First packing experience. What a pain!

And I am back… 🙂

Not that I was missed, I know. But it still feels great to write “I am back”, for purely selfish reasons with which I won’t bore you.

So it’s been almost two months that I haven’t written anything. I was caught up in the cycle of dining outs – friendly dinners – packing – loading trucks – saying goodbyes – crying my eyes out – travelling – waiting for the bloody trucks – unloading – unpacking – setting up a new house – blah blah.

This entire cycle is what a seasoned Army wife usually gets used to after a couple of postings. But I was new to this whole process and it was freaky to say the least. I am glad it is over.

The day we finally saw the MES guy put locks on the house (quarter in sarkari and fauji lingo), we had moved in with Major Sa’ab’s coursemate and his wife in the same Cantt for two days. As my friend and I were enjoying the drizzle and drinking tea on the balcony, we saw a Dhai-Ton (colloquial for the two-and-half tons capacity Army trucks) pull up in the block.

Two fit jawans quickly started unloading stuff from the truck…aah…so another family was moving in. It was not my house, but still I felt a sense of possessiveness about it. How soon we all get attached to the leaky, dingy and ancient Army quarters was the first thing that dawned on me. Army wives have this incredible knack for accepting any house with open arms and making it their own for the next two weeks (or two months or two years…whatever).

This first packing-moving experience has taught us (Major Sa’ab and I) a lot but I still know that our second time is going to be equally chaotic. I just know it. Don’t ask me how 🙂 .