Her personal tribute 'A Man Called Sundarji' is a valuable prelude to the book, Of Some Cosequence: A Soldier Remembers. It contains 35 columns of anecdotal recollections, first published in The Hindu under the title 'Generally Speaking'.
Sundarji's stories start from his early days as a subaltern in his battalion, 2 Mahar, to more grisly exploits as Brigade Major in erstwhile Congo. This fascinating and highly readable collection of personal incidents is as poignant and sad as it is funny and cheeky. The battalion's mascot, the male lamb, Bandiya, and Sundar's Brindled Bull Terrier pup Pluto, run neck and neck for honours and awards. A horse is not far behind, though being an infantry officer Sundar does not relish the ride. The accounts of Partition and communal killings, escorting refugees, operations in Kargil (1948) and other peacetime chores are part of his recollections.
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The 35 episodes uncover the lighter side of operational situations carrying the Sundarji stamp. My favourite ones are about his commanding officers Ajmer and Parab. How he manages to smuggle out an under-open-arrest Parab for a drink to the Srinagar club in 1950, is something Sundar engineers for himself in Delhi 40 years later after Blue Star when he is straitjacketed in the 'Z' plus security category.
Sundar has given the period of the tittles the go by. His most enjoyable and amusing descriptions are about the war in Congo, now Zaire. The last 11 episodes cover the bush war in Katanga, of Indian soldiers fighting mercenary-led gendarmes. This writer first met the author at Elizabethyille, mopping up the mercenaries and chasing beer-bellied gendarmes and was closely associated with him later, even after he retired.
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A word on Vani's tribute to her late husband. She joined Sundar when he was already a general and, therefore, was slow in grasping military ethos and was also short on facts. She says Sundar fought in five wars. This however, is not borne out by his official record. She's of course, right that he lived ahead of his times. Blue Star, Sri Lanka and Brass Tacks would never have happened had he had his ear to the ground. The fact is at heart Sundar was never an infantry officer and lacked practical experience.
But thanks to her, Sundar fans now know he admired Leonardo da Vinci as much as Chengiz Khan. Or that he was an angler, shikari, rose-lover and a barbecue expert, proficient in preparing tandoori chicken.
Sundar is rightly regarded as the pioneer of India's nuclear doctrine though later on it was highly moderated by American influence. From his early days at Fort Leavenworth in America, Sundar was fascinated by the US concept of mechanised warfare and rapid formations. His book, Blind Men of Hindoostan which unravels India-relevant nuclear scenarios and the holocaust, did not attract the attention it deserved probably because of the fictional treatment and flashy title of the book. After retiring, Sundar taught international relations in the US. He'd hoped Rajiv Gandhi would appoint him his national security advisor. Instead he was offered ambassadorship of an obscure country. Settled in the Nilgiris, he wrote his column for The Hindu but later moved back into the seminar circuit of Delhi. It's a pity that Sundar did not live to finish the 105 stories he'd intended. Even for a man as open and flamboyant as he, there are still many blanks in his career. These are also of some consequence.
