Memoirs and Memories

My journey through the roller coaster ride of life
leaving footprints in the sands of time

Saturday, October 30, 2004

NCC blues

Of all the worse things that happened to me in school, the one that topped the list was undoubtedly my 2 year stint in NCC. At the start of the academic year the NCC master came to our class (this happened when I was in 8th) and informed us that the selection trials for that year's batch would begin the next day. He also warned us that the entire selection process would be very rigorous and all the weak ones would be 'filtered', so that only the best of the best would enjoy the honour of being selected as a National Cadet Corps recruit.

The next day at 1:30 PM he sat in his office waiting for the batch of eager aspirants jostling for the afore mentioned 'honour'. After an hour long wait he discovered that the number of students who turned up for selections were..........well, let's say, the number of Iraqis who would turn up for felicitations to Bush. Not to be snubbed, he marched straight into the Principal's office, pointed out the dismal situation and somehow managed to convince him of the pressing need for atleast 50 new recruits.

And finally the official decree was passed. All students from class 8 would have to compulsorily join the NCC for a period of 2 years. This led to a flood of telephone calls from us anxious kids seeking our parents' help to bail us out of the impending disaster. And the parents went straight to their doctors requesting medical certificates for their (otherwise healthy)wards stating their inability to be part of the corps. Finally all 50 of us marched in unison to the NCC master's office armed with the medical certificates in hand and smug smiles on our faces.

The first guy handed over his certificate without a word. Mr.Babu, the NCC master, read it aloud. "Our family doctor states that our son will not be able to take part in NCC activities because he suffers from sunstroke." He then glanced up at the smiling face above him, "I see. It doesn't matter, anyway. We'll make you march indoors". With that he tore the piece of paper to shreds and signed up the now non-smiling recruit immediately. And the process was repeated for the next 49 of us. He'd read each certificate, crumple the paper (along with our hearts), toss it in the bin and draft us in straightaway.

You should have heard the list of excuses that our doctors came up with in the med certificates. They must have covered the entire medical dictionary that day. There was irritable bowel syndrome (I wonder what that had to do with NCC. It's not like we were going to engage in an eating contest), sensitive soles, tender achilles heel, fragile constitution and a lot more obscure disorders. In fact if an outsider were to observe the entire process he'd be forgiven for thinking that it was a vaccine trial. One guy even had brain tumour listed as the reason on his certificate. He must have had an overly imaginative doctor. Either that or his doctor knew something he didn't.

Finally at the end of it all, Mr.Babu's NCC roster was full and so was his wastepaper basket. After the selections (if we can call it that) were over a beaming Mr.Babu addressed us, "Cadets, I'd like to take this opportunity to extend a hearty welcome to each one of you to NCC. I'm sure you can look forward to a memorable 2 years as 'volunteers' of this esteemed outfit." We each let out a loud groan and a silent curse, "You forced us into this you bastard. Don't call us volunteers".

When we went to our dorms that night, we were a really sad bunch. But we made an effort to see the bright side of it. We'd get to attend a 10 day camp where Mr.Babu promised us we could have an absolutely smashing time (we later realised he was a two faced liar on this count) and we'd get the NCC certificate which, Mr.Babu pointed out repeatedly, would open the hallowed portals to any institute of our choice in the future (Yeah, right!).

We eagerly looked forward to our uniforms which were due the next week. And when they finally arrived we were gobsmacked. It consisted of a shirt which had more buttons than a priest's cassock, an extremely short shorts that looked like the swimming trunks worn by Silk Smita, boots that weighed as if they were made of titanium and to top it all a ridiculous cap that made us look like Robin Hood's band of merry men.

We let out a collective sigh. It was going to be a long 2 years!

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