Received a forward today. Could not help but publish it on my blog for posterity. Legends are few & far between.
This happened back in 2002 — twenty-two years ago now.
I had been posted in Mumbai, and one day I received a special order in my hand.
When I opened and read it, I was stunned with surprise and overwhelmed with joy.
It said:
“You are appointed as the Security Officer during the visit of India’s greatest soldier — Field Marshal Sam Manekshaw — to Mumbai.”
I was deeply moved by the trust my seniors had placed in me. Soon, the weight of responsibility dawned on me, and I gathered myself.
I called up Field Marshal Manekshaw’s office to get details of his itinerary. He was scheduled to arrive in Mumbai soon. The Parsi community had arranged a felicitation event for him. For two whole days, I was assigned to escort the legendary Sam Bahadur in his car and during all his engagements. It was a dream come true — an experience of a lifetime.
At that time, his charisma was unmatched — his personality magnetic.
I had met him briefly before; our conversations often touched on World War II, the 1971 War, the valor of the Rajputana Rifles, and the Gorkha Regiment.
Now, I was eagerly awaiting his arrival in Mumbai.
The day arrived. He landed at Mumbai Airport. I gave him a crisp salute and took on the responsibility for his security. Sitting beside him in the car was an unforgettable feeling — my eyes were scanning everywhere, one hand resting on the pistol holstered at my waist.
That evening, the Parsi community had organized a grand event at NCPA, Nariman Point, where India’s Field Marshal Sam Manekshaw was to be honored.
We reached the venue. The outer area was crowded. I carefully escorted him through the crowd into the hall. Inside too, the auditorium was packed, buzzing with cheers and Parsi songs. Someone was already speaking on stage.
As soon as we entered, the announcer stopped and declared the arrival of Sam Bahadur.
The hall fell silent for a moment — then erupted in thunderous applause. Everyone rose to their feet, chanting “Sam! Sam!” in unison.
A welcome song began, sung by the entire gathering.
He was led to the chair placed at the center.
People began crowding around him — trying to touch him, to shake his hand, to speak a word or two with love and respect. Among them were some of the most eminent Parsi families of India.
I was acutely aware of my duty — gently but firmly requesting people to move back, trying to create space around him.
And then… I witnessed something extraordinary.
A tall, graceful man — over six feet — came forward.
He quickly knelt down on one knee on the floor, held Sam’s hand lovingly in both of his, touched it to his head and lips, and began speaking softly, humbly, seated right at the Field Marshal’s feet.
I politely asked the man to move aside, but he looked up at me kindly and said with quiet assurance,
"Don’t worry, son. Sam is ours. We will take care of him."
His eyes were filled with compassion, respect, love, and confidence. Even his gaze conveyed honor toward the uniform I wore.
I stepped back instantly and replied, “Yes, sir.”
I looked around the hall — the audience was filled with legendary families: Godrej, Wadia, Poonawalla, Bhabha, Mistry… It struck me what a remarkable community this was — what immense contributions they had made to our nation’s greatness.
The smallest of minorities — yet from business to defense, from social work to science — their service to India was unparalleled. Without reservations or expectations from the government, they had given so much to the country.
Then I wondered — where was the jewel of this Parsi community? Where was the head of the Tata family?
And at that very moment, it struck me.
My eyes welled up. My posture straightened unconsciously — spine erect, chest forward, feet together — and from my heart, I offered a crisp salute.
The man kneeling at the feet of India’s greatest soldier, Field Marshal Sam Manekshaw, was none other than Ratan Tata himself!
Yes — the great Ratan Tata — one of India’s richest and most respected industrialists.
His eyes overflowed with reverence for the Field Marshal.
It was a moment where the emperor of Indian industry saluted the emperor of the Indian Army — a tribute of pure respect and humility.
That moment remains the most inspiring of my life.
Though Ratan Tata and Sam Bahadur never met again, both remain forever at the highest peak of my memories.
Even today, I can still see that reassuring gaze and hear that gentle voice echoing in my ears:
"Don’t worry, son. Sam is ours. We will take care of him."
A humble tribute on the first remembrance day of the late Ratan Tata.
---— Major General Vijay Jagtap 🇮🇳🙏
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