Friday, September 23, 2011

The cry is heard!

Ah! Those were the days – very carefree years. Lucknow then was a quiet, sleepy town. Between getting whacked by the monitors and teachers of La Martiniere College (my alma mater – and yes, corporal punishment was more the norm than the exception…) life was a blur of flying kites, playing marbles and gulli-danda. What I remember most about Mart was the adaptability that it taught us – something that held me in good stead all my life. It was at Mart that I acquired the reading habit – thanks to Mrs. Dignum, my teacher and housemaster's wife. She was the one, who made me fall in love with story telling. I vividly remember sitting under the trees by the cricket / football field (yes, barring mind games, I was not much interested in sports…) and spinning yarns to other shammers like me….

Next came the National Defence Academy and then the Indian Military Academy. The sudden move from Mart to NDA was a shock to the system. All at once the carefree days were over. Life in NDA was fun and amazingly transformational, and certainly more gruelling…horse riding, hang gliding, sailing, all kinds of (some very insane) sports, firing and grenade throwing. NDA gave us exposure to a world we were not even aware off. Being a first generation soldier it was horizon widening for me.

Full report here Hindu

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