A daughter steps into dad’s boots

Brig Jagbir Singh Grewal (retd)

DAUGHTERS are adorable. They display a high sense of responsibility and devotion, and reveal tremendous grit to attain goals. 

My daughter was well ensconced in her job as a specialist at a Civil Hospital. Most evenings, she was at home, savouring home food and living in the comforts that only a home can provide. Suddenly, she felt the pangs of monotony and decided to try something more adventurous and innovative. She decided to seek a commission in the Army Medical Corps. There were voices of dissent from her colleagues, who suggested that emigrating abroad was a better, lucrative option. 

Nothing could deter her; she being a symbol of a renaissance that has set in women folk, revealing a new wave of transition and attitudinal changes. 

My son had developed a passion for the uniform, eagerly understood the Army ethos and the way of life. It was thus obvious that he would choose the Army as a career. I dissuaded him.

It was a tough life. Having had more than my share of strenuous field tenures and the thought of moving from one station to another, stuffing  liveries, appliances, gadgets and household goods in the earmarked packing material was a nightmare. Children’s migration from one school to another was not easy. They had to start all over again, make new friends, adapt afresh, and by the time they settled in, it was time to move on again.

There were long separations from the family during difficult field tenures, when the ‘lady of the house’ had to shift to ‘separated accommodation’ and manage on her own. All this, coupled with early retirement and hard competitive promotional avenues, were dissuasive factors.

To top it, a bigwig acquired my land for his factory. By the time I came on leave from a remote border area, most formalities were over, notices served in absentia, land demarcated by revenue officials and my lease land-holder had been stalled from further tilling. Claims that soldiers’ representations were to be heard were mere lip service. It was then that I decided to motivate my son to choose a cushy career. So, he decided to study further and moved on in life. 

But I regretted my decision. It had left me with remorse, now that there was no one to represent the family in the armed forces. He would have shaped into a dashing, well-motivated Army officer.

My daughter changed it. Asked by the interview board about her decision to leave her civil job, she told them of her resolve to become the next generation Army officer. As parents, we were bewildered, aghast, but delighted. She took my ‘stars’ and my grandfather’s split pins that he had used for his epaulettes. She wore the uniform with aplomb, came forward and gave me a crisp salute —  “Jai Hind, Sir!” 

Indeed, a worthy daughter had stepped into her father’s shoes.