True Story
1984
I have a desperate desire to join NCC (National Cadet Corps). I want to join the armed forces, win a war for Mother India and impress girls. I think girls have a thing for boys in uniform. Clearly, I have plenty of time to indulge in these fantasies.
“Nitya, do you think I will be selected in NCC? what do they look for?” I probe.
“They look for fearlessness and guts. You have extraordinary skills in danger sport like War-War, Chor Police, Aba-Dubi, Lagori and Jhaad Bandar. Tereko pakka select karega re. Bindaas jaa” Nityanand responds with a tinge of a smile.
“Saala, ye mera sumdi le raha hai kya? I wonder.
“You know what, he is right. I am awesome at Danger Sport. In a war-war game where you aim at the enemy by pointing fingers (max 2 fingers) and then shoot by shouting “Drrrr” (machine gun) or “Dishkyaawn” (Rifle shot), my hand moves faster than light and my howl is louder than thunder. In Jhaad Bandar, I am so fast that I earned the title ‘Jhaad Bandar ka Cheetah!
I have a huge competitive advantage. I am so thin so skinny that I can hide behind a stem of a tiny plant. In hazardous sport like Aba dubi and Lagori, it’s impossible to hit me with the ball. I just turn right angle to avoid the incoming ball. No wonder, Raghvendra gave me a nick name 2D (inspired by G2).” I reflect.
10th July 1984, the NCC selection day is finally here.
84 students are present, and we are asked to stand in a line.
Mr. Sharma Sir who is the head of AEC Schools, Mumbai – NCC for Boys – Mah-5 Battalion of Army wing will be selecting students. We were warned that he is a Despotic Tyrant.
As he walks in, there is an aura of fear. There is an eerie silence.
He inspects each student for exactly one minute, makes some notes and moves on to the next student. My heart thundered as he stood in front of me and stared at me for a minute.
“All of you can leave. The list will be put up on the notice board tomorrow.” He announced and walked away.
What!?! That’s it? No Obstacle course, No Monkey bar… nothing?!?
I am extremely disappointed and worried. “How will sir know that I totally deserve to be in NCC!”
All of us look at one another thinking “What just happened? How will he select?”
Bhaskar declares “If your two knees don’t touch while standing, you will be selected” All of us stand and start checking. Ashish is nervous as his knees touch each other.
Next day, the 40 selected students’ names are put up and my name is on the list. I am dizzy with delight and unable to contain my grin.
We are asked to collect the NCC uniform.
I am handed a shorts. It is heavily starched and feels like a cardboard in hand.
I hold it in front of me and blurt, “Kya hai ye? ye to Skirt hai. Ulta Umbrella jaisa”.
“Shut up and try it on. If it doesn’t fall off, take it and leave.” he replied curtly.
I wear and it feels like I am wearing a strap on my waist and naked below it.
Man’s uniform must make a powerful statement, so I go to my tailor and get it’s shape altered.
I proudly show my NCC uniform to Amma and Dad.
Amma (As usual): “So… Handsome”.
Dad (As usual): “Become worthy of the Wardi”.
On the NCC orientation day, sir lectured us on the Motto of NCC – Unity and Discipline, how NCC training will develop our personality by instilling qualities like patriotism, discipline, team spirit, leadership, and self-confidence.
I am really pumped.
Every Tuesday at 1500 Hrs, we – the recruits – report for the NCC class.
We learnt the fundamentals of parade. Saavdhan, Vishram, Daayen mud, Piche mud… so on. We did it wearing thick uniform, heavy shoes, and a weird cap. The march past was strenuous as it involved lifting our legs high up and swinging of hands! It was risky too. I learnt the hard way not to be behind or in front of a tall guy. I had blows on my nose and kicks on my butt.
The commander had to shout the order at the top of his voice. I could see his neck veins bursting with stress. Why not give orders in a normal voice? We are just12, we can hear.
And all this under blazing hot sun. The cap generated so much heat that I was worried one day my hair will catch fire!
One month passed. Two months. Three months. Four months. We were still doing the same exhausting parade.
No sign of any danger sports during NCC Class. I had envisioned commando training like the Navy Seals. I worship Arnold Schwarzenegger and want to be like him. But here we are focused on Left Right Left. Ek…. Ek…. Ek Do Ek.
And this is suppose to develop our personality? Leadership? Teamwork? patriotism?
