The Rebel

By Col Neerav Bhatnagar

Join Col. Ravi in finding the answers to these questions and more, as he leads a struggle inspired and steered by an old genial Swiss billionaire, to resurrect the lives of the poor people living in misery in Mohoba.

Starting from the snowy mountains of the Alps, as he traverses across geographies and history and embarks on this path of struggle, taking on the mighty Government machinery head-on, he gets the answers to his questions, and to his shock, also unravels some hidden secrets.

After all, a small body of determined spirits, fired by an unquenchable faith in their mission can alter the course of history.

"

• Language: English
• Publisher: One Point Six Technologies Pvt Ltd
• Release date: Feb 19, 2020
• ISBN: 9789389759495

Col Neerav Bhatnagar

"Neerav Bhatnagar, an ex-army officer, an alumnus of the prestigiousNational Defence Academy, Defence Service Staff College and of XLRI,Jamshedpur. He also has a Diploma in Psychometric Evaluation and IndustrialPsychology. After having served in the army for 22 years, he took prematureretirement and worked on senior positions in reputed companies and as anOrganisation Development Consultant and Corporate Trainer, helping MSMEs intheir business growth and trained almost 15000 employees on behavioral aspects.He has also been associated with CII (Confederation of Indian Industry) as anassessor for National HR Excellence Award and for Business Excellence Model.He was an infantry officer and served in active operations in Kashmir as well as inSri Lanka, as part of IPKF.He has also authored one book titled Army Tales; A Collection of ShortStories published by Leadstart Publications."

Book preview

1

PROVIDENCE

What!!! Mr. Vincent is on the ventilator?! exclaimed Ravi in surprise, holding the phone close to his ears. But it was just yesterday, that I spoke to him. He was absolutely fine.

It was the result of a head injury he suffered while taking a walk in the garden, and has slipped into a coma since then, Ms. Nora, sounded shaky as she replied. Nora had been taking care of the back-office operations of Mr. Vincent’s businesses for the last 20 years. Although she was half his age, she took care of him as his mother.

No one can believe here. You know Colonel, such a hail and hearty man is struggling for life. It’s absolutely unimaginable that this has happened, she sobbed.

Nora! I can understand your emotions in these trying times, but I have seen him many a time going into a trance. Some times for hours together. Do not worry, he will be fine, Ravi reassured her. I will take the first possible flight and be there.

Yes, okay, she replied in a tremulous voice and hung up. Ravi slumped into the chair. The other staff members, hearing Ravi speaking loudly, stood outside his office watching him as they had never seen the Colonel losing his cool. Mrs. Renuka Devi, one of the teachers, entered his room but before she could ask him, he waved with his hand indicating everything was fine. She retraced her steps and no one disturbed him thereafter.

His mind was now on military mode. He was trained to prepare a check list before executing a plan.

I need to first get hold of my travel agent and get the tickets to Switzerland. I already have a VISA, so that wouldn’t be a problem. Inform Gopal to take charge of the Kendra, during my absence, inform Anita to be ready, that I can do after I reach Delhi. I must also inform Yeshwant bhai, but most probably Nora would have already informed him…But I must also inform him about my plan…may be he would like to travel with me…I must be with Mr Vincent at the earliest.

Having done all that was necessary, he thought of leaving at the earliest. He had to first travel to his home at Delhi, almost an 8-hour drive from Mohoba.

The old man has got me stuck in this God-forsaken place and is now lying in a comatose state. A mysterious old man, we tried our best to nail him but he was smart, and instead, he fixed us – I am stuck at Mohoba and my dear friend arrested and out on bail for attempted murder. I hope the truth doesn’t get buried with him. Oh!!! What about that diary he had once talked of… Why did he say that he would pass it on to me only after his demise? And what information did it contain that he did not want to reveal and said it can disturb our lives? I must get that, at any cost. Before someone else...The diary, I am sure, will help unravel the mystery around the old man.

