Nearing 21, at the brink of receiving the Presidents Commission, all of us in my flight cadets course at the Air Force Academy at Dindigul, Secunderabad, were despatched to Bangalore or Delhi, to undergo a stiff medical examination at the Air Forces Aviation Medicine facilities in the two cities. In the train ride from Secunderabad to Delhi, I was accompanied by, among others, a Sardarji army officer who was also travelling to Delhi and who turned out to be a couple of courses senior to me at the NDA. We talked of this and that and what turned out to be a common favourite, riding. And while on the subject of riding, who could forget a mention of Sabrina, the docile filly at the NDA equitation school, who was everyones favourite for not shaking her riders off. Talk soon veered towards girls and where to find them. Sardarji, an articulate man, convinced me it was the simplest thing in the world and all one needed was confidence and a slight gift of the gab, which he assured me, was not quite that difficult a quality to cultivate, given my easy facility with the language. He went on to regale me with stories about girls he knew. In utter admiration of this man, who apparently had such easy access to godesses, I immediately adopted Sardarji as mentor and guide. He in turn, preened like a guru at having acquired a brand new acolyte. Of course, both of us were mindful of the responsibilities of a guru towards shishya and Sardarji promised to introduce me to girls galore while I was in Delhi. One evening, after having undergone a battery of tests that would last another three days, I rang Sardarji and we decided to meet at Defence Colony Market. When I reached the appointed cafe, Sardarji was just walking in. He told me wed be meeting a friend of his who would be accompanied by one of her friends. Furiously revising my gift of the gab mentally and willing my sweaty palms to stop perspiring, while trying to summon all the confidence at my command, we waited for the arrival of the two godesses who had deigned to meet us. A few minutes later, in walked two visions of beauty, though if my memory serves me well now, two gawky teenagers in bell-bottoms and long hair. The two fauji gentleman stood while the girls slid into their seats before us. Stiff introductions revealed the other girls name as Sabrina. Whereupon Sardarji, with a whoop of delight, exclaimed that Sabrina was his favourite horse at the NDA! Sabrina gave me a dirty look (whence came the exclamation why me?), suddenly remembered an errand she had to do for her Mom and strode away. Sardarjis girlfriend shook her head, lamenting favourite horse! favourite horse? and Sardarji lost a shishya forever...
Posted on: Sun, 21 Dec 2014 06:42:11 +0000
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