The First Time

It’s been the usual morning more or less…at least after a gap of almost a month of waking up and living the military regimen. Getting through the Naval Academy/NDA written tests is good, getting recommended by the SSB thence even better but being told you cannot serve in the Navy for want of a better eyesight after having spent a month at Bangalore for your medicals absolutely sucks. It’s difficult to convince yourself to serve in the Army after having known you were that close to being able to fly a jet in the Indian Navy…it’s even worse though to come back to the drudgery of attending an engineering college.

Well, needless to say, I was returning from Bangalore on the back of a month long regimen of experiencing up close and personal what a life in the armed forces might be like. Worse, feeling a tad disappointed at the fact that I missed out and would have to settle for the life in the slow lane. I was definitely gonna miss being woken up in the mornings at 5 a.m. with the chant of “Utho…Utho…Utho…OOOOTHO, OOOOOTHHOOO, OOOOOOTTTHHHHOOOOOO!” Then having a fabulous English breakfast and then being briefed on the schedule for the day. Well, I reckon it wouldn’t be right to divulge the other details of what happens in there on a public forum. So, in short to sum it all up, it was a fantabulous experience that was gonna be etched in the memory for a lifetime to come…I’d be proudly telling my grandkids these tales for sure!

Anyhow, coming back to Poona was a mixed bag of emotions. I have to date never been as sad going back to my hometown than I was on that trip back home. And for more reasons than just having missed the bus to the Naval Academy (or should I say the jet?) I was travelling in the 3^rd class of the Indian Railways for the first time in my lifetime! I had initially thought it would be quite an experience but when I got there to get into the train, my expectations took a major downward revision. The platform was already filled with foul-mouthed folk, speaking languages I could only make a guess of and even before the train had docked in at the station, arguments and fights were rife. A few gentlemen had already reached a boiling point and were inches short of landing blows at each other. This was surely looking up already.

I stood there looking bemusedly at the crowd of people that were flocking to get into the coach wondering how I was gonna manage a seat for myself. I guess the coolies have an eye for easy prey or perhaps they have a good idea that a boy wearing cargos, a denim jacket and carrying a Reebok haversack doesn’t really use the 3^rd class very often, so making me the beneficiary of an offer to ‘buy’ myself a seat for a 100 bucks (with my bargaining prowess, I was able to bring down the ransom from this offer of a 100 bucks to…a 100 bucks!) What the heck, atleast I’d get to sit, and with a window seat was what I was told. Well, so I paid him 50 bucks as advance and towed myself in line with him waiting where he told me to wait. After the coaches were opened to the public, I saw my coolie jump in with lithe agility seen in panthers and inspired by him (added with the arrogance of having proven myself as ‘almost’ one of the best of the youth of this nation) I took the leap of faith too. It wasn’t as difficult as I’d imagined it to be and without his help, I was able to land myself a window seat. My coolie took one of the two seats at the side and I took the one opposite him. He was more than surprised to see me sit opposite him and the opportunist in him sold that one to another gentleman for the same price he had quoted to me. He didn’t ask me for the other 50 bucks but I am sure he was just glad I didn’t ask him to gimme back what he’d already received.

The rest of the journey was just as nondescript. I slept through the night with my bag on one side as a pillow-cum-mattress, tightly snuggled in my jacket, constantly being prodded by someone or the other to allow them to share my seat. The humane side in me wanted to let ‘em sit but my butt was sore enough from sitting on the unpadded seat to tell my mind to refuse the honest intentions of my generous conscience. Having been used to waking up at 5 a.m. by now, I was obviously expected to wake up at the said time. However, I am a tough cookie and after all, bad habits die hard. Not even those guys could mend my strong will and I still managed to wake up at 11 a.m. unaffected by all the commotion and shouting around me. I had slept for an unbelievable 14 hours straight in conditions that would at best be described as hostile. Sleeping for 14 hours in the most uncomfortable seats available in the Indian Railway System does have it’s side-effects though, commonly manifesting themselves as a really sore back and a butt that is so numb, it refuses to be identified as yours. As a consideration for my sore arse and as pity for my poor back, I decided to give up my throne for the remnant part of the journey, which in my case stood translated as an hour and a half, and decided to travel on the footboard (which in hindsight was a bad decision as the footboard already had more humans squeezed on it than were geometrically possible) I freshened up at the next station, got myself some Omlettes and transferred myself into the sleeper-class bogie. I travelled the remnant part sharing a seat with an elderly couple who made for quite a conversation.

Next morning I was in the college bus on my way to attend the first day after a gap of a month. The people in the bus had already erased all memory of me or at least did not take cognizance of my presence on board the bus. My sole source of comfort would’ve been R had he been in the bus…since he wasn’t, I was left to entertain myself with the sights and sounds of early morning traffic through the streets of Poona. At least when I walked into class, I had SA who welcomed me with an open embrace. Well at least someone still remembered who I was! The next two lectures were good fun, especially since the first was the Maths lecture and the teach, Mrs. K, a favourite with both me and SA. It didn’t take her long to notice my presence and what followed was a half an hour long interrogation of where I had been and how the trip was culminating into the inevitable question of how I intended to cover up for all the progress that had been made academically in my absence! ~Sigh~ Academics! The next lecture wasn’t bad either, it was the Chemistry prof that walked in. The same script played out again and I was duly informed that I’d have to meet the vice-principal at the earliest. I decided to walk out of class right then rather than be subject to further questioning of my whereabouts. I found the vice-principal, Prof. J in the staff room and spent the next hour answering a gazillion questions from the entire staff. For the first time, I was able to fully appreciate the term “Saved by the bell” as the recess bell came to my rescue and I was permitted to leave as the staff left for tea.

As soon as I had stepped out, I walked into R who immediately engulfed me into his, ummm…, for want of a better word, R-ey embrace. “Ssup homey! New division opened for new admissions since your departure, wanna check the women out?” was the first thing outta his mouth…ah…some things thankfully never change! Expecting much the disappointment that I had come to associate with the crowd in college, I consented. As we walked upstairs along the corridor cracking sarcastic jokes, women being just an excuse to take a walk and catch up on lost time, I began narrating the adventures of my time at Bangalore. Smack in the middle of describing the English breakfast, I looked up into the classroom and saw her standing there with a bunch of other nondescript women. She looked at me, smiled a knowing smile that said “Me too” and returned my gaze. I can still close my eyes and recollect that moment to every single detail - the green door, the green benches,the sunlight at the end of the corridor, the three women around her, R saying some crap to the tune of ‘Dude, you with me?’ but more importantly, her. Her curly hair left to hang open around her shoulders, a white and black tank top, blue denims, a thick white belt around her waist, and most importantly, her smile and those brown henna colored eyes that had me hypnotized. I don’t know how long I stood there without uttering a word simply staring back at her. Maybe a moment, maybe an eternity but surely, my life condensed in whatever is that frame. I guess I knew even back then, that first time that I had seen her,

‘It would not be the moments of joy,

Nor the moments of strife,

It would be the moments I’d spend with her,

In which I’d live my life…’