<p>Add a bit of humour to the tough training, hard life, separation from the family and harsh living conditions in the army, life becomes interesting. </p>.<p>We had one Srinivasan with us in NCC in College, who was scared of firing a rifle after witnessing others experiencing recoil. At last, he ventured to come to the ranges. He fired but could not hit the target, then he got up abruptly as he had totally wet his pants, after which he threw the rifle and ran away when the NCO caught him. The rest of us were in splits.</p>.<p>Choice of clubs and allotment in the Academy is akin to postings-- you seek Delhi and you will land up in Trivandrum or Leh or better still, Siachen; and vice versa! As our English Instructor, Capt Ramanujam would say there were, "three ways of doing everything-- the right, wrong and the army way!"</p>.<p>For two terms, I opted for the camera club. No luck, I was allotted angling! I argued that as a vegetarian, I would not enjoy angling. After learning the rudiments and some practice, on our first outing, for many hours, we had no luck. When we were about to pack up, I got a mighty tug on my reel. With some help, I fished out a big Golden Mahseer. Everyone was happy as it was featured in our dinner. The news spread and I was ordered to be a Mess Committee member to visit restaurants, taste non-vegetarian items for inclusion in the Cadets' Mess. My plea went unheeded and I became a silent signing member. </p>.<p>Once, I got a chit at the lunch table to report at the Squash Court to the Battalion Commander. I did not even know squash was a game. I borrowed a racquet, and ran to the court, dreaming that the Commander was fond of me! My hopes were punctured, when he asked, "What the hell are you doing here, Surya?" I showed him the chit. He burst out laughing, "Not you. I wanted Cadet Chander Narain (who was a services player)." </p>.<p>In another instance, we had moved into a huge bungalow at Delhi Cantonment, and got a new telephone connection. Close to midnight, there was a long ring and I picked it up. The caller said, "<span class="italic"><em>Maal aa gaya, kahaan par tikaun (The item has come, where to put it)</em></span>?" I got worried, having seen many Hindi films. I disconnected without answering. It continued ringing, I took it off the hook. After some more nights more of suffering, I found out that the number had previously associated with Kochar Transport; hence those mysterious calls! </p>
<p>Add a bit of humour to the tough training, hard life, separation from the family and harsh living conditions in the army, life becomes interesting. </p>.<p>We had one Srinivasan with us in NCC in College, who was scared of firing a rifle after witnessing others experiencing recoil. At last, he ventured to come to the ranges. He fired but could not hit the target, then he got up abruptly as he had totally wet his pants, after which he threw the rifle and ran away when the NCO caught him. The rest of us were in splits.</p>.<p>Choice of clubs and allotment in the Academy is akin to postings-- you seek Delhi and you will land up in Trivandrum or Leh or better still, Siachen; and vice versa! As our English Instructor, Capt Ramanujam would say there were, "three ways of doing everything-- the right, wrong and the army way!"</p>.<p>For two terms, I opted for the camera club. No luck, I was allotted angling! I argued that as a vegetarian, I would not enjoy angling. After learning the rudiments and some practice, on our first outing, for many hours, we had no luck. When we were about to pack up, I got a mighty tug on my reel. With some help, I fished out a big Golden Mahseer. Everyone was happy as it was featured in our dinner. The news spread and I was ordered to be a Mess Committee member to visit restaurants, taste non-vegetarian items for inclusion in the Cadets' Mess. My plea went unheeded and I became a silent signing member. </p>.<p>Once, I got a chit at the lunch table to report at the Squash Court to the Battalion Commander. I did not even know squash was a game. I borrowed a racquet, and ran to the court, dreaming that the Commander was fond of me! My hopes were punctured, when he asked, "What the hell are you doing here, Surya?" I showed him the chit. He burst out laughing, "Not you. I wanted Cadet Chander Narain (who was a services player)." </p>.<p>In another instance, we had moved into a huge bungalow at Delhi Cantonment, and got a new telephone connection. Close to midnight, there was a long ring and I picked it up. The caller said, "<span class="italic"><em>Maal aa gaya, kahaan par tikaun (The item has come, where to put it)</em></span>?" I got worried, having seen many Hindi films. I disconnected without answering. It continued ringing, I took it off the hook. After some more nights more of suffering, I found out that the number had previously associated with Kochar Transport; hence those mysterious calls! </p>