ForeverMissed
This memorial website was created in memory of our Dad, Lt. Col. N Chandrasekharan . . who will be remembered forever. Few relevant photographs are uploaded under the link given below https://ltcolnchandrasekharan.blogspot.com/2020/11...
Posted by Chandrachoodan Thuruthika... on November 11, 2020
My humble pranams to the beloved father of my friend who dedicated his life to the nation while looking after his family
Posted by Jyoti SinghDeo on November 11, 2020
I pay my respectful homage to Daddy on his 20th anniversary. "Soldiers,when committed to a task, can't compromise.It's unrelenting devotion to the standard of duty and courage,absolute loyalty,not letting the task go until it's been done." War has a profound and strangely compelling effect on those who fight,an experience that lasts a lifetime for a soldier.It also changes the lives of their families in ways that those who have never experienced will not know.
It was heartening to read the rich tributes paid to Daddy by his illustrious children and grandchildren.The supreme sacrifice and commitment to serve in the Indian Armed Forces and protect the national and territorial integrity of our motherland speaks volumes of a brave and fearless soldier in Lt Col Chandrashekharan.His dedication and zeal to serve the nation is unparalleled.You siblings are blessed with the valued upbringing he imbibed into your lives.This truly reflects in Gitoppal and Gopan with whom I share close proximity and special bonding of sister and brother relationship.In today's times it is very rare to find a miniscule of simple and genuine  family like yours.Stay Blessed.             Our Soldiers are our Pride .  JAI HIND.
Posted by Sethu Wariyar on November 11, 2020
Daddy was a phenomenon. He breathed knowledge and lived like a perfect gentleman. Soft spoken and a man of few words, all of wisdom and most mature in his transactions, my father's counsel was actively sought by many young officers and junior commissioner officers. From a respectable distance, I couldn't understand why they were coming home and what he was telling them, as he hardly ever spoke.

I also remember being taken to the homes of his grateful orderlies whose wives would be singing hymns of praise for him all through the sojourn. These are soldiers who were delegated to keep our house premises spic and span, iron his uniform, polish his shoes daily and also keep his ceremonial brass regalia shining prior to an army parade. Daddy devoured books and had a huge collection of books, that actually triggered off my insatiable and precocious journey into the world of words and imagination.
He loved teaching. I was arduously taught mathematics personally by him, a losing battle that he endured several years, often late into night when I would have long given up, but he wouldn't! Now, I guess he had more faith in me than myself.

I have seen him laugh, particularly when he was around my younger brother Mohan whom he used to proudly show around. He would come home to feed him and come intermittently to check his temperature if Mohan was ill. When we (I and Mohan) secretly plotted and conducted our misadventures together i.e. enacting Tom Sawyer's raft in the canal (and were fished out by the witnessing jawaans), or when we innocently set fire to our home fence together (and our own home was also almost razed to ground), or we schemingly stole money from his wallet to benevolently purchase candies for all our class mates, I was the one who was reprimanded for teaching my little innocent brother all mischief!

I loved to annoy him to get his attention that I continued to do even as a young adult. I ran away from home several times, and when not one soul came looking for me I would leave it for another day, and promptly return home within the next one hour or when my tummy rumbled. I ascended the highest mango tree that was banned from climbing. I was the forgetful child who within minutes would not be found sitting facing the wall where I had been assigned to a few minutes ago for some 'crime' committed earlier! I was the glib liar who would state things to escape from a situation that I was shameful about, running from fear of being caught out. Not to say that invariably I was caught out!

But on the other hand I also sang the best, bagged all main roles in school drama productions, danced the best, one of the toppers in the class (but for mathematics) and shone outside home, a place full of stellar academic heroes. I worked hard to develope skills and virtues to impress and get validated by the world.

I got appreciation for all that decades later, when I got a chance to look after his personal care when he fell ill after a heart attack and was kept in a hospital bed for several weeks. By then, he was showing clear signs of serious dementia. I came from the UK and took care of him day and night - fed him, bathed him, took him to the toilet, cleaned him and helped him to fall asleep. This is when one night out of the darkness I heard a feeble voice cry out 'Sethu... excuse me for having been harsh with you. I did care for you'...and then it sank into oblivion. I wondered if it was a dream, and I never heard his voice again. He passed away a few months later, after I returned to the UK.

Those words ring in my ears even now. I still wonder if it was all my crazy imaginative mind's creation? He was a very proud man and always showed compassion and gratitude only through benevolent actions, not words.

I feel grateful for the values he (and Amma too) instilled in me and my kin- the resolute resistance to corruption and bribery, compassion to put others before self, the courage to speak the truth to support others, and the honesty to admit one's mistakes and move on.

I think I might have tried to emulate him at a subconscious level in my life journey. Although I might have not perhaps lived up to everyone's expectations, I do feel proud that I have lived up to his.
Posted by Devan Pillai on November 10, 2020
We are proud to remember Col Chandrasekharan uncle father of our close friend and classmate Gita, who is a distinguished woman Engineer herself. Apart from his proud services to support the cause of the nation, Uncle has grown two girls as best citizens of India for which all fathers can be proud of. Long live his memories of contribution to the defense of our nation.
Devan Pillai
Posted by Prakash Pv on November 10, 2020
Some times it's hard to put right words to express our gratitude to the valiants who put their lives to protect our country and countrymen. They say Valiants die only once..but if Valiant is a soldier, they never die. They live in our memory for ever!!

