King Kahlon of Kashmir

Gurbachan Jagat

A couple of days after taking over as Director General of Police, Jammu and Kashmir, in February 1997, we flew from Jammu to the Valley to take stock of the situation (the state government headquarters was in Jammu because of the winter). I also took the opportunity to pay obeisance at the Hazratbal shrine and the Chati Padshahi gurdwara at Srinagar. We had gone in the state helicopter (a single-engine four-seater) piloted by JS Kahlon, who was also the head of the Civil Aviation Department. On the way back to Jammu, after crossing the Pir Panjal range, I noticed the helicopter veering off-course towards what appeared to be a conglomeration of buildings on a hillside. Before I could even enquire, we were rapidly descending towards the buildings and lo and behold, landed on a small rooftop. Kahlon asked us to get off quickly and have darshan at the Mata Vaishno Devi shrine. He had landed right in front of the cave and did not turn off the engines. Both of us ran for the darshan, bowed and came back running to the helicopter, which then took off for Jammu. I was aghast at the display of bravado and rule-breaking, but Kahlon insisted that for the success of my tenure, this was a must (the shrine authorities subsequently placed a big boulder in the middle of the roof to discourage him). This was my first introduction to the man who was a living legend to his former Air Force mates and civil aviators — King Kahlon, recipient of Shaurya Chakra.

Every time you flew with him, it was an experience and one learned why he was the King. On normal days of flying over Pir Panjal, you would see a dark cloud cover and many a time I suggested we return to base — but no such luck. He would go on hovering and probing till he found a tiny opening and off we went through it as I exhaled a long-held breath. Then there were times when we went to Kargil and Ladakh. It was mandatory to carry oxygen cylinders and start using them at 8,000 feet — with Kahlon, the cylinder rarely appeared and we often flew over Zanskar Pass much above 8,000 feet. There was a problem of wind currents near the top and we had to cross over before noon. One time we got late and I, as usual, requested him to turn back, but he went on climbing till I realised that the copter had come to a standstill because of the crosswinds. I looked at him while he kept on manipulating the controls till he found some sideward movement. Immediately, he spun the copter around like a show-jumper would prime a horse and off we went across the Pass. That was Kahlon — a brilliant, talented pilot who revelled in pushing the limits of both man and machine.

There were no routine dull rides with the King, you were on the edge of the seat all the time. He was very familiar with the terrain and had a very good eye for the unusual. While flying one day over the mountains, he descended slowly and pointed out a group of three or four armed men below and assured me they were militants. We did pass on the information but the place was not easily accessible. This alertness helped in an audacious rescue made by him before I had joined in J&K. A group of foreigners had been kidnapped by militants near Pahalgam. A massive manhunt was launched, with no success. The King happened to be flying a sortie when he noticed a man scrambling on the edge of a cliff. He flew over the place and noticed that he was a foreigner and quickly found a tiny place on the ledge where he could land. It was a precarious landing but he made it. The man was rescued — simple as it sounds, it says much for not only his flying prowess but also his observation. Lt Gen Saklani (then Adviser to the J&K government) was also in the helicopter. It was a daredevil rescue with a mix of grit and professionalism; kudos to both of them — but then, the King was flying.

There had been other occasions also when he had narrowly cheated death. Once while passing over Dal Lake, his helicopter just dropped like a stone into the lake — probably engine failure. However, the King, along with his passengers, walked out alive. Then, there was an occasion during my tenure when he had taken some tourists, probably French, to the higher ranges for skiing. He would drop some of them at the top and come back to the beginning of the track to pick the rest. On one of these sorties, the engine failed and the chopper went down into a very deep ravine. When first reports came in, it looked to be a total disaster. However, rescue operations were mounted and another miracle unfolded: the King and the tourists were alive and kicking. They were picked up but there was no way of bringing up the wreckage. At this point, the reader would be justified in enquiring as to why this daredevil was allowed to continue for such a long time. The short answer is his employer, the CM, Dr Farooq Abdullah, who is a risk-taker par excellence and a daredevil in his own right. He knew every inch of the state, the names of the villages we flew over and in the knowledge of the terrain, even the King was no match for him. We were flying back to Jammu along the highway once when the King pointed out a dhaba where they had stopped earlier. Down we went and landed near the highway. The owner came running and Doctor Sahib embraced him and shortly hot mugs of masala tea and pakoras were being passed around (not a single instruction had been given to the owner). Soon, vehicular traffic stopped as people realised the good Doctor was present. It was a mini public meeting with the CM in full flow. Finally, as it was getting towards twilight and frantic messages were coming from the control room, which was in the dark about our location, we took off. There were many such instances and it was his way of staying in touch with his people. He is a strange mix of an elitist and a commoner.

During the early days of the Kargil war, we were flying back from the front and it was getting late. However, the CM noted a large gathering of men near Sonamarg. Down we went and found out that they were Armymen who had just been dropped off. They had come from Roorkee. It was numbing cold but they still had summer uniforms on. The CM started interacting with the jawans and officers, as only he could, offering encouragement and lightening the mood. Back, he held meetings to discuss as to what we could do to make them more comfortable. We were fighting a war (the Army at the front and police and paramilitary forces in the heartland). What enabled the entire apparatus to deliver was the backing we received from Prime Minister Vajpayee at the Centre and CM Abdullah in the state. It was this constant support which enabled risk-taking and aggressive, proactive measures. Leadership at such times is forged in the crucible of fire and experience — a wartime General has to push the limits of his men and think laterally.

To the uninitiated, all this might sound like misuse or grandstanding, or even callousness. The hard fact is that extreme situations and circumstances are handled by leaders who have the ability to think out of the box, who have the gumption, the courage and the conviction to lead from the front, not by paper pushers sitting on desks in headquarters. It was with their backing that the King flew at the edge and all of us gained from it.

The King is no longer with us. It happened after I had left J&K — during a routine sortie to the Amarnath shrine in bad weather, the copter went down after getting entangled in electric wires. This time the King did not walk away. All the daredevilry and then the wires —what a way to go! King Kahlon, rest in peace.

— The writer is ex-chairman of UPSC, former Manipur Governor and served as J&K DGP

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