Explosive Thrills: An Octogenarian Looks Back

By Bhaskar R. Dave

The Book Explosive Thrills-An Octogenarian Looks Back is a combination of the professional hazards and thrills the author experienced in his life and his career. Looking back over the eighty seven years of his life nostalgic memories of the long years he spent in the Department of Explosives come flooding into his mind. As his career revolved around Explosives naturally situations of risk were plenty. The writer had occasion to visit a large number of places in the country and had some spine-chilling experiences some of which are narrated here. His youth too was full of chivalrous happenings.
Today all these spine tingling anecdotes of his life have taken shape to form this book. The book has the additional flavour of smacking of our rich Indian cultural heritage.

It will make interesting reading. Written in the genre of Memoirs, the reminiscences are both public and private that took place in the author?s life. Written from the first person account the author in a brilliant manner snatches several moments from his life. In this sense the author is a memoirist and comes across as a motivational guru. His memoirs are an insight into his philosophy of karma and are a positive guide to the young and old alike on safety in life.

The book is written in a simple, practical and heartfelt manner and compels one to read further.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Notion Press
• Release date: Feb 8, 2013
• ISBN: 9789383185382

Book preview

Conclusion

|Om Ganeshaya Namaha|| ||OM Gayatraya Namaha|| ||OM Kuldevaya Namaha ||

GLIMPSES OF MY LIFE

At the dawn of 25th June 1926, on the Vat Savitri Poornima day of the Jyestha¹ month, the Sun God spread his golden rays on the earth when a child was born at Bhavnagar² in Saurashtra, Gujarat, India. The child was named Bhaskar. The parents of the child, Shri Ratilal Sawailal Dave and Shrimati Kamala Gauri Ratilal Dave were proud and happy as their first male child had come into their lives. I, Shri Bhaskar Ratilal Dave will now narrate the events of my life briefly and then reveal some explosive thrills that have peppered my life!

I was told that I started speaking rather late in my childhood. I grew up much pampered in a disciplined sort of way.

My father, the eldest son of the Sawailal family was a tall and a handsome man who was married fairly early to my mother, Kamala, the only daughter of Late Shri Har Govind Bhatt, an important officer of the princely state of Bhavnagar whose work was to liaison with the British rulers.

My mother often recounted tales of her being indulged by her doting father and only brother in various ways. As a child she had pleaded for a particular dress. The daughter had only to ask and her wishes always became horses which she rode often! Shri Har Govind Bhatt, my maternal grandfather, was the political agent of the Maharaja of Bhavnagar to the British Government. They (my mother’s parents) also lived for some time in Mumbai then, somewhere near the Bombay Museum or opposite the Royal Talkies at Fort in Bombay, I was told; and as early as the beginning of the 20th century, in the early 1910s, my mother was sent to an English medium school where she learnt to read and write in English.

She went to an English school called ‘Chandaramji English School’ near CP Tank, Bombay, in the good old days of the first decade of the twentieth century!

My mother had even shared with me some of her memories of school life showing me some of her books and I was thrilled to see her almost perfect hand writing. Both my parents were fond of reading and would devour whatever they could get, whatever they could lay their hands on; books on spiritual matters, moral and political volumes apart from the regular dose of the daily newspaper editorials! My mother’s vast reading and her interest in ayurveda, made her popular as the local medic whose opinion on illnesses and their remedies were taken by all around!

My father’s mother died very early, while my father was still a little boy. He was sent to his maternal uncle, his ‘mama’. This uncle, my father’s ‘mama’ was a doctor who lived and practiced medicine at Bhavnagar.

I was always keen to know little anecdotes associated with my parents’ lives and both my father and mother often snatched these little details from their lives and shared them with me. These have gone on to enrich my life further…they have showed me what life is all about and have taught me to value life and to thank God for all that I have, for all that we have!