I remember a popular Army Slogan:: to reflect upon men like Col. Chandrashekhar!!

LEAD BY EXAMPLE
LIVE BY CHANCE
LOVE BY CHOICE
AND
KILL BY PROFESSION
Posted by Devadas Mundyath on November 10, 2020
"The brave die never, though they sleep in dust: Their courage nerves a thousand living men." -- Minot J. Savage
Posted by Gita Ramachandran on November 10, 2020
May be it's an Irony of life, or fate or it’s a coincidence, but my Dad left this world on my 21st Wedding Anniversary on 10th Nov 2000,  which also happened to be the Malayalam star of my Mother and Sister. After dedicating half a century in the service of the Nation, he was no more
As my children were appearing for their crucial board papers of 10th and 12th, we could not stay with our parents in Kerala. So after our dad survived the second Cardiac Attack. they came to stay with us in Mumbai. He was off and on from Hospitals in the year 2000. Even though, he almost crashed once, one doctor Dr. Dubey,  at Mumbai revived him using Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation (CPR).  But this time, even though he was admitted to ICU, nothing could save him and he bade us goodbye on 10th Nov 2000, mentally and physically shocking us.
Hello Dad. You remind me of so many instances,  where you thought of others before you thought of yourself. Nothing can replace your kindness, generosity, perseverance, discipline, and farsightedness.  
We remember our Soldier Dad with pride, as a self-made man, an engineer par excellence, too honest and upright for words, instilling the right values in us, hard on the exterior, but too soft, generous, loving and caring inside. We salute our Dad Lt Colonel N Chandrasekharan who is no more with us, but was right there in the front, for all the major wars with China and Pakistan, during his tenure in the Indian Army. A life lived, only for the betterment of others
From a Whatsapp post which I received today, this sums it up  “ A Serviceman is someone who, at one point in his life, wrote a blank cheque made payable to 'India' for an amount of 'Up to and including my life.' 
PS ..Pl read My DAD My HERO under the stories section
Posted by Kirtana Gopakumar on November 9, 2020
I was not yet three when achachan left us, so everything I know about him is through the many anecdotes that have been told about him. My greatest connection to him continues on every time we visit barracks and drive past the old house, hearing stories about the past.

Achachan was not much of a talker according to achan, but amma remembers fondly of all the army stories he used to share with her. I have also heard a lot of his affinity to watch and read the news right on time everyday and his generosity of spirit.