Ravi’s mind drifted thousands of miles away as he put the car on auto mode. He was, by now, well acquainted with the route to Delhi, having travelled umpteen times in the last one year from Mohoba. Even the location and number of speed breakers and potholes were on his fingertips.

Mr. Vincent, for his age, was very fit. Just eight months ago, he toiled hard with all of us and guided us at every step. It’s too early for him, to leave the world and he has a family history of longevity. His father is over 100, his grandfather lived to a century. I am sure, he will recover. There have been many instances when patients have come back to life even after being on a ventilator for weeks.

The old memories came alive. It was a sheer coincidence, that he had met him in Switzerland, rather a divine intervention, as Mr. Vincent would have described it.

It was March 2015, beginning of spring season in Switzerland that he had met Mr. Vincent, yet again, after a long span of some 37 years. Ravi had travelled to Switzerland with his wife Anita to celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary. He wanted to make this trip a memorable one. They had been planning this trip for a year; cutting down their expenses wherever possible and saving every penny. Ravi did not want to make any compromises. He wished to give his beloved wife the best possible experience- stay in a luxurious hotel, comfortable sightseeing, and lovely food at the best possible places.

They landed in Zurich on 25 March’15 by noon and drove down to Altdorf, a historical town bestowed with immense scenic beauty. The town is located in the Canton of Uri, hardly 66 km from Zurich.

It was a sunny day but a gentle cool breeze was blowing. The sun was not as piercing as it was in India this time of the year. It reminded him of his army days when he was posted in Poonch close to the Pir Panjal Pass, which remained covered in snow for most of the year. The sunny days would give them all a reprieve from the extreme cold weather.

It took them an hour to reach the hotel. Tired from travelling for the last 24 hours, Ravi was feeling dopey and the check-in formalities irritated him. The staff at the front desk, however, was well trained and they handled it deftly, probably empathizing with him. Once inside the room, Ravi hit the bed and slept like a log. He got up late in the evening, had light dinner with some wine and once again went off to sleep.

It took almost 18 hours of sleep to get over the jet lag. The next morning, after finishing breakfast, both of them decided to use the staircase instead of the elevator to take the waiting cab. The weather was cool and walking would keep them warm, Ravi thought.

As he approached the front desk to hand over the room keys, he bumped into an elderly man who had suddenly turned around, and, as a result, dropped the books that he was carrying. Ravi, clearly embarrassed, apologised to the old man and bent down to pick up those books.

I hope you are not hurt, Ravi asked regretfully.

Oh! I am fine, son, it was my fault. Hope you are okay, the old man said politely and affectionately touched Ravi’s shoulders.

Oh, yes. Thanks.

Ravi glanced at the old man. He appeared to be in his late 60s, dressed in a grey tweed blazer over a maroon T-Shirt and was wearing sunglasses. Meanwhile, the executive at the front desk also came running and asked the old man about his well-being.

Anita! Did you notice that? Ravi whispered after the old man had left.

What? Yes, the mountains are so beautiful. She was elated, watching snow-covered mountains and was oblivious to what had happened in the lobby.

I am surprised ! A Swiss gentleman carrying Books; Indian an Emerging Power and Worshiping False Gods. He also had a bunch of Indian Newspapers, perhaps Times of India. Why would he be reading about India? Most of the Swiss people, you know, speak either German or French, very few speak English. said Ravi sounding puzzled.

What is so great about it? Maybe he is in love with India or has some business interests? Anita argued casually as if there was nothing unusual to this.

"No, it doesn’t appear so. I happened to glance over the headlines of the newspaper that he was carrying; it was something about Namisha Jaiswal. Are you aware of her?

Nope, I am not. Look over there, the sun is making those peaks glitter. She was still engrossed admiring the scenic beauty.

Namisha Jaiswal’s NGO is under the scanner of Enforcement Directorate and CBI for receiving foreign funds and misusing them for fomenting trouble in Gujarat, Ravi continued lost in his own thoughts.

