IT was 1998 and I was commanding my regiment, 63 Cavalry, at Patiala. I was travelling by Shatabdi to Ambala after a brief visit to Delhi. My fellow passenger was a simple man whom I did not know and recognise. He was trying to read a Hindi newspaper and was immersed in his thoughts. He didn’t seem to be well  and looked decidedly uncomfortable. On my request, the train examiner made an announcement for a doctor, but surprisingly, except for an odd neem hakim, no one came forward. At Karnal, I insisted that the old man was given proper medical attention at the next station, Ambala Cantt. The railway staff reluctantly agreed to arrange for a doctor, who examined and treated  him at the next stop.As I took leave of him, he thanked me and invited me to visit Rock Garden, which we did in the form of a regimental picnic. We had the ultimate pleasure of being shown around by the creator and hear his story. My regiment had its share of station responsibilities, which entailed beautification and aesthetics, but there was no financial support. We decided to tap Nek Chand, who most graciously agreed to train a couple of our soldiers in the basics of his art. He visited the regiment to conduct a training workshop. He was thrilled to take a tank ride and got himself photographed in the cupola. After his visit, a number of Nek Chand statues sprang up in Patiala and our Station Commander termed it ‘Nek Chandisation’. For want of a better term, they were referred to it as Nek Chands — like my regiment would say that we have installed a dozen Nek Chands at the Golf Course. The children took a liking for him and called him ‘Rock Star’.My association with the grand old man proliferated his art to places where I served, including Nagaland, Sikkim, Hisar, Babina and Bhopal. Every time we sent a team, he got them skilled, creating a pool of trainers, all ‘gratis’ due to his love for the armed forces. As he aged, his involvement reduced, but he always visited the trainees at least once. Whenever we de-briefed our boys, they were full of praise and sense of involvement of the great artist, who genuinely believed in skilling others. He was also a practical teacher, who innovated new utility-oriented figurines, like traffic cops, to substitute and economise on manpower. His forte remained recycling of discarded waste material, maintenance-free creations at a low cost.Last year, before he passed away, we installed some Nek Chand statues at Shivalik Golf Course in Chandimandir. His figures stand as a testimony to his contribution to functional aesthetics in military stations. To a great friend and real Rock Star, who would have turned 92, here is a ‘General salute’, richly deserved for his contribution to society and special love for the forces.