A Curious Army Wife

I joined this crazy tribe when I married into the Indian Army

Archive for the tag “Indian Army”

First packing experience. What a pain!

Though we hate the way our houses smell in the monsoon, there is still no builder in India who can match this amazing view from an Army quarter's balcony.

Though we hate the way our houses smell in the monsoon, there is still no builder in India who can match this amazing view from an Army quarter’s balcony.

And I am back… ūüôā

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 ūüôā .

Kamar kass ke!

Innovation is the mother of.....

This should be a part of life hacks lessons. ‘

So there we were, dancing at the IMA Ball in Dehradun, where future officers training at the Indian Military Academy have a gala time before military service beckons, and this strange thing caught my eye.

I wish I had taken a better picture. But there is only so much I can do with a normal camera phone that refuses to click decent pics in low light.

All the Gentlemen Cadets (better known as GC) were dressed in their muftis, a dress code set for such fun events in the Indian Army. Their ball partners were dressed in some of the most stylish western outfits fashioned out of a one metre cloth (of course I am exaggerating, it’s my blog after all :P).

The ball party had just started off and there was this group of young girls and GCs dancing in front of us. Suddenly I realised that the kamar-band of this GC’s uniform looked a little odd. I normally do not go closer to take a look of what is hanging off a person’s belt, but in this case I had to, cause (a) it was dark and (b) I had left my glasses at home.

There was this sparkly-sequency-golden clutch purse securely held by the GCs kamar-band. His partner would obviously have thought it would be cool to get this clutch but must have realised what a pain it is to handle it while dancing. So I am guessing our GC gulped down a glass of chivalry and offered to get rid of this object in this unique fashion,

Unique my foot. My awe for his innovative idea evaporated the moment I spotted around 10-12 more GCs with a clutch purse snuck in their kamar-bands. Aah, so even they wanted the purse out of their way, it seems. ūüôā

Protecting everyone!

wpid-img_20140831_012415.jpg

This is a picture taken by Capt Sa’ab, who was recently out for a camp with a bunch of other faujis. The day they landed at the camp site they realised they had some unusual guests. Three kittens living in the barracks had accidently gotten themselves packed with the men’s stuff! Well, needless to say, the men were given orders to feed them and keep them safe.

Now anyone who has had even a day’s experience with cats will tell you that CATS DON’T TAKE ORDERS. Period. You tell them to eat this, stay there, sit here, walk there, sleep now, wake up later… they will simply ignore you and do whatever they want to. So the men found it very difficult to keep them in the campsite, just in case the officers came to check!

Needless to say, the men managed to get all of them back at the end of their week-long camp. Mama Kitty, you owe the men in olive greens big time!

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