I will cherish my limited memories about my grandfather and all the warm anecdotes I get to hear and rehear!
Posted by Sudha Balagopalan on November 9, 2020
Page Abohar
Chechi and I were in Abohar quite briefly. Yet, there are some strong memories, could be because we were growing up, could be because, this was the beginning of a hiatus when Amma and Daddy would be once-a-year visitors and heard from letters read out by our uncle/ aunt.
Abohar was nice, the scenery changed to a fast flowing canal beside the tent complex and underground room that served as home and there was no school. Despite several searches, Daddy could not find English medium schools for us. But entertainment was in plenty. We were even taken to the end of the canal and could see Pakistan and their sentries patrolling the border, while ours did it on this side. Daddy was always a well-informed guide!
My swimming lessons started from him. The canal was a favourite haunt for him with his family and he loved swimming in the canal. We had come to Abohar from 2 places, both not being ideal for swimmers. Tawi was rough I suppose and Ganges was more of a ceremonial centre for all kinds of rituals than for entertainment. Daddy offered to teach us swimming in the canal that flowed all the way upto Pakisthan, as per the remembered hearsay. In fact he asked us, rather me to jump into the water and I did. So much was the trust in my Daddy! And there I went bobbing up and down in the relatively strong current of the water much to the fear of Amma. But the strong arms of Daddy caught me much before any calamity and here am I to tell the tale!
Bidding farewell to Abohar, my sister and I boarded the train to Thrissur for or life in Kerala, from then on.
Posted by Sudha Balagopalan on November 9, 2020
However, the Indo-Pak war was over, we had shifted house, a sweet pea smelling one, the boys had started schooling and his transfer to Jammu was confirmed and we followed him to ..
Page Jammu
More wondrous than the travel to Jammu was the stay in the barracks with wide open spaces, houses mostly bunkers and tents and we being allowed to roam around, unless school needed us! Daddy was in charge of the army cinema house and many were the movies seen during those times, with special attention to Children’s movies Daddy brought to the theatre for all children. (I still remember some posters especially of The Birds, It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad world, Jump for joy it’s Jumbo etc.). I still remember incidents when Daddy was required by the back office for decision making, at which he was so strong that the entire family depended almost entirely on his plans.
Almost all weekends we landed up at river Tawi and I remember the boisterous company of fellow officers and their families, and Daddy mixing easily and freely with all. A good lesson in social mixing and etiquette was on during all such occasions, even as early as that. I think Chechi and I started our reading habits, borrowed from Daddy because of many books he bought us during our stay at Jammu, at least as birthday presents. Still memories of Bhangda, sack race, needle and thread race, and holi and Republic Day march are fresh in my mind, all with the most wonderful feeling of being fully cared for by our most silently affectionate Daddy.
He was also a disciplinarian, as we found out one day, after returning from another round of walking around and enjoying the air ant tranquillity of after-war Jammu. We had neither sought permission nor informed Daddy and Amma who were away in a party in the officers’ mess. The rose creepers growing in front of the house were deployed effectively thorns and all, to teach us a lesson on refraining from scaring the family on one’s where-about.
School reminds me of a day I took Daddy on a wild goose chase. Our school was run by European nuns and we ‘darkies’ did not get any undue attention and so we stuck together. I still remember a ‘Rema’ as my classmate and another girl who invited us to her birthday party. We had recently got new frocks, my sister a bright blue one and me a bright yellow ( the colour stuck to me even late into the time I finished my graduation, when Daddy bought me my first sari, a bright yellow one, which is one asset I lost to Kuwait in our hurried evacuation) and armed with a prize we bought her, we went house searching, just because I was adamant that we must go. I remember going in circles and finally landing up in her house where no party was going on, but Daddy did not blame nor shame me or the culprit who gave us a fake invitation.
Our trip to Srinagar was a colourful one just as the settings around, all the more merry because Dad’s sister and a family friend joined us. We had entered the ‘collection phase’ and started picking up multi-coloured beautiful feathers that were all around. Daddy was horrified since it was clear that he had no tolerance for animal flesh, neither for fish nor fowl and compelled us to drop them all and wash our hands. Of course, he compensated by buying us ornaments with shiny golden designs embedded in an equally shiny black stones. They are still my most beautiful images of ornaments and no design has come to match my attachment to those stones we lost in several subsequent transfers. Yes, it was Abohar, next.
Posted by Sudha Balagopalan on November 9, 2020
Remembrances….
To me, memories have always appeared to be either a construct of what one wishes to believe or as influenced by the adulthood collections of perceptions, attitudes, responses etc. Thus my coloured memories associated with Daddy begin in Benaras as I recall it was called then or Kashi i.e. Varanasi. I also think that it was those memories or incidents that gave shape to my own ways of reacting to whatever life has brought me. So, let me start from
Page Varanasi
The earliest memories include a happy jaunt in a tonga through the roads of Benaras on our way to a movie, ‘Sampoorna Ramayana’, we girls in a golden yellow (my favourite colour till today) skirt, the boys in terylene shirts and polyester shorts (as per the photographs of those times). Daddy was always fond of taking us for movies and even in Calicut, when he was in an expansive mood, he would give us money for all of us to go as a team. Well, this is the first movie I remember and the scene when the earth moves away and horrors- consumes Seetha, all to assuage one man’s ego, is one claustrophobic impression that has stayed on!
Daddy’s prejudices were also influencing. He was dead against buying ice-creams from shops. Instead, one day, we were elated to find a man with a machine (like a flask) and I remember the excitement but not how much we must have eaten! Another memory of a nurturing dad was in the evergreen picture in my mind of the baby of the house at that time, i.e. Mohan (sometimes my child who was a baby on his lap when he stayed with us replaces Mohan in this affectionate image) being held on his lap while he fed the baby milk sodden bread or chappathi.
Daddy also loved to travel. So we were taken to Allahabad and Sarnath, I believe though memory is very vague there, but a dip in the Thriveni, when it was him who had to push each one of us under water for a quick and hurried head dip is remembered just as the several visits to the Ghats of Ganges and the temple pilgrimage, though he wouldn’t enter the temple but wait outside. 
Another poignant memory is on coming home one day after school and asking a sad faced Amma for Daddy and her replying that Dad’s gone to the war front. He did not say his farewells to us when he went rushing to meet the war on the western border, which had until then been distant with occasional curfews, and Sri. Lal Bahadur Shasthri’s impassioned plea for austerity (remembering collecting rice in matchboxes). That was our daddy, never a man to show a sentimental side, perhaps deeply saddened when he lost his much-loved mother, our Achchamma, while we were in Benaras and he in Jammu. Never had he shared his war stories with us, but everywhere we followed him, the deep respect for him was obvious in the faces and stances of all soldiers and officers who worked with him. He was particular that we call all ranks by the suffix- ‘saheb’, just as he did.
I believe I got my first lesson on parenting, again from my Daddy and Amma. My older younger brothers, Gopan and Sethu had just started schooling and according to my memory were viciously ragged by the ‘gangs’ in the school. Each day going to school became more and more of a pain in the neck for the duo, until, one day the reason was made known to us. We were much hurt but I don’t remember our parents, especially my daddy going to the school to resolve it, unlike it happens now when parents pick up the feuds between even older children! Even later on in life, we siblings resolved our quarrels with the world ourselves since Daddy had made it clear that, that was not his job. Even between us, our fights were our own problems with no room for appeals to higher committees. 
Posted by Gopika Gopakumar on November 9, 2020
Few memories here and there about my Achachan. But ever since I remember, I have been always associated to him due to the shared Malayalam birth sign.

Achan, amma and even my amamma have fondly shared stories about him helping me get to know my grandfather. He was described to me as a gem of a person. Genuine, warm, wise and a stickler for time.

I vaguely remember going to the army canteen with him. Achan used to take us to the house in barracks visually narrating funny incidents and fond memories. I smile when I think that he was convinced that as a kid, I was capable of almost burning something down!