How do you know that he was interested in Namisha?

I cannot afford to be as naïve as you can be. How can someone, in Switzerland be interested in reading an Indian newspaper? And these kinds of books! He has to be either a diplomat or some intelligence sleuth, Ravi mumbled and then as an afterthought turned back. Let me find out from the reception, they would be able to tell me something about the gentleman. Ravi sprinted back towards the hotel reception.

Where are you going? The cab is waiting for us, Anita shouted from behind. She was visibly irritated.

The problem with intelligence guys is they are always suspicious. You are chasing an old man who can cause no harm either to your country or to you. I don’t know what to do with this man. Neither does he enjoy life nor will he let others, she muttered loud enough for Ravi to hear.

These folks are important in preserving our freedom, sweetheart. I have retired but I am never off duty. I still have a responsibility towards the nation and its people. He spoke in a hushed voice keeping his index finger on his lips indicating Anita to lower down her volume.

Yes, but when one starts viewing everything with suspicion, one would only find flaws.

Someone also said that suspicion is a virtue as long as its objective is the public good, and as long as it stays within proper bounds. Anyways, why don’t you go and sit in the cab, dear? I will just join you, Ravi spoke agitatedly and hurriedly walked towards the reception.

There were still a few tourists hanging around the front desk. Ravi somehow negotiated his way to the desk, looked around and found the same executive who had rushed to help the old gentleman. Ravi asked the executive about the old man. The front desk executive looked at him curiously, and then recognizing him, said, Oh! That old man, he is our Chairman, Mr. Chris Vincent. A great soul.

Yes, yes, I agree with you, said Ravi, nodding his head and continued, but is he from Switzerland?

Of course! He is from Switzerland. He lives in Zurich, barely 66kms from here.

You want something from him, he asked.

No no. I just wanted to inquire. He was an old man, just worried he might have got hurt, he replied and moved off towards the waiting cab. This caused more suspense in his mind. Why the hell would a Swiss citizen, that too a businessman, be reading India – an Emerging Power and Worshipping False Gods? He shook his head in disbelief.

The former is fine because being a businessman, he might be looking at greener pastures, to expand his business but the later one; Worshipping False Gods, and the newspapers carrying news of Namisha, make no sense. Still engrossed in his thoughts, he came and got in the cab.

Everything fine, James Bond or has the mystery further deepened? Ravi dismissed the sarcasm and preferred to remain quiet.

It’s intriguing! Why should a foreigner read Worshipping False Gods and be interested in Namisha’s news? This book was written by Arun Shourie and it’s a sort of comparison between Bapu and Ambedkar’s role during the freedom movement.

Mr. Arun Shourie belonged to the rightist group, which since its inception in the early 1900s in response to the growing Muslim fundamentalism, had been critical of Gandhiji’s methods and been blaming him for everything that went wrong with the country. That ranged from the partition of India, hanging of Bhagat Singh, killing of Hindus during communal riots and even its security policy post-independence. They have been propagating that the freedom that came to India came from the efforts of leaders like Bose and extremists and Gandhi had a very small role to play and rather some of their Pracharaks (Preachers) called him a British agent.

Ravi, himself, was never an admirer of Bapu. He considered his beliefs, his glorification of poverty, as the biggest stumbling block in India’s growth that gave rise to Khadi clad hypocrites of the Congress party, who themselves lived a lavish life, kept the countrymen poor and exploited Gandhi’s name amongst the poor, for their own electoral prospects.

Arun Shourie, surprisingly in this book, is very much against the views that his party long-held, praised Gandhi and was critical of Dr Ambedkar. He not only highlighted Dr Ambedkar’s negative role during the freedom movement but also portrayed him as self-centred and an opportunist leader who had a tunnel vision.