As a boy, my father had to walk early morning everyday, to a well that was two kilometers away, wash all clothes, bathe and then return home with a bucket full of water for drinking. My grand father, Shri Savailal Dave was the Mukhyaji of our village (a mukhyaji was the official head of the village for all practical purposes and it was the Mukhyaji who was asked to intervene in all matters of disputes, whether social, religious, cultural, domestic, etc.) He was a tall, fairly dark man with a sturdy body. He always wore a turban on his head; it was said that a man wore his dignity about him, and then the turban was and still is a man’s symbol of his dignity and the people of Gujarat wore huge turbans on their heads! He was well known for his physical prowess all around and was often invited to display his physical prowess and people were always in awe of him! No one ever dared to raise his voice over my grandfather’s; both out of respect for him and also as the people around were terrified lest they annoyed him.

One of the many anecdotes relating to his physical strength was that he could and used to drag a plough by his teeth! This man of great strength and prowess was also known for his fiery temper; there were rare occasions when this man of steel would flare up, but those occasions were seldom!

My father too, who worked for the Bhavnagar State Railways as a Station Master, had to wear a cap which it was customary then to do so while at work. It was a round black cap which fascinated the little boy in me often. I have a photograph of me as a young lad wearing my father’s black cap which I am supposed to have donned with immense pride!

One special incident has left a deep imprint in my life. Once a businessman who had some merchandise booked in an entire goods wagon at the station where my father was posted, it was a huge consignment that required an entire wagon, had to have his consignment collected. When he came to collect his huge freight, he said he did not have sufficient money in order to have his goods released and so pleaded with my father that he may be given the consignment saying he would come back and repay the money to my father in all certainty if only my father could have faith in the man! My father, a man of integrity and strong character took the business man for his word and gave him his parcel expecting him to be back with the money shortly. But when the dishonest businessman did not turn up, even after several days after having collected his huge parcel, my father went up to bear the loss incurred by the railways by paying up, all for helping a man pretending to be in distress!! Repaying the amount was a big blow to my father, it was a big amount but he would not hear of the railways bearing the loss and so he paid up! So much for honesty and integrity, precious gems that enhanced a man’s character!

Looking back, I am certainly proud of the fact that I am a descendent of a lineage that stood for honour, integrity and dignity of the self above all else and I have inherited these great virtues from my parents and will forever remain indebted to my lineage! I am proud to declare that I have acquired some extraordinary genes from my valued ancestry!

Thus begins the story of a man who has always been above all else, a human being. He has striven all his life, in his waking sense to be a good human being! God created men. He created men as human beings. He made man in his own image and wished them to be above all else: human, humane!!

Humanity conveys a world of meaning; there is kindness, gentleness, compassion, empathy, altruism and still much more. This is the very root, the essence of humanity. But in spite of this noble and glamorous meaning attached to the term that human beings should be above all else kind and gentle… it is astonishing that human beings still behave the other way. For life, for living, food is the very first essential requirement. Food is needed to make this human engine function; it is needed for every activity in life, for eating, for mental activity like thinking, etc. Such food is provided to him by his parents, as a matter of fact from childhood to adulthood his nutrition is provided to him by his parents. People around him show how important his parents have been to him in his life. His mother gives him birth, she gives him nourishment and his physical and mental growth as a child is mainly attributed to his mother. God has endowed the mother with extra-ordinary skills, He has vested a unique and an unmatched responsibility on the mother and that is to nurture the child in such a way that he grows into a truly humane being. Every human being needs training. The mother also needs training. The truth is that humanity essentially begins with the mother first and the father later. A serious thought needs to be given here to this attribute of a mother; her ability to make the human beings at large humane in the universe!

My father, who worked for the railways, was then working in the Bhavnagar State Railways. He was transferred rather frequently and was allotted duties at different Railway stations. He finally retired as Train Controller at Bhavnagar Para, (a sub-station of Bhavnagar). Because of my father’s frequent transfers to various stations, I was perhaps both fortunate and unfortunate in that I received my education at different places. Unfortunate in that I had to face a lot of problems in the frequent changes, but over-all there is a world of good fortune associated in seeing new places and inter-acting with different people of different places. Often, I had to go by train to a school at another station other than the one where my father was working.

Memories of my childhood are clear to me and I have often enjoyed being nostalgic about the good old