How?
I felt patriotic in history class. I learn more about teamwork in a PT period.
While we are slogging, our non-NCC friends are chilling at home.
Every week, without fail, Jagga would come up to me and ask “NCC training kaisa tha? Kuch Adventure activities? Any obstacle course training?”.
I hid my exasperation with a big smile.
Bahut naa-insaafi hai.
The Camp
Finally, the day we were all waiting is here. Sir announced:
“We are going for a 10-Day NCC Annual Training Camp (ATC) on 17th Dec.”
A wave of excitement rippled throughout the classroom, followed by an explosion of cheers.
I can’t hide my happiness and talk about the upcoming camp with all my family and friends. My whole world knows about the NCC Camp now.
I dream of going far into a dense jungle, bathing under the waterfall, playing in the river, making friends with the wild animals just like Tarzan. I fantasize about all the fun stuff like putting up our own tents, campfire, Barbeque, plucking fruits…
Next day, Sir called to give us the details of the ATC Camp.
Entire class is buzzing with excitement. Everybody is chirpy and full of energy.
“The NCC camp in 6-days. It will be held in School#1.”
Pin-drop silence.
Anthony reluctantly asks “Sir, you mean our school#1 near sector market in Anushaktinagar?”
“Yes”
Our hearts sink. WTF!?!
“S.I.R, THIS-IS-NOT-ACCEPTABLE-TO-US. School#1 is just 500 meters away from home. After all that months of parading in the blistering hot sun, you have the audacity to choose the campsite that is closer than the place where we buy our daily vegetables? It is in middle of our colony surrounded by residential buildings. This is worse than my sister and her friends’ adventure picnic under a tree in our building. This is ridiculous. We will B.O.Y.C.O.T.T this camp.”.
Aisa maine Socha, Bola nahi.
Ashwin hesitantly got up and asked “Sir, is the NCC Camp compulsory?”
“Yes, you idiot. Shut up and sit down.”
Entire class is disappointed and sad. We were helpless.
Word spread about our campsite and there was no place to hide. We had become a butt of all the jokes that followed.
Nityanand hunted me down and asked “I heard, NCC Camp hai next week. Tumlog train se jaa raha hai ki plane se?”
I wanted to punch him in the face, but we were not trained in that. I just paraded away.
Day 1 |17th December 1984.10:00 Hours
We report at the campsite – S.C.H.O.O.L # 1. Over 2000 Students from various 40 schools had come for the camp.
Our staying arrangement is quite simple and elegant. We are dumped in an empty classroom. 20 boys cramped in one room.
Our routine were getting set. We had to collect the Morning tea from a kitchen about 500m away – in a Steel bucket, for all the 40 students. I am just glad we didn’t have to get it for 2000!
The daytime ofcourse was all about parade. In the evening, we played games like football, Kho-Kho, sang a lot of songs and did shero-shayari.
Day 3 | Breakfast, Lunch and Birdshit
It’s beautiful winter morning, so Anthony, Partha, and I volunteer to get the tea. We collect and carry back the hot tea in the steel bucket.
As we cross under a tree, we hear “Plop”.
A crow decided to poop right into our hot tea.
Anthony and I look at each other.
He picks a leaf from the ground, dips it in the bucket and throws away the crow crap.
“Jitu, chup chaap baith. No need to tell anyone. Kuch nahi hoega. The tea will Taste the same”.
I just nod hesitatingly.
Partha was confused and blurts “Mai nahi piyega. I am a vegetarian”.
Tea is distributed with a poker face.
“Chai mast hai re” expressed Naushad.
Anto, Partha and I exchange a glance and smile. Ignorance is indeed bliss!
For lunch. we stood in a long line. Roti is thrown and Rice is dropped in the almost clean aluminium plate. Sabji and Daal is poured all over it.
Remember the flapping of the wet shirt before you dry it on the rope? I flap the huge roti to remove all the flour (aata) on it. No, No there is no risk of the roti tearing off due to all that flapping. It is so strong that we can play tug-of-war with it.
Day 5 | Weapon Training
“Tomorrow is the weapon training day. You will learn about the rifle and shooting. I expect each one of you to maintain the butt discipline.” Sir revealed.
Hoots of laughter filled the room.
“Firing range is called butt. The discipline on the firing range is called butt discipline.” Sir clarified with a stern face.
