top of page

By:

Correspondent

23 August 2024 at 4:29:04 pm

Broken Faith

For generations, the Ram Janmabhoomi movement was about far more than bricks and mortar. It was sustained by faith, sacrifice and an unwavering belief among millions of devotees that one day a grand temple would rise at what they regarded as the birthplace of Lord Ram. After decades of political battles, social upheaval and legal contestation, that dream finally became reality. For countless Hindus, it marked the fulfilment of a civilisational aspiration. This is precisely why the allegations...

Broken Faith

For generations, the Ram Janmabhoomi movement was about far more than bricks and mortar. It was sustained by faith, sacrifice and an unwavering belief among millions of devotees that one day a grand temple would rise at what they regarded as the birthplace of Lord Ram. After decades of political battles, social upheaval and legal contestation, that dream finally became reality. For countless Hindus, it marked the fulfilment of a civilisational aspiration. This is precisely why the allegations now emerging from Ayodhya are so disturbing. The Special Investigation Team constituted by the Uttar Pradesh government is probing serious irregularities in the handling of donations offered by devotees, to the tune of Rs. 7-7.5 crores missing. Investigators are examining the procedures governing donation boxes, cash counting and the movement of personnel entrusted with handling offerings made in good faith by worshippers. The details are deeply troubling. Individuals involved in counting donations are under scrutiny for sudden and unexplained financial growth. Authorities have allegedly recovered substantial sums of cash. Questions are being asked about assets accumulated by persons linked to temple operations. When a devotee places money into a donation box, it is an act of faith. The offering is made not to an institution but to the deity. Those entrusted with managing such offerings carry a responsibility far greater than that borne by ordinary administrators. They are custodians of sacred trust. The allegations that have emerged have wounded the emotional bond that millions have forged with the temple. While a scandal in a government department is unfortunate, a scandal involving a sacred institution is even more corrosive. It risks breeding cynicism where reverence should exist. The Ram Mandir is too important an institution to be shielded from scrutiny. In fact, because of its significance, it must be subjected to higher standards of transparency than almost any other public body in the country. While the temple itself remains a symbol of faith, what requires examination are the actions of those entrusted with managing a sacred institution. For years, devotees contributed money, labour and emotional energy to a cause they believed transcended politics. They did not do so to enrich temple employees or power brokers. The SIT investigation must therefore proceed without fear or favour. Every allegation must be examined. Every financial trail must be followed. Every individual, regardless of proximity to powerful figures, must be held accountable if wrongdoing is established. The Ram Mandir was built through the devotion of millions. Its sanctity cannot be compromised by the greed of a few. The greatest threat to the temple today does not come from outside its walls. It comes from the possibility that those entrusted with protecting faith may have betrayed it. And for devotees, that is the most painful betrayal of all.

Married to the Army First!

Over the years, she realised we had sworn allegiance to the Olive Greens well before we married our soulmates.

It was the third week of August 1999. Our Assault Team had just returned to Jodhpur by train after three months in the Batalik Sub-Sector of Ladakh during the Kargil Conflict. Since late June, we had been operating independently under an infantry division, detached from our unit, which had been moved to Rajasthan in anticipation of the localised conflict escalating across the International Boundary.


Seeing my wife and little daughter, barely a year and a half, felt surreal. The first televised war in India had clearly taken a toll on my better half, though the relief in her eyes was palpable. She had borne the brunt of the uncertainties wars cast on loved ones, especially with a small child to rear. Our little girl, of course, was bemused to see her father, as her reactions showed.


After freshening up at home, it was time to head to Battalion Headquarters, meet our Commanding Officer (CO), and give him an in-person rundown of operations from late June to the ceasefire on 26 July 1999. First-hand accounts always provide a clearer picture than Situation Reports (SITREPs) sent through military channels. We had been operating in such a remote area that even basic line communication with Battalion Headquarters, nearly 1500 km away, was absent. Today’s briefing to the CO was thus crucial. And since our Assault Team had done the Unit proud, my Second-in-Command, Major Rajesh Sheoran (my right hand through those times), and I were eager to meet the CO and our fellow officers and men at the earliest. It was not about basking in glory; it was about announcing that we had all returned by the grace of Maa Durge Bhawani, heads held high.


Before I left home, my wife told me that she was preparing my favourite “Rajma-Chawal” and she hoped that I would return for a timely meal. I nodded affirmatively as I said goodbye.


After an engrossing interaction with the CO, we met our other comrades. The CO reminded the Adjutant that Major Rajesh Sheoran had not been pipped formally. He was promoted to Major's rank a couple of months ago, but the customary pipping by the CO and Subedar Major could not be done. The adjutant promptly organised it. And as is the tradition, we moved to the Officers' Mess for an impromptu "Pre-Lunch Drinks (PLD)".


The "Band of Brothers" from our unit were together after a long time. As we celebrated Rajesh Sheoran's much-deserved promotion, we also caught up on our individual and collective battle experiences and everything under the sun that had happened since May 1999. The PLD continued into lunchtime. The Dining-in members of the Mess asked the married officers to stay on for lunch. A request that was impossible to turn down. The CO and everyone stayed on, and so did I.


Back then, there were no telephones in our residences. And I did not have the heart to send someone three kilometres from the unit to inform my wife about the unplanned delay in my return. "I will tell her when I get home," I said to myself.


It was 4:30 pm when I reached my residence. She was still waiting for me and had not taken a morsel. For her, this wait was probably as difficult to fathom as the wait when I was far away in the barren Ladakh mountains. She was visibly disappointed since she expected me to keep the date, at least this time.


I did tell her the reason, but I probably could not explain the rationale well. The bonhomie and camaraderie amongst those who go to battle together is to be experienced and understood, but perhaps difficult to explain, I discerned.


Over the years, she realised that we had sworn our allegiance to the Olive Greens well before we got married to our soulmates. We were "Married to the Army First”!!


As time went by, she not only absolved me for not keeping that afternoon date but also remained my pillar of strength and source of inspiration through the rough and tumble of life in the Army till I hung up my boots. She, too, was married to the Olive Greens!!


Post Script: Major Rajesh Sheoran rose to the rank of a Brigadier. With his astounding leadership qualities, positivity, spirited attitude, and heart of gold, he touched so many lives within and outside Uniform. Unfortunately, he left us too soon for his heavenly abode on 10 June 2025 while still in service. He shall always be remembered. Rest in peace, my brother.

(The writer is an Indian Army veteran and Vice President CRM, ANSEC HR services Ltd. He is a skydiver and a specialist in Security and Risk management. Views personal.)

Comments

bottom of page