A Lifetime’s Work and Two Deaths

‘‘In 1989, I accompanied the peacekeeping forces to Sri Lanka. In January, I started getting telegrams about my father’s ill-health. I asked for leave, but it was April before I was actually granted leave…. By the time I could return home, he had expired,’’ recalls Bhatnagar. ‘‘Since then, I have been living with the guilt of not being there for my father when he needed me most.’’

Though he still tries to rationalise the AMC decision, it doesn’t help. ‘‘I know the forces have cut down on manpower, so leave is never sanctioned when sought,’’ Bhatnagar says.

Then came the second cruel blow. While he was stationed in Gwalior, his 19-year-old daughter was run down by a truck. ‘‘I had to take voluntary retirement a year before my tenure ended and stay back to fight for justice. There was no way my department and the nature of my job would have allowed me to do that,’’ says Bhatnagar.

Next to these two huge tragedies, the subedar’s other grievances seem inconsequential. ‘‘But the fact that one was never at one place for more than two years meant that the children were always being uprooted,’’ says Bhatnagar. ‘‘Still, it was better than being away from the family, like when I was posted in Leh.’’

Even with retirement, Bhatnagar’s grievances with the AMC haven’t died, thanks to the measly pension. ‘‘I joined the services with a salary of Rs 90, now after so many years, I receive just Rs 900 more,’’ he says. ‘‘I became so depressed that I withdrew completely, and confined myself to home. But the monetary circumstances were such I had to go and look for work again. Please don’t mention my name — then they’ll stop the pension,’’ he ends.