As a child, i was always excited to see an aeroplane in the sky. As i grew up, i flew paper planes... As i grew further, i wanted to fly a real plane. After my higher secondary education,
i enquired about the cost to obtain a CPL. A sum of 13 lakh rupees was not at all affordable for me. For an instance, i thought, that the sky was the limit for my dreams.
Somewhere somehow, the idea of joining the defence struck my mind. Putting your dreams into reality with a sole purpose to serve your country was more justified than obtaining a loan to become a commercial pilot.
I preferred the sea than air, on account of my eyesight. On my trail of achieving my dreams, i met many people, went to many places,....struggled,.... laughed along with the souls who laughed upon me, patted on my shoulder myself,.. and still continues it through this blog.
In the last post, jana asked me a question. "How did an airport stood as an inspiration to achieve your dream?"... First and foremost i thank god that he gave me enough chances to pick or drop someone from or to the airport, usually, my brother-in-law or my sister.
By the time i got distracted from my dream, i would have got a chance to be in airport. When i see the smart chaps wearing stripes and peaked cap, smartly moving in with a black suit case, my mind would start spinning around the pivot of the dream near to impossibility.
Whom was i supposed to blame?.. Why didn't we have enough financial background to pursue my dream?. One day my eyes were wet thinking about all these things. I don't remember when did i took the decision to defeat my own fate, and convince myself that sky is not the limit....
Each time i left the airport, my mind would have filled with energy; the energy to fight against my own life, the courage to think out of boxes... After a short while, i ended up i the academy. Now its action time....
Food, Fuck and Fun... Thats what academy triangle consists of, from my point of view. Without the first two, there is no fun. The first 14 days in academy were called "Honeymoon period". We were enjoying the stay, the facilities and the beauty of academy like kings.
On the night of 14thday, just after dinner, the academy had a drastic change. We were called for reporting, in PT rigs. We didn't know what does the term "reporting" implies. Well thats the official name of the action prior to a punishment or taking charge or responsibility of something.
Later these punishment sessions were called "Ragada", "Bajaos", or more explicitly, "fuck ups". With legs tangling on the handrails and hands on ground, we opened the innings of the night. We were asked to siton toes, and jump up in the air, throwing our body like a star, and hence it is called "star jump".
Then we were asked to go for a 200m sprint, and were secured an a first cum first basis. Now we had to pair ourselves and carry one on shoulders called "camel carry". Just walking a few distance was not enough. We often had to do scotts bearing their weight.And after some more fuck ups, we were told by the senior that it was just a trailor, and movie was to follow soon. A few of them vomited, some became unconscious, but it didn't stop them from giving us regada. They made the conk off chaps upside down that blood rushed to their brains in a hurry
to wake him up. When i came to my room that night, i was too tired that i couldn't pull out my socks...
Drill is the bed rock of discipline, and parade ground is the farm were we bear its fruits. Silly things we ignore in civil world, like slackening the belt or shoe lace for a little comfort,
or scratching the foot with rifle in one hand, enjoying the aesthetics of the background while the instructors are briefing are serious offences. MOst of them will be succeeded by "Up rifle daudke chal", around the parade ground.
Sometimes they result in Extra drills, in which 8.5 rounds are to be completed in 30 mins. Thats about 6.4km . Sounds easy, but you are not running in a Nike shoe with a sipper in your hand. You have a drill boot as hard as rock, and a rifle in your hand, and sun shining on full throttle, above your head...
Life in academy is also filled with adventure. Cross country is the mother of all events. Running 11 km in 30 to 40 mins was not even in the dreams of many trainees.
Endurance camp was of much higher magnitude. We had night navigation, mini josh and josh runs. Each of them ranging between 25 to 40 kilometers in length. I remember that we were lost during our night navigation. The expedition that began on 0230 hours ended at 1640 hours the same day.
It was basically meant to reveal how much can we push ourselves beyond our limits. I was good in jod thod, in which we had to strip and assemble rifles. I did it in the same way i tap my fingers on my keyboard.
We had boat pulling, sailing, firing, NBCD exercise, and a whole lot of stuffs. The sea sortie was an unforgettable experience. We sailed for four days, slept in the space between machinery, as Russian made frigates offer rooms to machines, not to man.
You should have been there with me while we were transferred from one ship to another in a Gemini craft; climbing up and down the waves, was really a breathtaking experience.
There were good and bad times in academy. This was also a period of spiritual retreat for me, as we will stay close to god during our hardships. I realized my father's words that i will regret for not going to masses on weekdays during my college days.
