"Born to Chattarpati and Damyanti Tara, Ashok belonged to a fairly large family with two older brothers and one younger sister. Ashok and his siblings grew up with the stories of World War II as their father had donned the military raiment during the war. Their learning didn’t end with just the stories of the war; they were also reared on a strong set of values and encouraged to believe in what they knew, learned or heard rather than on any unfounded and irrational fears or superstitions.
The Tara children were intrepid and always on the lookout for adventure, unlike most children of their age who tended to be more timid. On their way to school from their house at Baird Place, the Tara brothers took a shortcut through a graveyard. While most other children either avoided this route or passed hurriedly through it, Ashok and Kirti would stroll leisurely past the gravestones and, on their way home, would even tarry a while to play marbles in the quietness of the cemetery. As most people in their neighbourhood were steeped in superstition, Ashok and Kirti would often come across earthen pots containing fruits or coins being burned with herbs in the middle of the pathways, to supposedly ward off the evil spirits. Whenever the brothers espied these simmering pots, they would waste no time in kicking them aside, quickly picking the fruit and pocketing the coins, before ambling away nonchalantly.
An Adventurous Walk Through Thick Forest
The extended journey to school from their new home was more of an adventure rather than an inconvenience for the two brothers, one that they couldn’t wait to embark upon every day.
However, Ashok was still a little boy, barely nine-years-old. His adventures were always under the watchful eye of his elder brother. Kirti, as a senior in school, had to stay back in school for certain extra-curricular activities on some days. Whenever Kirti couldn’t leave at the same time as Ashok, the plucky nine-year-old had to make the trip back home alone.
The route included a kilometre-long walk through Birla Mandir, and then across the thickly forested ridge, that added another kilometre or so to the Taras’ daily trek.
The boys had to cover all of that on foot before they could reach the main road to hitch-hike, which, in those days, meant thumbing a ride on a bicycle, or flagging down a bullock- cart or a push-cart, or hitching a ride on an odd bus, to get closer to their house.
They had quickly realised that, in the relentless Delhi summers, after a long and tiring day at school, their school-trek felt more like penance than an adventure. It was an understatement to say that trudging through the dusty forest paths, with the trickling perspiration making their shirts stick to their bodies, was exhausting."
The above is an excerpt from ‘The Lone Wolf’, written by Neha Dwivedi and published by Penguin Random House. The book is an interwoven narrative of the Bangladesh Liberation War and the thrilling rescue of Sheikh Hasina, the current Prime Minister of Bangladesh, by a young Major of the Indian Army, Colonel Ashok Tara, in 1971.
The book expertly captures our hero's humble beginnings, his life-altering experiences, and offers a blow-by-blow account of a seminal event in Southeast Asian history. The author, a Kargil War martyr’s daughter, is a doctor by profession and writer by passion. Continued excerpt:
The Safety of a 'Wooden Stick'
"The ridge, which is a northern extension of the ancient Aravalli Range, some 1.5 billion years old, extends from the southeast at Tughlaqabad, branching out in places and tapering off in the north near Wazirabad on the west bank of the river Yamuna, covering about 35 kilometres. It is also known as the ‘green lungs’ of the city of Delhi. In those days, the undergrowth was wilder and more unspoiled than it is now. Furthermore, it wasn’t merely called a forest, it was complete with dense foliage and dangerous wildlife as well. Today, as expected, there exists an urbanised version of it, with tourist spots like the Buddha Jayanti Park, with ancient monuments nestled within it.
The forest ranger would regale them with hair-raising stories about wild animals – bears, wolves, monkeys, foxes and a variety of reptiles – that roamed at large in this area. Every once in a while, he would go so far as to even lend them his stout wooden stick that had an iron spike mounted on it (like a spear), for protection, especially from reptiles.
Ashok’s class IV final exams were approaching when, just as in the recent past, Kirti told him he had a football match that was going to keep him from accompanying his younger brother back home. And so, it was that a tired but carefree Ashok had to walk through the woods alone.
'Stare at Your Opponent': Grandfather's Advice
Just like every day, Ashok walked into the forest, exhausted and thirsty, but still alert, placing one foot in front of the other, hoping he wouldn’t come across one of the reptiles that the forest ranger had warned them about. He was thankful for the light, albeit dusty, breeze that caressed his face every now and then. However, the eerie rustling of leaves made him look around to make sure he didn’t have an unwanted companion. He wondered why, today of all days, he hadn’t insisted on borrowing the watchman’s stick because that would have definitely made him feel much safer. Ashok picked up his pace hoping to traverse through the woodland as quickly as possible. The sooner he got out of the jungle, the sooner would he be able to hitch a ride home.
Ashok had barely gathered speed when he froze in his tracks. With a loud crash, out leapt a massive wolf from the undergrowth and stood snarling in the middle of Ashok’s path.
As the wolf and the boy faced each other, the ticking seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity, as the lad realised just how vulnerable his position was. His legs felt leaden and that warm summer breeze that had felt balmy only moments ago now felt icy, like an invisible hand on the nape of his neck.
As if on cue, Ashok thought of his maternal grandfather, a keen hunter and fondly addressed as ‘shikari’ by the people of his village. The old man had often recounted his experiences to his grandchildren who crowded around, listening with rapt attention. In his storytelling sessions, he had shared much sound advice with his young audience. Ashok’s grandfather had told the children:
When confronted by an opponent, even if it’s a wild animal, stare at your opponent with a confident and stern expression. This show of courage will effectively deter them from launching an attack.
When the Wolf Retreated
Ashok had never imagined that he would ever be in a position to apply that piece of advice, but he now took a deep breath, stood his ground determinedly and glared at the wolf.
Sure enough, after a few minutes, the wolf baulked, retreated and slunk back towards the bushes. Before Ashok could heave a sigh of relief, the animal halted and looked back. Ashok held his stance, his expression fearless and undaunted. The wolf slowly moved away, perhaps losing its will to attack, just as his grandfather had said. After the wolf had vanished, Ashok immediately changed his route and pelted towards the main road, his mind still reeling with what he had just survived."
(This is an excerpt from Neha Dwivedi's book Lone Wolf, published by Penguin Random House. Blurbs, paragraph breaks and subheadings have been introduced by The Quint for the ease of readers.)
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