But what I admire about him was his passion for food. I remember how much he loved desserts and pappadams. He relished bondas and vadas. And so staying true to his passion, my achan has consistently held feasts on each of his birthdays. Every year we all share a wonderful meal celebrating Achachan.

It is true that I wish I got to know him a little more. But, I know he is with us, watching over us and cheering us on :)
Posted by Gita Ramachandran on October 31, 2020
                Our Daddy lives on.  
Gita, Sudha, Gopakumar , Sethumadhavan, ChandraMohan and spouses

A mountain of memories, is what he gave us;
Yet, ne’er a moment of ‘nay’, in our choice of life.
Its course was mapped, from the standards he set up.
Silence was his command, his support in our joys and strife!

His words were few, and far between;
Their worth have traversed, the passage of time.
His quiet pride, his silent love, his wordless dreams.
Gave us our beacons, showed the steps we must climb!

His ‘foot’ was always longer, than our meter;
Much larger was his heart, which embraced a-many.
His ‘pounds’ were heavy, from tons of untruths for us to deter.
An engineer in life, a soldier at work, a great dad, he needs no litany!

Leave a Tribute

 
Recent Tributes
Posted by Chandrachoodan Thuruthika... on November 11, 2020
My humble pranams to the beloved father of my friend who dedicated his life to the nation while looking after his family
Posted by Jyoti SinghDeo on November 11, 2020
I pay my respectful homage to Daddy on his 20th anniversary. "Soldiers,when committed to a task, can't compromise.It's unrelenting devotion to the standard of duty and courage,absolute loyalty,not letting the task go until it's been done." War has a profound and strangely compelling effect on those who fight,an experience that lasts a lifetime for a soldier.It also changes the lives of their families in ways that those who have never experienced will not know.
It was heartening to read the rich tributes paid to Daddy by his illustrious children and grandchildren.The supreme sacrifice and commitment to serve in the Indian Armed Forces and protect the national and territorial integrity of our motherland speaks volumes of a brave and fearless soldier in Lt Col Chandrashekharan.His dedication and zeal to serve the nation is unparalleled.You siblings are blessed with the valued upbringing he imbibed into your lives.This truly reflects in Gitoppal and Gopan with whom I share close proximity and special bonding of sister and brother relationship.In today's times it is very rare to find a miniscule of simple and genuine  family like yours.Stay Blessed.             Our Soldiers are our Pride .  JAI HIND.
Posted by Sethu Wariyar on November 11, 2020
Daddy was a phenomenon. He breathed knowledge and lived like a perfect gentleman. Soft spoken and a man of few words, all of wisdom and most mature in his transactions, my father's counsel was actively sought by many young officers and junior commissioner officers. From a respectable distance, I couldn't understand why they were coming home and what he was telling them, as he hardly ever spoke.

I also remember being taken to the homes of his grateful orderlies whose wives would be singing hymns of praise for him all through the sojourn. These are soldiers who were delegated to keep our house premises spic and span, iron his uniform, polish his shoes daily and also keep his ceremonial brass regalia shining prior to an army parade. Daddy devoured books and had a huge collection of books, that actually triggered off my insatiable and precocious journey into the world of words and imagination.
He loved teaching. I was arduously taught mathematics personally by him, a losing battle that he endured several years, often late into night when I would have long given up, but he wouldn't! Now, I guess he had more faith in me than myself.

I have seen him laugh, particularly when he was around my younger brother Mohan whom he used to proudly show around. He would come home to feed him and come intermittently to check his temperature if Mohan was ill. When we (I and Mohan) secretly plotted and conducted our misadventures together i.e. enacting Tom Sawyer's raft in the canal (and were fished out by the witnessing jawaans), or when we innocently set fire to our home fence together (and our own home was also almost razed to ground), or we schemingly stole money from his wallet to benevolently purchase candies for all our class mates, I was the one who was reprimanded for teaching my little innocent brother all mischief!

I loved to annoy him to get his attention that I continued to do even as a young adult. I ran away from home several times, and when not one soul came looking for me I would leave it for another day, and promptly return home within the next one hour or when my tummy rumbled. I ascended the highest mango tree that was banned from climbing. I was the forgetful child who within minutes would not be found sitting facing the wall where I had been assigned to a few minutes ago for some 'crime' committed earlier! I was the glib liar who would state things to escape from a situation that I was shameful about, running from fear of being caught out. Not to say that invariably I was caught out!

But on the other hand I also sang the best, bagged all main roles in school drama productions, danced the best, one of the toppers in the class (but for mathematics) and shone outside home, a place full of stellar academic heroes. I worked hard to develope skills and virtues to impress and get validated by the world.

I got appreciation for all that decades later, when I got a chance to look after his personal care when he fell ill after a heart attack and was kept in a hospital bed for several weeks. By then, he was showing clear signs of serious dementia. I came from the UK and took care of him day and night - fed him, bathed him, took him to the toilet, cleaned him and helped him to fall asleep. This is when one night out of the darkness I heard a feeble voice cry out 'Sethu... excuse me for having been harsh with you. I did care for you'...and then it sank into oblivion. I wondered if it was a dream, and I never heard his voice again. He passed away a few months later, after I returned to the UK.

Those words ring in my ears even now. I still wonder if it was all my crazy imaginative mind's creation? He was a very proud man and always showed compassion and gratitude only through benevolent actions, not words.