I used to write diaries, prepare"Tang", have buffer food, drink raw milk in packets, during silent hours(sleeping time), secretly have 'pickle, salad, sauce and paapad on mess table, which were senior privileges. There is always some fun in violating the rules. Unless you risk yourselves, you won't enjoy the fun.
Study hours used to be my time to write letters. Jana was the person who annoyed me(hihi!..wink) the most. I wrote too much of letters that i ran out of envelopes, and finally paper too. I made envelopes of my own, and the last letter from academy to jana was written on tracing paper.
Letter was lighter than envelope. He too wrote to me in semi log graph papers which reminded me of my college days. It was letters which kept me moving during those days.
It takes about two weeks time to receive the reply for a letter. But the excitement in receiving the letter is beyond expression in words. I run to my cabin, and opens it like a child who got a Christmas gift. To all those who wrote to me, atleast once- You live in my heart.
I had the same happiness when i got a cup of tea in the morning and evening. In the morning, while most of them are getting dressed up, i will be standing in the courtyard, awaiting the hot teapot. The civilian bearer would always be late that we got only 2 mins to finish the hot tea. In the evening, i run to my squadron; may be from parade ground, swimming pool, or where ever it is.
One hard fact (prefer to call rather than sad fact) is that i didn't have any attachment with the academy. I made a few friends. Rest of them were acquaints. There were good and bad times in the academy, and its quite humane that you will remember most of them who stayed together, sharing the same pain in life, one way or the other.
Being a weak swimmer, i had spent majority of my end term recess time in swimming pool.Donny (name changed) too was a weak swimmer. We both used to share our frustrations and despairs sitting on the bench beside the pool. We promised that we will pass the test on same day. Else if someone passed ahead, then the other would have broken down. We kept our word. From the pool, i got a brother.
His mom prayed for us during our tough time, so did my mom. When our families met for the first time, the day before our POP, we felt as if we had been knowing each other for a long time.
The biggest lesson i learned during my training was that, whether rolling on ground during PT, losing the palms' skin in parade ground, getting fuck ups after a heavy dinner, getting psyched by sitting like a hen "murga" position, or running together for 80 to 100 kms within 4 days, men and women who share the same pain stay together; forever..
There are more of academy stories, to be followed in up comming posts. Unless they are coupled with life, they are meaningless. As the book "Belt, boots and beret" says, whatever happens in the academy is for good. Let us wait and see...
i enquired about the cost to obtain a CPL. A sum of 13 lakh rupees was not at all affordable for me. For an instance, i thought, that the sky was the limit for my dreams.
Somewhere somehow, the idea of joining the defence struck my mind. Putting your dreams into reality with a sole purpose to serve your country was more justified than obtaining a loan to become a commercial pilot.
I preferred the sea than air, on account of my eyesight. On my trail of achieving my dreams, i met many people, went to many places,....struggled,.... laughed along with the souls who laughed upon me, patted on my shoulder myself,.. and still continues it through this blog.
In the last post, jana asked me a question. "How did an airport stood as an inspiration to achieve your dream?"... First and foremost i thank god that he gave me enough chances to pick or drop someone from or to the airport, usually, my brother-in-law or my sister.
By the time i got distracted from my dream, i would have got a chance to be in airport. When i see the smart chaps wearing stripes and peaked cap, smartly moving in with a black suit case, my mind would start spinning around the pivot of the dream near to impossibility.
Whom was i supposed to blame?.. Why didn't we have enough financial background to pursue my dream?. One day my eyes were wet thinking about all these things. I don't remember when did i took the decision to defeat my own fate, and convince myself that sky is not the limit....
Each time i left the airport, my mind would have filled with energy; the energy to fight against my own life, the courage to think out of boxes... After a short while, i ended up i the academy. Now its action time....
Food, Fuck and Fun... Thats what academy triangle consists of, from my point of view. Without the first two, there is no fun. The first 14 days in academy were called "Honeymoon period". We were enjoying the stay, the facilities and the beauty of academy like kings.
On the night of 14thday, just after dinner, the academy had a drastic change. We were called for reporting, in PT rigs. We didn't know what does the term "reporting" implies. Well thats the official name of the action prior to a punishment or taking charge or responsibility of something.
Later these punishment sessions were called "Ragada", "Bajaos", or more explicitly, "fuck ups". With legs tangling on the handrails and hands on ground, we opened the innings of the night. We were asked to siton toes, and jump up in the air, throwing our body like a star, and hence it is called "star jump".