But there remained a few doubts in Ravi’s mind. One, the timing of the book and two, the motive of a hardcore rightist in praising Bapu. He had felt that when Dr Ambedkar was being projected as a messiah by some political parties for their electoral prospects, perhaps, it was necessary to objectively assess Dr Ambedkar’s role. Ravi, therefore, found this book politically motivated because its sole purpose, despite all the extensive research work, was to discredit Dr Ambedkar.

So, why was Mr. Vincent reading this then? What could be his interest? And why should he be interested in Indian politics?These questions kept crossing his mind the whole day.

He had made up his mind to enquire more about the old man after getting back to the hotel. As he entered the hotel lounge in the evening, he saw the same old man walking along with a few others, probably the officials of his company. Ravi rushed towards him, leaving Anita near the elevator.

The old man smiled as he saw Ravi approaching. Ravi, too, smiled back and indicated with his fingers, typical Indian style, joining the index finger with the thumb, that he needed a minute to talk to him. Astonishingly, the old man understood his signal and stopped.

Good evening! You are… I suppose the same gentleman whom I barged into this morning. I hope I have not hurt you. Although I am not big enough to do that, I am an old man, he said laughing, opening his arms wide open to show his moderate frame. It was an amazing childlike innocent laugh and it was contagious.

No, no, I did not get hurt. Ravi joined him in his laughter.

If you do not mind, can I ask you something? Without waiting for his affirmation, he continued, those books that you were carrying today, were they yours? Ravi enquired awkwardly.

"Hmmm! Which books? The old man asked, thoughtfully.

Worshipping False Gods and India – An Emerging Power. You were carrying these books in the morning, and they fell on the floor there, Ravi, pointed his finger towards the spot where they had bumped into each other.

Oh! Yes, yes, those, they were my books, he replied, but then as an afterthought said, not exactly mine, my Indian friend gave it to me… Oh! We have not introduced each other. I am Louis Vincent. He extended his hand. It was evident that he did not want to discuss the books any further.

Ravi, holding the old man’s hand gently, introduced himself and looked straight into his eyes. Good to meet you, it seems you are in the military, while shaking his hands warmly, Mr. Vincent remarked.

How did you guess? Ravi questioned, although delighted, that his soldierly bearing is so apparent.

Your physical bearing and tough hands. To Ravi, Mr. Vincent’s soft hands felt as if he had been living in luxury.

In India, I suppose, that’s the only organisation that has been able to sustain its credibility. Isn’t that true? Mr. Vincent quipped, raising his eyebrows.

I am proud to be a part of the armed forces which is indeed the finest organisation in India. Ravi against the wishes of his parents had joined the army after completing his Bachelors in Technology. Although he was not very tall, barely 5 ft 8 inches but had an athletic build and a face that had very prominent jaws and chinky eyes, many a time people took him to be from North-Eastern part of India and he also took pride in that, as after his tenure in the North East, he had fallen in love with them.

This time Ravi had a good look of Mr. Vincent. Almost 5 ft 10inches tall, slim, grey soft hair neatly combed and partitioned just above the left eye but since they were soft, they were falling on his forehead, thereby giving him a boyish look despite being almost in his 60s. He had blue almond-shaped eyes that appeared alert and full of energy, an oval face and a thin golden moustache that ended just at the corner of his upper lip. He appeared to be affectionate and humble.

However, what enchanted Ravi was his childlike laugh, it was innocent and contagious that could disarm even his arch rivals and bring a smile on their faces. There is nothing that so lays bare a man’s character as his laugh. Ravi was floored. He was reminded of what the front desk executive had mentioned in the morning about his Chairman; truly a great man.

Ravi got a better look of his face and the eyes, now that Mr. Vincent had removed his glasses. He felt as if he had met the gentleman before. Ostensibly, in India, one doesn’t get very many opportunities to work with foreigners but Ravi, having served abroad for a few months, on an assignment, had interacted with some. He dug deep into his memory, but could not place him. And then suddenly, it struck him.