I feel grateful for the values he (and Amma too) instilled in me and my kin- the resolute resistance to corruption and bribery, compassion to put others before self, the courage to speak the truth to support others, and the honesty to admit one's mistakes and move on.

I think I might have tried to emulate him at a subconscious level in my life journey. Although I might have not perhaps lived up to everyone's expectations, I do feel proud that I have lived up to his.
his Life

Our Daddy lives on..

A mountain of memories, is what he gave us;
Yet, ne’er a moment of ‘nay’, in our choice of life.
Its course was mapped, from the standards he set up.
Silence was his command, his support in our joys and strife!

His words were few, and far between;
Their worth has traversed, the passage of time.
His quiet pride, his silent love, his wordless dreams.
Gave us our beacons, showed the steps we must climb!

His ‘foot’ had been always longer, than our meter;
Much larger was his heart, which embraced a-many.
His ‘pounds’ were heavy, from tons of untruths for us to deter.
An engineer in life, a soldier at work, a great dad, he needs no litany!

Posted by Lt Col N Chandrasekharan's children
Gita, Sudha, Gopakumar, Sethumadhavan,  and ChandraMohan  
Few   photographs are uploaded under the link given below https://ltcolnchandrasekharan.blogspot.com/2020/11/blog-post.html

A leaf out of the extraordinary life of our Dad

Late Lt Col, N Chandrasekharan was born to Ponganam Warriethu N Kochutti Warasyar and Chowalloor Warriethu Rama Warrier on 8th Aug 1923   Being a member of a large family of 7 siblings and being the 4th of the lot, in an era when basic amenities took priority over education, he had to literally struggle to complete his basic education. From what has been shared by Dad with our Mom, we have realized that he had immense value for education because of struggles in those times for even basic education. School involved textbooks, notebooks, and appropriate clothes for all children, which was a difficult proposition for almost all people in those days with large families. We came to hear that he was once asked to leave the class for  not having relevant  text book. As per him, he was only forbidden to enter the class, but not to Learn. He stood outside the class and not  just attended, but also topped the class in all subjects.  This made the teachers take a liking to him, and  few of them even helped him later.

As he was a man of few words, we rarely heard much about his struggles from him, but  we have consistently realized the importance he gave to education. As he was determined to pursue Engineering,  he worked  after his HSC (plus 2), presumably in postal / Armed services for short period, and earn sufficiently to support his education. He also gave tuitions to his classmates to  earn for the fees,  as doing a Mechanical Engineering degree at  Annamalai University in Madras, meant not only Tuition fees, but also books, mess and hostel Fees.

He was hugely considerate to people who approached him  with a sad  story of being unable to educate  their children, and he  would  donate and  help them. In fact, he rarely checked the authenticity of such stories and perhaps a few have taken advantage of this too.   He had  also indicated  to  our Amma  that she could pursue  her education if she so desired and he would  support and finance her, but   being in the family way,   and  with  increased responsibility  of  looking after 5 of us  in his absence due to  the many wars fought by Indian Army,  and many associated  transfers, she  could not  pursue the same.  Instead he was particular about educating his youngest sister, who was non-encumbered till she evolved as an admirable professor of Physics after pursuing her studies in BHU.

 He was particular about conveying  to us  that the one thing he could provide us would be “Education” and urged all of  us to study to our  heart’s  content.  We are happy, that he could see us all complete  our education with flying colours,  and were  well settled before  his demise,  2 decades back. Our only regret is that we could not do much for him.  So  we have decided  to reward a worthy student in Mechanical Engineering  from NITC ( where he was also commanding officer  of NCC while he was posted at Calicut,  and where 3 of his children and 2 children in laws completed their Engineering) ,   in his memory  from this year onwards
Having been born and educated in the Pre independence  Era,   could have  been  the  trigger or deciding factor for him to join the  Indian Army in the EME  (Electrical and Mechanical Engineers core),  despite resistance from his parents. He has participated in all the major wars, fought by India after Independence till  his retirement  from the Services in1977.  Many a times he would be at the battle front,  or in hardship locations, where family could not be kept with him. Even though he has not mentioned much about  the wars, the Service record talks of  the Medals  and Decorations conferred on him which are listed as shown below as well as consolidated and posted in the Photo Gallery. 
As a self-made man,  a soldier par excellence, a self-disciplined,  Selfless, committed and  high principled person  with lofty ideals, one  can only Salute and pay our respects  to  our Dad with this Tribute 
 Few more photographs are uploaded under the link given below    https://ltcolnchandrasekharan.blogspot.com/2020/11/blog-post.html

A life dedicated to the Service of our Nation 1947 to 1977

List of Decorations ,Medals and Honors for participation in the Major Wars by  India  during his tenure with Indian Army which we are all proud of  
Paschimi Star   for  Indo-Pakistani War of 1971 - Operation Cactus-Lilly

Sangram Medal   for 1971/72 war with Pakistan  Operation Cactus-Lilly

25th Independent Anniversary Medal for twenty-fifth anniversary of India's independence, ‎‎15 August 1972

General Service Medal for service in Jammu and Kashmir during the Indo-Pakistani War of 1947,  Operation Bison

Sainya Seva Medal    for service under conditions of hardship and severe climate in specified areas

Raksha Medal – 1965  for the Indo-Pakistani War of 1965  Operation  Ablaze  

Samar Seva Star-1965   for the Indo-Pakistani War of 1965    Operation   Riddle

9  Years Long Service Medal,  20 Years Long Service Medal  &  Service Medal

Participation in Sino Indian War 1962 
 Few more photographs are uploaded under the link given below https://ltcolnchandrasekharan.blogspot.com/2020/11/blog-post.html 

 
  
Recent stories

Walking the walk.

