Friday, July 28, 2006

the early years (1974 - 1992)

I come from an Armed Forces background. My father began his stint in the army with The Deccan Horse, one of the most decorated regiments in Indian history, went on to command the 67th Armoured Regiment and then served with General Bipin Joshi as his Deputy MS, Western Command.

All my growing up years were spent in army contonements being part of the army life. Seeing my father endure the 2/3 month long stints in the deserts of India on "exercise" every year and not knowing if he was alive or dead during Operation Brasstacks in December 1986/ Jan 1987 was tough. On the other hand, seeing my mother try and bring up the family in a meagre income, sometimes living in temporary accomodation (barracks)and very limited exposure to the outside world was even tougher. But this is all in hindsight.

While I was growing up, seeing your father in different uniforms, the kind of respect and awe he commanded from the troops, the palatial bunglows with huge gardens we mostly lived in, the sports facilities, the army clubs (especially the Annexe in Ahmednagar and the RSI in Pune), the open air theatres, May Queen Ball, tambola, the burgers, the tomato soup with bread crumbs, the awesome libraries, community celebration of the Diwali, Holi and Christmas festivals, sleeping in the watered garden in mosquito nets with one radio playing "Faugi Bhaiyon Ke Liye" the comaraderie, brotherhood and mutual respect amongst the officers and the feeling of family within this closely knit community was something really special.

All of the above was as much a part of our life as, only 2 pairs of shoes (one black pair for school and one Bata green soled sports shoe), Kendriya Vidyalaya (government schools for those who don't know), travelling in those army trucks back and forth from school (they were called 3-tons) or on Hero/ Atlas cycles, a extremely disciplined and regimented life, travelling in second class non AC bogies sitting near the door, constant change of cities every two years, those white garden chairs (the ones that had a metal frame with the threaded/ netted plastic that broke with too much pressure..I remember they used to always sink into the lawn), the middle class grounding with the constant pressure exerted by the environment, community and family to do something in life and the fat gossiping mommies playing tambola and cards every other day

I remember my father sold his ambassador car to put us three children into hostel. I went to Delhi Public School, RK Puram, New Delhi. Although I count those three years in boarding as the worst years of my life, I think I learnt a lot. When I think back to those days, those experiences still make me bitter but I am glad I got that exposure. I made some great friends in DPS (actually I can think of only two)
, played a lot of sport, smartened up, got bullied, discovered how to stand up for one self) discovered girls and all the associated pleasures, fell in love for the first time, understood what being rich means, went to parties and understood what competition means.

I had a horrific accident those days and landed up with some 300+ stitches, 2 metal plates, K wires and 12 titanium screws in my upper left arm. Still carry the scars today. And it was all done to impress the coolest chick in school. Sounds so stupid, now when I think of it. But it was worth it.

So by now, I had passed class 10th. But I was still quite a baby. There was a whole life still ahead of me and I had no plans for it.

2 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

"wonder" is what you need in your life. rest will follow - sonofapussykisser

5:43 PM  
Blogger Vandana Dhaul said...

Mayank....as someone who has had an opportunity of watching u close-up ..both at DPS and in Pune i must admit that it has come as a big surprise to see u doing so well in life. Keep up the gud work ...and here's wishing u great years ahead too.

9:03 PM  

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