Mr. Vincent, have you ever visited Delhi, maybe in 1978? enquired Ravi, almost screaming in excitement, as if he had found a lost friend.

Yes. I don’t remember the exact year now, but surely, I had visited Delhi on a business trip, Mr. Vincent replied, thinking hard.

Yes!!! said Ravi in excitement. We have met! You remember a young boy who got down from a local government bus after a squabble with the bus conductor? The Boy had objected to the conductor’s corrupt practice of issuing old used tickets to the passengers. The boy refused to accept the old ticket and demanded a fresh ticket. The conductor stopped the bus, thereafter and asked the boy to get down, the passengers booed him and asked him not to waste their time. The boy had to walk home in that hot weather. You also got down with him and had a long chat with that young boy."

Ravi narrated the incident that happened in 1978 and looked curiously at Mr. Vincent, hoping that he would recall the incident.

Yes! Are you the same young boy?!!! Mr. Vincent shouted in excitement. Unbelievable! Ooh! Good Lord... What a great coincidence!

I had offered you to come to Switzerland then, but you refused, and you are coming now, after so many years. He laughed once again and patted Ravi on his shoulders.

It’s great to meet you, Ravi. Is that beautiful lady your wife, the one looking towards us?

And before Ravi could say anything, Mr. Vincent started walking towards her. Oh, let me talk to her.

Seeing Mr. Vincent coming, Anita smiled back.

Namaskar! Mr. Vincent folded his hands and greeted her.

Anita was taken by surprise. "Namskarji," she also quickly folded her hands.

You are Mrs. Ravi. I am Vincent, he said introducing himself.

You know, I met your husband when he had, I suppose, just got into his engineering. He looked at Ravi, for confirmation. Ravi nodded in affirmation.

He is a brave boy. You are lucky to have such a man as your husband. He chuckled and blessed her by placing his hand lovingly on Anita’s head.

You selected him, or he selected you? He asked, once again laughing in his usual childlike innocence.

We selected each other, Anita replied promptly.

Hmm, nice one! Witty lady you are! Good. Mr. Vincent once again laughed.

So, Mr. Ravi, nice meeting you. You are here for a week, I suppose?

Hmm, yes, I am here in Switzerland for a week, he quipped.

And by the way, are you still in the army? You had told me that you would be joining the armed forces.

You got a great memory, Mr. Vincent, I must say.

You know, one doesn’t get to meet spirited young men very often, that’s why. Mr. Vincent laughed, throwing his head back.

Yes, I was in the army. But then I left after completing my compulsory 20 years as a Colonel. But hats off to you, you remember all this so vividly.

Mr. Vincent patted on his shoulders, I may be an old man but I have a young mind.Once again burst into laughter.

So, Colonel, we will catch up sometime, he said raising his eyebrows. And then, took out his wallet and handed over his visiting card to him. Call me up anytime, in case you need any help. I will be there. God bless you both, enjoy your holidays. He shook hands and started moving.

Ravi, realising that Mr. Vincent had shrewdly digressed the attention from the books, called out to him before he could slip away.

Mr. Vincent just one question – How closely do you follow India’s affairs? enquired Ravi in a polite tone, not wanting to antagonise the old man.

Not much, Mr. Vincent said, raising his hands wide as if he disliked this question.

But it seems like you are fond of India.

Mr. Vincent stood for a while, looking at him blankly with a mysterious smile on his face.

There were deep furrows on his forehead, his eyes narrowed. He took a deep breath, it seemed as if he wanted to say something but preferred to restrain himself. I am wondering, as to what purpose would those books and Indian newspapers serve you? Ravi questioned again.

But, why should you be wondering? Mr. Vincent replied, sounding shaky. "India is one of the best-emerging markets and trying to surface out of the woods and of course Gandhiji was a great leader. It’s always a great experience to learn more about him, he explained. Shouldn’t you be proud that foreigners are now taking note of India’s development story, instead of writing stereotypical views? questioned Mr. Vincent now regaining his composure, in his pleasing and polite voice. Have you read these books, Colonel?"