Shared by Sethu Wariyar on November 11, 2020
Daddy was a phenomenon. He breathed knowledge and lived like a gentleman. Soft spoken Daddy was a phenomenon. He breathed knowledge and lived like a perfect gentleman. Soft spoken and a man of few words, all of wisdom and most mature in his transactions, my father's counsel was actively sought by many young officers and junior commissioner officers. From a respectable distance, I couldn't understand why they were coming home and what he was telling them, as he hardly ever spoke. 
I also remember being taken to the homes of his grateful orderlies whose wives would be singing hymns of praise for him all through the sojourn. These are soldiers who were delegated to keep our house premises spic and span, iron his uniform, polish his shoes daily and also keep his ceremonial brass regalia shining prior to an army parade. Daddy devoured books and had a huge collection of books, that actually triggered off my insatiable and precocious journey into the world of words and imagination. 
He loved teaching. I was arduously taught mathematics personally by him, a losing battle that he endured several years, often late into night when I would have long given up, but he wouldn't! Now, I guess he had more faith in me than myself.
I have seen him laugh, particularly  when he was around my younger brother  Mohan whom he used to proudly show around. He would come home to feed him and come intermittently to check his temperature if Mohan was ill. When we (I and Mohan) secretly plotted and conducted our misadventures together i.e. enacting Tom Sawyer's  raft in the canal (and were fished out by the witnessing jawaans), or when we innocently set fire to our home fence together (and our own home was also almost razed to ground), or we schemingly stole money from his wallet to benevolently purchase candies for all our class mates, I was the one who was reprimanded for teaching my little innocent brother all mischief! 
I loved to annoy him to get his attention that I continued to do even as a young adult. I ran away from home several times, and when not one soul came looking for me I would leave it for another day, and promptly return home within the next one hour or when my tummy rumbled. I ascended the highest mango tree that was banned from climbing. I was the forgetful child who within minutes would not be found sitting facing the wall where I had been assigned to a few minutes ago for some 'crime' committed earlier! I was the glib liar who would state things to escape from a situation that I was shameful about, running from fear of being caught out.  Not to say that invariably I was caught out! 
But on the other hand I also sang the best,  bagged all main roles in school drama productions, danced the best, one of the toppers in the class (but for mathematics) and shone outside home, a place full of stellar academic heroes. I worked hard to develope skills and virtues to impress and get validated by the world. 
I got appreciation for all that decades later, when I got a chance to  look after his personal care when he fell ill after a heart attack and was kept in a hospital bed for several weeks. By then, he was showing clear signs of serious dementia. I came from the UK and took care of him day and night - fed him, bathed him, took him to the toilet, cleaned him and helped him to fall asleep. This is when one night out of the darkness  I heard a feeble voice cry out 'Sethu... excuse me for having been harsh with you. I did care for you'...and then it sank into oblivion. I wondered if it was a dream, and I never heard his voice again. He passed away a few months later, after I returned to the UK. 
Those words ring in my ears even now. I still wonder if it was all my crazy imaginative mind's creation? He was a very proud man and always showed compassion and gratitude only through benevolent actions, not words. 
I feel grateful for the values he (and Amma too) instilled in me and my kin- the resolute resistance to corruption and bribery, compassion to put others before self, the courage to speak the truth to support others, and the honesty to admit one's mistakes and move on. 
I think I might have tried to emulate him at a subconscious level in my life journey. Although I might have not perhaps lived up to everyone's expectations, I do feel proud that I have lived up to his.

My DAD My HERO

Shared by Gita Ramachandran on November 9, 2020
My DAD My HERO 

Its only with Awe and Admiration that I can think of my Dad.   I  respected him so much that he is held in high esteem,  and assumed  to be almost  infallible for me. There are many instances in my life, where I have put myself in his shoes  and took decisions based on what he would have done,  under those circumstances  

As a man of very high principles he instilled a sense of honesty in us from the time we were toddlers .   We were rewarded, if we owned up  to the naughty pranks we committed. If we broke something, or  was the one to pick up a fight,  or lost  something valuable, admitting the same  would be forgiven  and not punished. He had an uncanny knack of finding out when we lied and mind you, we would not be spared for lying. So it was indeed very difficult, to even speak a white lie. I still remember,  how I lost Rs 100 (Roughly  more than  Rs 2500 today),given to me  during the study tour of South India while  doing my Engineering. I was upset and in tears. However when I reported the same to  him after reaching back,  he consoled me and asked me to forget it, though I knew that it was quite invaluable during those times.   

