The Army was a very boy scout line’April 22, 2011 9:22:47 AM
Novels by Indian soldiers who saw active combat in places like Kashmir are virtually zero. So Abhay Narayan Sapru’s In the Valley of Shadows is unique, writes Shana Maria Verghis. He shares stories of adventurous days when he still had his sense of humour
IMA graduate Abhay Narayan Sapru left the Army about 10 years ago, after serving most of his years in insurgency-hit areas like the North-East, in Kashmir and in Sri Lanka. “I wanted to know what combat was all about. I never looked at it as a career that needed to be grown,” remarked Sapru, on the line from Dubai, where he is currently holidaying. “As far as I was concerned, it was basically a boy’s profession and I was in it for adventure. But at some stage, one couldn’t only survive on adrenaline alone.”
Funny he should say that because Sapru was keen that readers find his first book, In the Valley of Shadows, (Wisdom Tree’s Chloropyll imprint) to be a page-turner. Which means some amount of adrenaline would have had to be involved in the process.
The book is about a group of Indian Special Forces officers, led by a Major Hariharan, pitted against battle-hardened mujahid from Pakistan, with the charismatic Sher Khan as boss. Caught between the warring factions are the local Gujjar villagers and a beautiful tribal girl. Sapru told us, and also writes in the foreward to the book, that events are “closely based on real people and real experiences.” In fact, the Sher Khan of the story who proved a formidable foe to Hariharan or ‘Harry’ was a real-life Pashtun with whom Sapru himself had often spoken to on radio. The man was later killed near the Army HQ.
Few novels have been written in the recent past by Indian defence guys or about their ops. So forget even mentioning books by those who have actually been in the line of fire. A fact that apparently prompted Sapru, who wrote several short stories before this novel was published, to take the plunge. He blames it on, “the absence of a book writing culture in the Army.”
He added a bit testily, that, “If you go to a book stall, you see some by British and Americans, who spent just a few months in a place like Afghanistan, but nothing from the Indians. Despite the fact we have done much more than them, with the Army having been involved in active combat for years.”
He went on, “Those guys keep diaries. Our men don’t seem to. So we get memoirs or books by generals, writing about technical matters. One name I can mention is Manohar Malgaonkar. He served in the British Army.” Lately, there has been books of Mukul Deva.
The Valley of Shadow is set in jihadi Kashmir, on a mountain top. The canvas of the author’s next book of stories is larger, with tales from border areas. Some are based on his personal experiences. Some go back to his father’s time. Sapru related that, “The Army allows you time to read. But maybe it’s a lack of ease with the language that prevents people from writing.” He continued, “So much has been happening in places like Kashmir, I had to capture it. Plenty is already being written about the fighting and politics.”
Instead of this, Sapru writes about things he was familiar with. Like covert ops and espirit de corps. He said, “While writing about Sher Khan, my admiration was so much, I forced myself to reign it in.” He explained, “Any soldier who fought LTTE or mujahideen shares this admiration for their indifference to death.” He went on, “But they have weaknesses too. And follies. The Pashtun I knew was not like the rank and file, but when I spoke, he would share his deep disdain for the Hindu race and how it was subjected by the Muslim rulers. So, despite his great courage and valour, his mind was that of an illiterate person, without a wide or great world view.”
Sapru has written in the foreward that he thought the foreign militants were ‘romantics and adventurers’, like he was, only to discover several did it for economic reasons, and that many were ‘malevolent, religious zealots... with a very narrow vision of life.’ Hariharan and Sher Khan in that sense share a bond of both being violent and adventurous, but Harry is the romantic Khan, a bellicose fanatic.
We couldn’t help remarking that the militant’s outlook while dangerous, was not very different, in a different situation, from that of kids with a limited imagination, posturing on a playground, about whose daddy was strongest. Sapru laughed, “The Army was a very boy scout line. In fact, I moved on, when I started to feel my sense of humour dying.” He said the Army’s stand on hardcore militants whose mission was death in the end, was very clear. “Eye for an eye.” He added, “But we had sympathy for the local fighter. You felt he was still from your country and wouldn’t have the same hatred. But to the Pakistani militants, it was ‘Show no mercy.’
He added that codes of honour fell by the wayside during conventional warfare. The villages’ role in this was often as havens, where militants would rest or get warnings. “Sometimes they would take the women from there, up to the hills.”
The Major’s men are not averse to pretty women, to lend softness to the adventure and fill the absence of those left behind. But villagers sitting on the fence also created a stalemate. Their attitude was to support whoever was the winning side so it was like saying, ‘if you have a gun, we’ll give you what you want.’ At some point, you have to stop that. “
Then musing about his Army life, he said, “Some things we did at 29 and 30 were shocking and childish too. But with maturity and deaths close-up, the humour waned. It also got difficult to communicate with the outside world, where new computers were coming out and people were living different lives. No one was interested in what you did in the hills.” He continued, “The Indian Army only recently acknowledged post-combat stress from constant combat. But I remember, once I was on leave and at a party where people were laughing over drinks and having a great time. I was thinking about my patrol and the dead. I was so angry!”
It took three years to wean himself back into civilian life. “When you are constantly ducking crackers, it becomes a habit. If bungee jumping and paragliding had been around when I was younger, I would probably have got my outdoor kick thrills there and never joined the special forces. When a bullet flies by, it’s not about patriotism but about your buddy, your battalion and yourself.” He concluded, “I was 22 when I returned from combat Sri Lanka and people were asking me inane questions like, ‘is gold cheap?’, ‘how are the girls?’ I later realised people are interested in things like life and love and not other emotions like violence or death. The sad part is, few know how many mothers and fathers are losing their sons in lands beyond law, where life is cheap.”