Oh, yes! I have read both of them, replied Ravi enthusiastically. Reading is my hobby. Although I wouldn’t claim to be a scholar. I love reading. Military history and International relations, that’s why I asked what purpose would these books serve you?

But then none of these books should interest you, in that case. Mr. Vincent was quick to once again put Ravi on the defensive.

I know, but India an Emerging Power does serve. Ravi defended. But I must appreciate your interest in India.

Despite being a businessman, who normally only think of making money, I am a voracious reader, too, like you. Isn’t that unusual? Mr Vincent laughed but avoided eye contact. He was now visibly uncomfortable.

See you, Colonel. Goodbye, and enjoy your holidays.He waved his hands and excused himself, hastily climbing the staircase, instead of taking the elevator.

Ravi stood for a while watching Mr. Vincent climbing the stairs. He was not convinced of Mr. Vincent’s response.

The old man is trying to hide something. He surely appeared to be uncomfortable.

Ravi was commissioned into corps of signals but later on switched over to Intelligence corps of the army and, before taking premature retirement, had a brief stint with India’s premier intelligence agency R&AW, so he was a keen observer, a great listener, well trained to get the information from the toughest nut, and of course had a habit of looking at everything suspiciously like any good intelligence officer does.

Mr. Louis Vincent, in some way or the other, has connections within India and keenly follows its affairs. He deliberately avoided answering my questions. Is he aware of how caste plays an important role in Indian elections? Why is the caste conflict important to him? Why did he visit India in the past and how often has he done so and why? There is surely more to it than what meets the eye. I think I must find out more about him.

What a charming person he is, laughing all the time and cheerful, full of life and you were calling him a spy...you are still a poor judge of people. He has gone, what are you waiting for now? Anita nudged him from behind.

Oh. Yes, let’s go…I was just...Okay, yes, let’s go to the room, he stammered and started walking because he knew if he started disclosing his doubts, he would be inviting her wrath once again. But he had not given up yet. He quickly had a bath, changed and left the room, telling Anita that he would be back in an hour. He sat down quietly in one corner of the terrace, facing the snow-covered mountain range. It was chilly but the electric heater kept next to him provided enough heat to keep his body warm.

I am confirmed that this gentleman takes a keen interest in Indian affairs. But the question is why? An old Swiss businessman, what has he got to do with India?

Ravi opened up the Google search engine and searched Mr. Louis Vincent. Google opened up a plethora of information about him. He was the only son of Mr.Chris Vincent and grandson of David Vincent. They were an affluent business family of Switzerland, having multiple businesses of manufacturing scientific equipment, watches and also hotels spread over many cities of Europe.

But, why would such a rich man be involved in fomenting trouble in India, that too an old man?

It’s a common practice for intelligence agencies to use big and mighty as fronts to hide their actions. Never know, he may be in league with some intelligence agency who might be using him to extend financial help to Indian NGOs and even political outfits having vested interests. The intelligence world is full of complexities and can throw up great surprises.

Two years ago, there was an article published in The New Yorker titled ‘Covert Operations’ that revealed the secretive network supported by the billionaire industrialists, whose organization vowed to spend an unprecedented eight hundred million dollars in the elections. The latest reports also indicate that many foreign agencies funded the protests in Tuticorin against the nuclear power plant that was planned in South Indian state.

So, is it not possible that Mr. Vincent is also being used by some agency to foment trouble in India or to bring supportive political outfits back to power in India?

Ravi thought to himself, trying to justify his suspicion on Vincent. After all, Ravi himself was involved in developing such assets in neighbouring countries and therefore was well acquainted with the way intelligence agencies operate around the world. What a great coincidence that he met Mr. Vincent today, he thought, but then, suddenly,