 He instilled a  sense of responsibility in me from a very young age which stayed with me forever. Once when Dad and Mom had gone for an official party leaving  us in the care  of the Orderly,  when we were very young, The orderly informed us that a movie “ Tere ghar ke saamne “ was being screened on the big screen,  in the Cantonment. They used to screen   movies on a 5 Ton truck, on some  weekends to entertain the family of the Officers and Jawaans.  All of us were game , and left along with him to view the same.     On return from the Movie, I was taken to task, with the others being let off.  I was told that me being the eldest, should have been more responsible for the safety and well being of my siblings and  better sense should have prevailed.  Though I felt miserable then, I realized later,  that  it was the stepping stone for me to shoulder responsibilities

We were introduced to reading  from a very young age. Dad  had a good collection  of books, stocked  in a  wooden shelf,  as he himself  was a voracious reader.  He was particular about spending money on buying books rather than on buying jewelry or other accessories for beautifying oneself. He was up-to-date,  on all current affairs  reading newspapers beginning to end, and  listening to the NEWS  on the Radio. (and later Transistor)

I am not too sure,  if it is due to the Training in the Army or not, he led a very disciplined life. We never found him idling in the house. Either he would be reading,  or  busy  doing  repairs to  things  found broken, fixing pipes,  drilling screws, fixing insulation tapes, hammering  nails  or painting the doors / windows of the house, even mixing cement to  lay the bricks in the garden.   Not only would he tend to the vegetable garden, but also water the plantain and coconut trees,   which he fondly  planted   in the yard.  After getting his posting to Calicut,   he even bought few cows and reared them  in our  backyard. Being a vegetarian, he was particular that we get quality milk , butter, ghee,  curd and other milk products.  May be some of these  qualities unknowingly rubbed on me  too. 

Doing a professional course meant,  appearing for exams every six months and studying for the same meant burning midnight oil. Dad would  sit up along with us, and check with us if we were ready  to go to sleep. We would be put  at ease,  knowing fully well, that  he would  wake us up at  the  time specified by us  in the wee hours,  to  enable  us to, complete  balance portion if any. As I was the one, who was  never ever able to complete sufficiently enough,  I would shamelessly  ask him to  wake me up   at 3 or 4 Am as the case may be,  and there he would be up,   with a warm cup of tea to energize  me to complete my revision.

We were very few girl students doing engineering in those days and almost all of them were hostelites, barring me and my sister.  At times, due to special classes or extended Labs /Workshops , or some unforeseen strikes, we used to be  late to reach home.  We could sense his anxiety and care, as we would find him  waiting in the Verandah looking  towards  the gate waiting  to see us get down from the Bus. It   is relevant to note that those days ,  it was quite risky for the girls to be travelling late in the evenings. Despite that, when I got a call from BPCL  to attend the Interview in Mumbai, I asked him if he could accompany  me, to which  he  declined.   As an add-on he added,  “  If I accompany you now,  do you think  you  will be able to  manage, when you have to  go on an out station Tour  or when you are transferred?  Education should help you in taking the right path and right decision”    In simple ways,  he  instilled a sense of self-confidence and fearlessness in me ,  which I  followed  to the T,  for my daughter too. Since he displayed complete Trust  in me, I was careful in not breaking his trust

 10 years of my school education was spent in 5 schools, in 3 different states

I may have been about  6 years or so , when the  Indo Chinese war broke out  in the 1962. Dad was posted in Jorhat Assam, and  we were packed off to Kerala to stay  with our grandparents,  as he had to be at the Warfront and families were expected to leave. My memories are very faint  during this stage , except that  we walked to a govt  school in our village to learn the first letters in Malayalam.

Once the war got over,  he was   transferred to Benares,  and he   took us to Benares where we started our schooling in a Private school.  But no sooner,  India was again waging a war with Pakistan in 1965,   and he was asked to  report at the Border (Presumably Kashmir). There was no time to even tell us. Today I tend to  think of such  families, where their near one left like this, never to return again. The memory which stays with me, is of my mother taking lots of Vrathas  and  fasting for his wellbeing.  When back,  on a short leave, we asked him to talk about the war,  and he explained about  the Trenches  and bunkers (where they took shelter from falling bombs or other attacks),  and about the Tanks and soldiers captured by the Indian Army, his march into the enemy territory and so on. He soft played  the glamorous part by explaining that,    when we were playing Diwali with crackers, they were also hearing the crackers of  gun shots and  bomb explosions every  where.

These were the real stories of real heroes for  a young girl at an impressionable age of 8  or 9,  when  one starts hero worshipping the real hero, her Dad. After watching the Hindi  movie ‘Haqueeqat’ released in 1964  set in the backdrop of the Sino Indian War of 1962,  I had the  desire  to join Indian Army which never materialized though, as they were  not  recruiting  ladies other  than doctors in the Indian  Army, when I  graduated  , a reality to which I reconciled later .

After the 1965 war,  he was transferred  to Jammu,  and we left Benares to be with him . We stayed in Mud houses with thatched roofs which enabled them to be camouflaged during wars or red alerts . We got admission in the Presentation Convent Sr Secondary School at Jammu.  Faintly remember  how on certain  few red alerts, we  were asked to go under the beds and switch off all lights and so on.  Even that stay was short lived,  as he got transferred to Abohar Punjab,   another Posting on the Indo Pak border which had no facility for education .

