat of his official car!