<p>The passing away of Group Captain Dilip Parulkar on August 10 saddened an entire generation of Air Force officers, particularly those who graduated from the National Defence Academy in the early sixties. </p><p>During the 1965 Indo-Pak war, his fighter jet was hit by enemy fire, causing a severe injury to his right shoulder. He was advised to eject from the aircraft, but Parulkar was made of sterner stuff. He continued flying with his injured hand and safely flew the crippled aircraft back to base. He was decorated with the Vayu Sena Medal for displaying courage of an exceptional order.</p>.<p>Then came the next war with Pakistan six years later. Parulkar was not one to rest on his laurels. Once again, he fought at the front, but this time he was shot down and was not lucky enough to fly back to base. Luck eluded him, yet he remained plucky to the core. He was caught after ejecting from his machine and was put in a POW camp. This time, his display of extraordinary courage, initiative, and leadership made him a legend in the Indian Air Force. He managed to escape from the POW camp and led two other colleagues in this daring venture. It was sheer bad luck that after making it all the way to the Afghan border, he was caught just when freedom was in sight. The end of the war, in which 92,000 Pakistani troops surrendered to victorious Indian forces, also led to his ultimate release from the Pakistani POW camp, and the Vishisht Sewa Medal was conferred upon him.</p>.<p class="bodytext">I was fortunate enough to have joined the National Defence Academy in 1961, when Parulkar was in the penultimate term in my squadron. Fifth-termers rarely indulged in ragging the freshers. (It was not banned then.) It was mainly the sport of those who had just become senior to a new batch, but Parulkar enjoyed ragging even as a fifth-termer. He loved giving a humorous twist to ragging. </p>.<p class="bodytext">While getting ragged, I faced the usual question about my hobby. “Playing the flute,” I said. “Classical?” I shook my head in affirmation. “Can you play Raga <span class="italic">Bhairavi</span>?” I nodded yes again.</p>.<p class="bodytext">“Great, I hate the boring reveille siren. Tomorrow morning, stand at attention in front of my cabin, start playing Raga <span class="italic">Bhairavi</span> on the flute and pack up when that silly siren blows.” His short diktat remained in force “till further orders” in military lingo. I had to continue with this drill for the next fortnight!</p>.<p class="bodytext">Dilip sir, all the same, we loved you for your great performance in boxing, cricket, and athletics that earned you the NDA ‘blue’. Your sense of humour made even ragging interesting.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Later, your gallant deeds became our guiding star. Rest in peace, and if you get bored, have a boxing bout with the guards in heaven. Beat the blue out of them and yet make them laugh, as was your wont.</p>
<p>The passing away of Group Captain Dilip Parulkar on August 10 saddened an entire generation of Air Force officers, particularly those who graduated from the National Defence Academy in the early sixties. </p><p>During the 1965 Indo-Pak war, his fighter jet was hit by enemy fire, causing a severe injury to his right shoulder. He was advised to eject from the aircraft, but Parulkar was made of sterner stuff. He continued flying with his injured hand and safely flew the crippled aircraft back to base. He was decorated with the Vayu Sena Medal for displaying courage of an exceptional order.</p>.<p>Then came the next war with Pakistan six years later. Parulkar was not one to rest on his laurels. Once again, he fought at the front, but this time he was shot down and was not lucky enough to fly back to base. Luck eluded him, yet he remained plucky to the core. He was caught after ejecting from his machine and was put in a POW camp. This time, his display of extraordinary courage, initiative, and leadership made him a legend in the Indian Air Force. He managed to escape from the POW camp and led two other colleagues in this daring venture. It was sheer bad luck that after making it all the way to the Afghan border, he was caught just when freedom was in sight. The end of the war, in which 92,000 Pakistani troops surrendered to victorious Indian forces, also led to his ultimate release from the Pakistani POW camp, and the Vishisht Sewa Medal was conferred upon him.</p>.<p class="bodytext">I was fortunate enough to have joined the National Defence Academy in 1961, when Parulkar was in the penultimate term in my squadron. Fifth-termers rarely indulged in ragging the freshers. (It was not banned then.) It was mainly the sport of those who had just become senior to a new batch, but Parulkar enjoyed ragging even as a fifth-termer. He loved giving a humorous twist to ragging. </p>.<p class="bodytext">While getting ragged, I faced the usual question about my hobby. “Playing the flute,” I said. “Classical?” I shook my head in affirmation. “Can you play Raga <span class="italic">Bhairavi</span>?” I nodded yes again.</p>.<p class="bodytext">“Great, I hate the boring reveille siren. Tomorrow morning, stand at attention in front of my cabin, start playing Raga <span class="italic">Bhairavi</span> on the flute and pack up when that silly siren blows.” His short diktat remained in force “till further orders” in military lingo. I had to continue with this drill for the next fortnight!</p>.<p class="bodytext">Dilip sir, all the same, we loved you for your great performance in boxing, cricket, and athletics that earned you the NDA ‘blue’. Your sense of humour made even ragging interesting.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Later, your gallant deeds became our guiding star. Rest in peace, and if you get bored, have a boxing bout with the guards in heaven. Beat the blue out of them and yet make them laugh, as was your wont.</p>