This was a conflicting period for dad, where the dream of educating his children  got pitted against his  love of serving the Nation. Each transfer implied a drop to a lower class  for us, due to the change in the curriculum / medium of instruction or standard of education. Fortunately a double promotion helped me to gain one lost year.  After discussing with us, and convincing us,  he decided to  admit us  in Boarding school ( Sacred Hearts Convent )  at Trichur  (his native place) and keep the  2 youngest of us with him at Abohar, as they were still  in their lower primary classes.  I  think the  youngest 2 were at their naughtiest  best , after we left for Kerala.  Naturally we were upset with this arrangement,  as there was no means of communicating, other than with letters, which took its own  sweet time,  and commuting by train which also  meant 2 to 3 days of travel in those days  (1967 to 69).  It was the longest period of separation and bitterness for us .

We begged Daddy  to try  for a Kerala Posting,   and though it meant  some compromise and setback  in his career,  Dad could manage a Transfer  to  the NCC Wing,  at Barracks Calicut ,  when I  was in studying  in  the 8th standard.  To continue with the State board of Kerala ,we( me and my sister ) got admission in Providence GHS , which also meant studying Malayalam as a first language  afresh  from 8th standard ( after Half the year was over ) which was less painful than staying apart in the Boarding School.    Dad  was also the commanding officer  at Providence School/ College, REC and many other educational Institutions in Calicut.  It was at this juncture , that he took a decision, that we children  would continue our education at Calicut ,  and he would proceed alone on further transfers. As expected he was soon to  leave  for the  next  Indo Pak War  called for liberating Bangladesh  in  1971.  Unconsciously,  I  started  taking  (or may be I was entrusted  with) more responsibility for my younger siblings. 

After Engineering, I got  a job with Bharat Petroleum at Mumbai,  and was soon  married.  Dad and Mom joined us in Mumbai  in the late 90s after he survived  2 cardiac arrests. Physically he was sick, but  relentlessly he  continued his disciplined life  which were  an example  to be emulated by our children in their lives.  I don't want to speak more on this as my  children have shared their memories 

While at Mumbai to engage him, we took him for the movie “Border” released in 1997,  based on  the 1971 Indo Pak war,  which he had participated  in,  and  could relate  to the incidents and  locations (Longewal)  shown in the same.  We could also take him for an Outdoor Show at MMRDA grounds which replicated the War scenes,  and locations affected during  the Kargil War,  as he could relate to them  more than any one of us, even though he had not participated in ‘The Kargil’ War.   All though we are children of a Patriot,  of a very  high order,  we still   don’t  want wars to be fought between  nations (if it can be avoided), which  leaves indelible marks on the near and dear ones  of both  who had survived,  as well as of those who were Martyred  .

I salute My Dad,  My Hero , for inculcating a sense of responsibility, Honesty, Integrity, Hard work, Tenacity, Sense of Fairness, Respect for the Seniors ( Be it in age or Rank )  and the Never Say Die Attitude,  which stood  me in good stead throughout my Academic/ Corporate/Personal and Domestic  Life , as well as helped me  in bringing  up my children who have imbibed  these  values though unconsciously
Forever missing you Daddy  ..  Gita Ramachandran 

ഒരു ഓർമ്മ കുറിപ്പ് കൂടി...

Shared by Gita Ramachandran on November 9, 2020
By NV Balagopalan 
 ഒരു ഓർമ്മ കുറിപ്പ് കൂടി...
ഞങ്ങൾ കുവൈററിൽ നിന്ന് മടങ്ങി വന്നതിനു ശേഷം ഞങ്ങളുടെ വീട്ടിൽ സ്ഥിര താമസമാക്കിയതിനു ശേഷം സുധയുടെ അച്ഛനും അമ്മയും കുറച്ച് ദിവസങ്ങളിൽ വന്ന് ഞങ്ങളുടെ കൂടെ താമസിക്കാറുണ്ട്. ചില സമയങ്ങളിൽ അച്ഛൻ മാത്രമായും വരാറുണ്ട്.അങ്ങനെ ഒരിക്കൽ വന്നപ്പോൾ അച്ഛൻ മാത്രമെ ഉണ്ടായിരുന്നുള്ളു.
രാവിലെ പ്രഭാത ഭക്ഷണം കഴിച്ചതിന് ശേഷം ഞാൻ എന്റെ പാത്രം കഴുകി കൊണ്ട് നിന്നപ്പോൾ പിന്നിൽ അദ്ദേഹം പാത്രവുമായി നിൽക്കുന്നു. ഞാൻ പറഞ്ഞു പാത്രം അവിടെ വച്ചോളു. കഴുകാനായി ഒരു സ്ത്രി വരും അവർ കഴുകി കൊള്ളും. അപ്പോൾ അദ്ദേഹം പറഞ്ഞത് “ നാം കഴിച്ച പാത്രങ്ങൾ കഴുകാൻ വേറൊരാളെ ആശ്രയിക്കണ്ട ഞാൻ തന്നെ കഴുകിക്കൊള്ളാം”. എന്നിക്ക് വലിയ ബ ഹുമാനം തോന്നി. ഞാൻ എന്നും ചെയ്യുന്നത് സ്വയമാണെങ്കില്ലും മിലിട്ടറിയിൽ വലിയ ഉദ്ദൃോഗം വഹിച്ച ഒരാളിൽ നിന്ന് അത് കേട്ട പ്പോൾ വളരെ സന്തോഷം തോന്നി. ഒരോരുത്തരുടെയും വൃക്തിത്വം അവരുടെ വാക്കുകളിൽ നിന്നും മനസിലാക്കാൻ കഴിയും.
by BALAGOPALAN NV