“Basically, it means stay disciplined, fire from the Gun, not from the Butt.” quipped Venkat.
At the butt, we learn how to use the .303 rifle, loading/unloading, bolt manipulation, how to fire with a lying position etc.
Exuberance bubbled inside me as the Army Jawan handed over the rifle to me. As soon he left his hand, I went down with the gun and the rifle-butt landed on my foot. “Aaah..” the burst of shooting pain was too much. It was so heavy. Jawan rolled his eyes and picked up the gun and moved on.
“Ok, recruits, it’s time to shoot for real” declared the Range Officer.
“You have 5 bullets to fire at the target. Those with maximum points will be given an award”. He discloses.
By now, you are aware that I have extraordinary skills in shooting due to war-war experience. “Medal to mujhe hi milega”
A batch of 5 is made to shoot at the target. Vinod is on my left and Sandeep is on my right. We get into Prone position (lying on the ground) to fire the bullets.
After shooting, we exchange excited glances. I feel good about my performance.
The Jawan hands us our respective “bulleted” target to be taken to Range Officer to record the points.
I hold my “bulleted” target sheet.
“Sir, my shooting is just done. I want MY-POST-FIRING-TARGET-SHEET, not a fresh one.” I assert.
“You, idiot. that is YOUR-POST-FIRING-TARGET-SHEET.”
“Ha-Ha-Ha-Ha…“ Vinod and Sandeep almost died laughing.
We look at Vinod’s sheet and are perplexed.
“How come I have more than 5 bullet marks?”
Then they have a big smile. They both look at me and shake their head in disbelief.
I was gutted. All that training and hard work of war-war went down the drain. That very moment I took a decision.
“I am going to be a messenger of peace – No Guns. I ended my potentially great career in the sport of War-War.”
Day 6 | Break-Dance at Midnight
Although I felt homesick at times, I started liking the camp. We started growing in confidence and few started getting into their elements.
At midnight (00:00 hrs), Sardar Bhupinder Singh decided to climb into one of the classrooms (where some other school kids were put up), let loose his long flowing tresses, put a lighted agarbatti in his mouth and did a break dance across the room.
He took special care to slap the sleeping cadets on their rump with a rubber slipper and tickle a few selected student’s face with his hair which was thrown over his own face.
The cadet woke up in jolt to see a scary face in his face, with a glowing mouth and long tresses. His heart clenched with dread, and he screamed “AAAIIIIIEEEEEAAAAAAAAAIIIEEEE”
A massive pandemonium erupted. Bhupinder escaped through the window. We ran back to our room.
One of the boys got so scared that he developed a fever instantly. Thankfully no heart-attacks.
They logged a complaint at 0200 hrs. Then at about 0300 hrs Army Jawans poured into our classroom (they had figured out only one of us could have done it) and started waking us up lovingly with their army boots. Since my mattress was nearest to the door, I was one of the first to receive their loving wakeup call.
The next hour was spent in the position of a cockerel (murga) and a healthy dose of the jawan’s vocabulary. That day I realised that a Jawan’s command over the Hindi language was far more than what our NCERT Hindi textbooks could ever teach us!
Day 8 | The Great Cross Country Race
I was part of the cross-country run team. We had worked hard training for the cross country. We won the team event – thanks to 1st and 2nd position performance by Anand and Ravindra respectively.
Post race, Ravindra had tears – tears of joy – as he finished the race as a runner-up among 300 runners.
The medal ceremony was immediately after the race. Post ceremony, Ravindra was in tears – again. This time because he was not given a medal. He was given silver cup, a silver colored steel ka glass! Yes, a lota a tumbler. (as seen in the picture)
Ravi is visibly upset.
“Chal Ravi , team picture ke liye”
“I am not standing in the picture with this” He thunders.
“If it was a medal, I would have been happy. A picture with this lota in hand? Feels like I am waiting for chaas to be poured in”.
“it’s OK yaar. You stood 2nd among 300 runners. It’s a solid achievement” trying to console him.
Ravindra’s anger rises and he barks looking at me “Here… take it. You stand holding this. I don’t want it.”
I am trying my best not to burst laughing.
Our sir walks up. “Jitu, Ravi, c’mon fast.”
He reluctantly joined and held the cup.
