The Sarkari Mussalman by Lt. Gen. Zameer Uddin Shah
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I first heard of the author when he had been appointed as VC of AMU. I wondered how a fauji would manage the rambunctious crowd at the hoary institution, where the ebullient students are always in a state of ferment. The press kept us informed (not always accurately, according to him) about his authoritarian attempts to suppress the mutinous atmosphere. That is when I learnt that he too was an alumnus of St Josephs, Nainital – albeit nine years my senior.
More about that later; first the book. It is simply and lucidly written, with none of usual Army bombast. I only wish the photos were of better quality – the earlier ones are grainy and not even suitable for a family album (e.g., Photo No. 28) and the later ones have been luridly photoshopped. There should have more details about his soldiering, unless these are operational secrets. He rightly says that retired faujis are a very valuable human resource and should be usefully employed in imparting their knowledge, experience and skills in nation building.
Gen Shah should not have been so circumspect about detailing his experiences during the communal riots in Gujarat. What else was this book for (hence the four star rating)? He should have laid bare those ‘wounds’ he talks about. However, it was fascinating to read about his encounters with the “Actress bhi kabhi HRD Minister thi.” What were those words from PM Modi that assuaged his feelings after one of these encounters?
His description of his time at St Joseph’s took me on a nostalgic trip my school days - to thrillers by Alistair MacLean, well-thumbed brown-paper covered Midwood books, weekly outings to town on Thursdays to watch movies at Capitol while munching 10 paise worth of peanuts. As he mentions, our potpourri of cultures and religions turned us into responsible citizens. I can vouch for the secular nature of “Sem”. Our houses may have been named after Christian saints, but all Indian festivals were celebrated. I can still taste the fruits we got on Janamashthmi. The ‘other’ were our traditional and rabid rivals Sherwood. Alas! socials with the ladies of “Sonn” (St Mary’s Convent) had ceased in our time – I would attribute the escapades of our seniors (the author included) leading to this sad state of affairs.
Incidentally, a trip to "Sem" a couple of years ago was a big disappointment. The place was in a shabby and decrepit state. The original Irish Brothers are now an extinct lot and their indigenous replacements are from the familiar Bhartiya milieu of lazy corrupt individuals.

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