Then we were asked to go for a 200m sprint, and were secured an a first cum first basis. Now we had to pair ourselves and carry one on shoulders called "camel carry". Just walking a few distance was not enough. We often had to do scotts bearing their weight.And after some more fuck ups, we were told by the senior that it was just a trailor, and movie was to follow soon. A few of them vomited, some became unconscious, but it didn't stop them from giving us regada. They made the conk off chaps upside down that blood rushed to their brains in a hurry
to wake him up. When i came to my room that night, i was too tired that i couldn't pull out my socks...
Drill is the bed rock of discipline, and parade ground is the farm were we bear its fruits. Silly things we ignore in civil world, like slackening the belt or shoe lace for a little comfort,
or scratching the foot with rifle in one hand, enjoying the aesthetics of the background while the instructors are briefing are serious offences. MOst of them will be succeeded by "Up rifle daudke chal", around the parade ground.
Sometimes they result in Extra drills, in which 8.5 rounds are to be completed in 30 mins. Thats about 6.4km . Sounds easy, but you are not running in a Nike shoe with a sipper in your hand. You have a drill boot as hard as rock, and a rifle in your hand, and sun shining on full throttle, above your head...
Life in academy is also filled with adventure. Cross country is the mother of all events. Running 11 km in 30 to 40 mins was not even in the dreams of many trainees.
Endurance camp was of much higher magnitude. We had night navigation, mini josh and josh runs. Each of them ranging between 25 to 40 kilometers in length. I remember that we were lost during our night navigation. The expedition that began on 0230 hours ended at 1640 hours the same day.
It was basically meant to reveal how much can we push ourselves beyond our limits. I was good in jod thod, in which we had to strip and assemble rifles. I did it in the same way i tap my fingers on my keyboard.
We had boat pulling, sailing, firing, NBCD exercise, and a whole lot of stuffs. The sea sortie was an unforgettable experience. We sailed for four days, slept in the space between machinery, as Russian made frigates offer rooms to machines, not to man.
You should have been there with me while we were transferred from one ship to another in a Gemini craft; climbing up and down the waves, was really a breathtaking experience.
There were good and bad times in academy. This was also a period of spiritual retreat for me, as we will stay close to god during our hardships. I realized my father's words that i will regret for not going to masses on weekdays during my college days.
I used to write diaries, prepare"Tang", have buffer food, drink raw milk in packets, during silent hours(sleeping time), secretly have 'pickle, salad, sauce and paapad on mess table, which were senior privileges. There is always some fun in violating the rules. Unless you risk yourselves, you won't enjoy the fun.
Study hours used to be my time to write letters. Jana was the person who annoyed me(hihi!..wink) the most. I wrote too much of letters that i ran out of envelopes, and finally paper too. I made envelopes of my own, and the last letter from academy to jana was written on tracing paper.
Letter was lighter than envelope. He too wrote to me in semi log graph papers which reminded me of my college days. It was letters which kept me moving during those days.
It takes about two weeks time to receive the reply for a letter. But the excitement in receiving the letter is beyond expression in words. I run to my cabin, and opens it like a child who got a Christmas gift. To all those who wrote to me, atleast once- You live in my heart.
I had the same happiness when i got a cup of tea in the morning and evening. In the morning, while most of them are getting dressed up, i will be standing in the courtyard, awaiting the hot teapot. The civilian bearer would always be late that we got only 2 mins to finish the hot tea. In the evening, i run to my squadron; may be from parade ground, swimming pool, or where ever it is.
One hard fact (prefer to call rather than sad fact) is that i didn't have any attachment with the academy. I made a few friends. Rest of them were acquaints. There were good and bad times in the academy, and its quite humane that you will remember most of them who stayed together, sharing the same pain in life, one way or the other.
Being a weak swimmer, i had spent majority of my end term recess time in swimming pool.Donny (name changed) too was a weak swimmer. We both used to share our frustrations and despairs sitting on the bench beside the pool. We promised that we will pass the test on same day. Else if someone passed ahead, then the other would have broken down. We kept our word. From the pool, i got a brother.
His mom prayed for us during our tough time, so did my mom. When our families met for the first time, the day before our POP, we felt as if we had been knowing each other for a long time.
The biggest lesson i learned during my training was that, whether rolling on ground during PT, losing the palms' skin in parade ground, getting fuck ups after a heavy dinner, getting psyched by sitting like a hen "murga" position, or running together for 80 to 100 kms within 4 days, men and women who share the same pain stay together; forever..
There are more of academy stories, to be followed in up comming posts. Unless they are coupled with life, they are meaningless. As the book "Belt, boots and beret" says, whatever happens in the academy is for good. Let us wait and see...