I got an opportunity to finally laugh when I was facing camera (= not facing Ravi)
Day 9 | Ting Ting
On the penultimate of the camp, we had had a very long and tiring day. We are totally exhausted and many including James went slept early.
Kadar – the notorious, mischievously says “Jitu, I have an idea.”
“Tereko idea aata hai to mujhe darr lagta hai”
“Arey nahi re. Tu dekh, Maza aaega. Get that rope we used to learn various knots. Let’s practice tying a knot.” He asserts.
By the time, I am back with the rope, he is sitting next to James who is in deep sleep.
Kadar looks around and with finger on his lips says “shhhhhh”
Then like a seasoned surgeon, leans forward to delicately unbutton his pants. Then unzips and slowly pulls the pants down.
6 are sleeping, rest 12 stare at Kadar and James. We watch Kadar in deep silence.
No one blinks or moves as he slowly pulls his underwear down…
WOAH! There it was.
“Jitu, rassi de”. Whispers Kadar. I hand over the rope.
“Baburaj, please be at the door and let me know if someone comes” says Kadar in hushed tone.
Kadar makes Square Knot with the rope and plants the rope knot on James’ di**. And slowly tightens it.
All of us squirm and then grin at the same time.
“With this knot, usko dukhega nahi and secure bhi rahega”. explains Kadar.
We Just nod together.
He throws the other end of the rope over a long rod on the ceiling. He catches it as it comes down from the other side of the rod. The rod acts like a pulley.
Woah!! 7 of the boys groan.
“Shhhhh”
Kadar holds the other end of rope and pulls it gently.
All of us watch the rope movement.
Kadar stops. All of us look at Kadar.
Then with wicked smile, Kadar pulls the rope gently,
28 eyes watch James’s thing move up.
Kadar gives 2 gentle pulls and blurts “Ting Ting”.
We are on the floor and laugh uncontrollably….
“Shhhh Shhhh Shhhh…” Kadar tries to Shhh us down.
Kadar does ting ting a few times. We are unable to control our laugh.
“Mai bhi. Mai bhi.” Rajesh pleads Kadar
“Bhai, jor se nahi.” Warns Kadar.
No… No… not because it will hurt James. He didn’t want James to wake up. He wanted everyone to experience the joy of doing “Ting Ting”.
Our man James is sleeping in absolute bliss.
Suddenly, without any warning, Baburaj cries out “Sir is here” and switches the lights off.
We panic. Its dark, people bump into each other. Some stamp on the one’s sleeping… total commotion but no noise.
Sir opens the door. He switches the lights on and…
WOAH! What a sight?
Half-naked cadet. One end of the Rope tied to his di** and other end dangling via the rod on the ceiling!
In uncontrolled rage, he barks “Everyone get up”.
Get up fast and GET OUT. FALL IN LINE. E.V.E.R.Y.O.N.E”
Finally, James wakes up. He looks totally disoriented. First, looks up and then looks down. His eyes widen in alarm and his jaw dropped open as he sees the rope tied to his pen**.
He slowly undoes the knot. And pulls his underwear and zips up his pants.
All of us get up and we fall in line on the corridor.
“Whoever did this, come forward. “
Silence.
“Tell me otherwise all of you will be sent back.” Sir threatens.
Still silence.
“All of you stand here all night.” And sir leaves.
James is furious. “Kaun kiya?” No one said a word. He tries a few more times but doesn’t work.
We stood on the corridor all night.
Among 100s of thoughts, the dominating thought was “Solid re. No one ratted out. All of them showed tremendous unity, cooperation, self-confidence, and teamwork.”
Day 10 | The Ultimate U-Turn
Sir came in the morning, smiled, and said,
“You boys are incorrigible; Go back to your room”.
That’s it. He didn’t say anything more.
May be his dominating thought was same as mine. Maybe he thought he has one more year to fix us!
To me, Camp experience changed everything. I even started liking the parade!
Today, when I look back, I believe 2 years in NCC definitely helped in shaping our minds. Sharma Sir, while strict, loved us and helped us grow. Small wonder he won the President’s medal for the Best Teacher. He is my Hero.
Given a chance to join NCC, would I do it all over again? Absolutely Yes.
2 comments
Awesome Read…
Another hilarious story, well done Jitu. You paint such a vivid picture, I always feel like I am right there going thru these moments and lmao! 🤣😂🤣