DECIPHERING THE DNA OF ‘MAKRA' CADET

"Dear Makra Cadet, (expression used for shammer by instructors in academy) your coursemates are delighted to welcome you to celebrate 30 years reunion of NDA course"; this billboard at the reception had an electrifying effect. For next 72 hours our pack of over three score officers and their families left a trail as it waded through the sandy beach of Mandrem, Goa. The mood of the moment was such that we delinked ourselves from work, family commitments, anxieties and stresses of daily lives.

With the fear of pandemic at its lowest ebb it was time to ride the high tides and let your hair down. The reunion of "Band of Brothers" (the name we are known by) was a wonderful travel back in time zone with a good number travelling from across the globe to relive fond memories of those difficult academy days. It took time to match names to faces in some cases where youthful looks had succumbed to balding or graying out. Thankfully the change was only in appearance and not their idiosyncratic traits.

Many a future Generals, Admirals and Marshals were captured in camera being unapologetically themselves. Some mavericks performed the ‘pole dance' and ‘Beedi Jalailey' shakes so well that Russian troupe girls at the venue felt professionally threatened and insecure. Some like me who have never run unless threatened by circumstances were seen jogging on the beach as soon as eastern horizons got lighter. The glint in everybody's eyes indicated a strong defiance of age, which in any case was just a number.

Our ladies attired in best of dresses added glamour to the reunion. They were a sport to their ‘juvenile' hubbies, each one in his element, narrating anecdotes and exploits of his cadet days with no fear of being judged. No one was conscious of their complacent pot bellies or white haired chests even as their better halves looked way younger. One does get over such trivial bugbears when on the wrong side of fifty. That they would all pull in their tummy before the camera is just a subconscious program of this age.

Health was the last thing on the minds of those battling issues of weight, blood pressures or body aches earned in combat. The dopamine surge would certainly have taken care of our vitals counterbalancing the hangover and tanked up livers. Many however had sour throats due to excessive vocal exercise; those three days were a midlife Upgradation in true sense.

At the end of this bonhomie overwhelmed with gratitude there was a thunderous applause for the organizers. Be it selection of venue, theme based events and menus or curating of goody bags with customized souvenirs, these volunteers from our own stock had got into the minutest of details to make the occasion a grand success with enthusiastic participation. Before biding Au Revoir, we were already planning our next ‘overhaul' so essential for rejuvenating humdrum lives.

‘I have seldom seen you in this form earlier', said my wife. "NDA is my true DNA", was my brief explanation as we took off from Dabolim.

Col HP Singh, VSM is
an alumnus of the Lawrence School Sanawar and NDA Khadakwasla. He is a prolific writer and based at Mohali, Punjab

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