IMA graduate Abhay Narayan Sapru left the Army about 10 years ago, after serving most of his years in insurgency-hit areas like the North-East, in Kashmir and in Sri Lanka. “I wanted to know what combat was all about. I never looked at it as a career that needed to be grown,” remarked Sapru, on the line from Dubai, where he is currently holidaying. “As far as I was concerned, it was basically a boy’s profession and I was in it for adventure. But at some stage, one couldn’t only survive on adrenaline alone.”
Funny he should say that because Sapru was keen that readers find his first book, In the Valley of Shadows, (Wisdom Tree’s Chloropyll imprint) to be a page-turner. Which means some amount of adrenaline would have had to be involved in the process.
The book is about a group of Indian Special Forces officers, led by a Major Hariharan, pitted against battle-hardened mujahid from Pakistan, with the charismatic Sher Khan as boss. Caught between the warring factions are the local Gujjar villagers and a beautiful tribal girl. Sapru told us, and also writes in the foreward to the book, that events are “closely based on real people and real experiences.” In fact, the Sher Khan of the story who proved a formidable foe to Hariharan or ‘Harry’ was a real-life Pashtun with whom Sapru himself had often spoken to on radio. The man was later killed near the Army HQ.
Few novels have been written in the recent past by Indian defence guys or about their ops. So forget even mentioning books by those who have actually been in the line of fire. A fact that apparently prompted Sapru, who wrote several short stories before this novel was published, to take the plunge. He blames it on, “the absence of a book writing culture in the Army.”
He added a bit testily, that, “If you go to a book stall, you see some by British and Americans, who spent just a few months in a place like Afghanistan, but nothing from the Indians. Despite the fact we have done much more than them, with the Army having been involved in active combat for years.”
He went on, “Those guys keep diaries. Our men don’t seem to. So we get memoirs or books by generals, writing about technical matters. One name I can mention is Manohar Malgaonkar. He served in the British Army.” Lately, there has been books of Mukul Deva.
The Valley of Shadow is set in jihadi Kashmir, on a mountain top. The canvas of the author’s next book of stories is larger, with tales from border areas. Some are based on his personal experiences. Some go back to his father’s time. Sapru related that, “The Army allows you time to read. But maybe it’s a lack of ease with the language that prevents people from writing.” He continued, “So much has been happening in places like Kashmir, I had to capture it. Plenty is already being written about the fighting and politics.”
Instead of this, Sapru writes about things he was familiar with. Like covert ops and espirit de corps. He said, “While writing about Sher Khan, my admiration was so much, I forced myself to reign it in.” He explained, “Any soldier who fought LTTE or mujahideen shares this admiration for their indifference to death.” He went on, “But they have weaknesses too. And follies. The Pashtun I knew was not like the rank and file, but when I spoke, he would share his deep disdain for the Hindu race and how it was subjected by the Muslim rulers. So, despite his great courage and valour, his mind was that of an illiterate person, without a wide or great world view.”
Sapru has written in the foreward that he thought the foreign militants were ‘romantics and adventurers’, like he was, only to discover several did it for economic reasons, and that many were ‘malevolent, religious zealots... with a very narrow vision of life.’ Hariharan and Sher Khan in that sense share a bond of both being violent and adventurous, but Harry is the romantic Khan, a bellicose fanatic.
We couldn’t help remarking that the militant’s outlook while dangerous, was not very different, in a different situation, from that of kids with a limited imagination, posturing on a playground, about whose daddy was strongest. Sapru laughed, “The Army was a very boy scout line. In fact, I moved on, when I started to feel my sense of humour dying.” He said the Army’s stand on hardcore militants whose mission was death in the end, was very clear. “Eye for an eye.” He added, “But we had sympathy for the local fighter. You felt he was still from your country and wouldn’t have the same hatred. But to the Pakistani militants, it was ‘Show no mercy.’
He added that codes of honour fell by the wayside during conventional warfare. The villages’ role in this was often as havens, where militants would rest or get warnings. “Sometimes they would take the women from there, up to the hills.”
The Major’s men are not averse to pretty women, to lend softness to the adventure and fill the absence of those left behind. But villagers sitting on the fence also created a stalemate. Their attitude was to support whoever was the winning side so it was like saying, ‘if you have a gun, we’ll give you what you want.’ At some point, you have to stop that. “
Then musing about his Army life, he said, “Some things we did at 29 and 30 were shocking and childish too. But with maturity and deaths close-up, the humour waned. It also got difficult to communicate with the outside world, where new computers were coming out and people were living different lives. No one was interested in what you did in the hills.” He continued, “The Indian Army only recently acknowledged post-combat stress from constant combat. But I remember, once I was on leave and at a party where people were laughing over drinks and having a great time. I was thinking about my patrol and the dead. I was so angry!”
It took three years to wean himself back into civilian life. “When you are constantly ducking crackers, it becomes a habit. If bungee jumping and paragliding had been around when I was younger, I would probably have got my outdoor kick thrills there and never joined the special forces. When a bullet flies by, it’s not about patriotism but about your buddy, your battalion and yourself.” He concluded, “I was 22 when I returned from combat Sri Lanka and people were asking me inane questions like, ‘is gold cheap?’, ‘how are the girls?’ I later realised people are interested in things like life and love and not other emotions like violence or death. The sad part is, few know how many mothers and fathers are losing their sons in lands beyond law, where life is cheap.”
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