There were two jokes about Ladakh that were laughed down. Both dark.
The first was about whitewash.
The second was about an oily broker in Noida.
They were jokes among friends. Friends who worked in the military and in the media covering the military.
We know if a joke requires a preface or an afterword it is lost at birth. Joke no.1 was that “if the Chinese ever come into these places, India will need buckets of whitewash”. This was at a company operating base (COB) at the front. On its walls, marked in red, were the limits of patrolling by the army and Indo Tibetan Border Police (ITBP). The army’s and the ITBP’s posts were co-located.
We were at an Indian Army post facing the Chang Chenmo Range across the depthless blue of the Pangong Tso.
The arching thought over that was, the whitewash would paint over these maps.
The second joke was when one of the friends was buying a flat, a 1400 square feet flat on the 18th floor of a highrise in Noida Extension. In July 2016, Noida Extension in Delhi’s National Capital Region (Delhi NCR) was a cross between Borivili in North Bombay and Sudan as in Lawrence of Arabia.
“Saabji”, the Gupta who was the broker told K, “aapko ded hazaar square ft mil raha hai with parking. Ded hazaar se paachso minus kar lijiye for parking aur phir 30% super built area aur carpet area ka pharak”.
(Sir, you are getting a 1500 sqft flat with a space to park one car and then space to bark your bum. There is a difference between super built area and carpet area - translation mine.) “Aur baaki jo hai woh sub whitewash kar denge.” (As for the rest, we’ll paint it over).
Modi’s administration is in the character of that oily broker of Noida when it comes to China and Ladakh.
We do not know the oily fellow’s brokerage.
In the forbidding beauty and starkness of Eastern Ladakh on that assignment, our photography was limited. Not only by technology but also by the military’s tactical restraint. Our sight, audibility, questions, were not.
We were for a large part of the tour escorted by a Brigadier, an officer who earned respect not only in the duration of that drive and trek but also after it, for his scruple, his call in Chushul when a storm broke out at 14,000 ft that we should camp for the night in the military outpost rather than attempting to drive to Leh.
The memorial to Major Shaitan Singh that I saw accompanying a patrol early one morning is like the iris in my eye. The grey plaque has had to be removed because it is now in a so-called “buffer zone”.
The Brigadier did say over a drink though that he was looking forward to retirement and listening to Carnatic music in his west coast ancestral home. That was not to happen immediately. He got promoted and was sent back to Eastern Ladakh after a stint in army headquarters.
Two evenings ago an army aviator, who flew the Lancer2 helicopters over the Raki Nullah, Burtse, in the Depsang Bulge and to and from Point 30R (30R denotes a topographically contoured map to fix a position that is at least 30 metres above surrounding areas that are already 14000 ft high), was wondering how would he fly there with his trainees to explain “hot and high” sorties.
Most flying in high altitudes is done in the mornings when there is more oxygen in the air. That is why it is “hot and high”. The lesser the oxygen in the air is, the lesser the payload for aircraft. Helicopter pilots especially know this from practice.
On that same tour we were escorted in Sub Sector North (SSN) by an Army Aviation Corps officer. SSN covers the area in Eastern Ladakh from Tangse to the Karakoram Pass. Helicopter crew know best the air and the ground because they chop through the thin air navigating from landmark to landmark, a weaving rivulet, a heap of stones. They are also the first respondents when a Galwan happens.
There is a third joke. It goes like this. When you have to deal with an oily broker who masks his owner, buy buckets of whitewash.
Sujan Dutta is a journalist based in Delhi. He tweets from @reportersujan
