G.Gopi

roll no,1863, Pallava-Gupta

1981-88 batch

To all Sainik School boys past and present……

Those seven years which transformed our lives to an inclusive way of life.

Beyond Caste, Creed, Color, Religion, Region, Economic strata, Simply as life throbbing-as Humans,

Alma mater(s) has given this sacred nation such glorious beings in every walk of life.

This book attempts to showcase the fun side of those seven years and how time freezes for sainik school old boys with twinkle in the eye and glow on the face at the very mention of sainik school transporting them and oscillating between 11-17 years of age.

2

1056 Moons and Counting: 

An introduction

It happened.

            As it did to countless generations of the past and it would certainly manifest to generations in future, that dreadful age of 10-11-12 years is the cusp of transition. When, since time immemorial have been spoken to by countless parents to their wards.

“You are going to a residential school, if you do not behave”

            Whoever introduced the institution called school/patashala/gurukul got to be hanged upside down, and the one who introduced residential schools by the nuts.

            04th August 1981,when I joined school as we got down at vizianagaram railway station and took a public transport bus to the sleepy village named korukonda, which was 13km tugged away nondescript except it had majestic palace and surrounded by 206 acres of lush green campus donated by his highness Shri PVG.Raju for establishing Sainik school in andhra pradesh state.

            The book would be inter spread with pictures of the campus- one of its kind to help readers to visualize the events of the children during their formative years which would shape them the very best men in their chosen fields.

            On the fateful august day when I entered the massive gates of royalty little did I realize that I and along with kaurav sena of 100+ 10-11 years old -that’s the batch strength that year, would be transformed, they would never be the same again.

            Some of the firsts that were happening to me and all others of my class thick and fast before we could realize what happened.

We all got a roll number which would stay with us till we step into the grave and would remain after we are buried as epitaph long after we are gone and turned into top soil.

            Mine was 1863, a number that I would blurt out in all three states-Wakefulness, Dream and Sleep. Some poor fellows of each class would  lose their identity-their names and would be called by their roll numbers for the rest of their living years. We had two such folks who sacrificed their names to roll numbers. In fact these two are lucky ones to get away with numbers, there are less fortunate ones who will be known and called by wives and also wives of classmates by nicknames and if they happen to have millennial kids even by the kids, that I call loss of identity in true sense. 

            Our fancy civil clothes are the second casualty replaced by 5 different sets of uniforms to be worn all in a day, do not bother to read that sentence again if you read it right. For the curious readers who cant hold back what the heck- a child changes five pairs of dresses all in a day, here it is

1.PT dress whites- half sleeves and shorts to physical training grounds

2.Khakis- half sleeves and shorts to instructional block popularly known as school

3.House colored- for games in the evening

4.Dinner dress again dress whites- full sleeves and trousers

5.Night dress- loose fitting stripped ones are light blue 

and there is the sixth which requires a chapter assigned to it, I cannot fit it in a paragraph therefore hang in there till we get there.

            Just when I thought it’s too much for kids of 10-11 years to digest in less than a couple of hours comes the shocker, before he is assigned the stay area called as house, while the parents are busy filling in the admission formalities, which is essentially sentenced without hearing and appeal for seven years, parents cannot withdraw the child the school can however throw the child out of school on disciplinary grounds and poor academic performance, which is a sham as reader will realize mighty soon, sharp ones in the first chapter itself and dull ones by middle of chapter one.

            While parents were busy filling admission formalities and collecting the kits-Dresses, trunk, books, shoes-drill, leather ones for instructional block(school), canvas for PT and games etal, child was whisked away for a hair cut, that’s me, if there is competition for fastest haircut our school barbers will beat hands down and get into Guinness book of world record and stay there unbeatable, till the   Guinness records lasts.

            It was like Charlie Chaplin going in and coming out in double quick time, in one sweep of the machine took all my hair one and half inch above my ears, they have a name for it-Crew cut. 

            When I returned to quarter master office my own dad enquired with me, son, can u guide me to barber shop I need to pick my son and I learning by the minute saw no merit in explaining so just opened my vocal chords instead-Dad its me!!! and the shock and the sadistic twitch around his mouth is mint fresh as if it happened yesterday. 

            The Gut said it, that nasty stomach churning feeling when your intuition tells you, bolt away before it’s too late.

            I was assigned Pallava house, there are four junior houses which house children from 6th class to 8th class and three appointments-One house captain and two prefects from class IX to manage the affairs of the 60 odd children along with house master and house tutors from the teaching community.

Four Junior Houses:

Corresponding Senior Houses:

School & Alumni association:

I headed to pallava house with 20 pairs of dresses, (didn’t I mention cadet changes his clothes five times in a day) a Black metallic trunk with freshly white painted roll no.1863 at bottom right corner, books, shoes (black leather and canvas) and socks to complete the inventory with my father in tow.

            I got into khakis and was taken to instructional block with a promise that my father would be around for couple of days to take me back home if I do not like the place, with a return train ticket as proof, alas it was the first deceit in life an eleven year would learn the hard way.

After attending a couple of periods, I stepped out for a milk break to find my father gone and left me to fend for myself. My classmates gave that all knowing, it happened to all of us. I think I am slotted for slaughter.

            Thus the seed of transformation was sowed and the journey begun………………………….

Part One

A Typical day in the school

Why am I boring you with an activity schedule? hang in there as you leaf through the pages, you would realize how loaded this barren activity sheet is?

NO, NO, NO each activity is embedded with multiple variants and laced with enormous risks at every step for all cadets.

Before I dive headlong into the hilarious consequences that produce day in and day out from each activity. Let’s get up and close with some monumental locales in the campus which have the potential of reams of volumes of this attempted book. Each batch of cadets who passed out from the annals of that great institution would relate to these locales with fond memoirs from the first batch of 1962 till date and into the future. 

 and then there were mango groves in the entire school campus of 206 acres and palm trees as a fence to the school campus.

Discipline: The Eternal Enigma

As I was drinking in the various locales of the campus, it felt like eon and it’s just little more than half a day. My dear father ditched me during milk break time and left me to fend for myself. As the dark of the night enveloped me in its embrace as I slept crying in a double cot bed exhausted and homesick.

Bugle call from Edwin Moses jolted me, and I thought this is a bad dream, common man, this is not happening to me, I just shut my eyelids it can’t be morning and gawd i was right it was still dark.

My house captain voice (BTW he is a high ranking army officer now) boomed “get up and fall in PT in 15 minutes”, I was confused whom to curse more, My dear father, edwin moses (or) my house captain, better sense prevailed and cursed myself, am a sad bastard, all this eaten away valuable minutes.

 Next came another booming voice, this seemed familiar, oh my my it is the same guy who sleeps on the top bed on the double cot assigned to me. Instructions are becoming harsher by the minute, he said, you jokers have 5 more minutes to fall outside.

I never thought time travels so fast down here, as the train of thoughts running and I rummaging through my cupboard for my white socks, I looked around to find the dormitory empty except for a dozen cadets still around, then came the last instruction that sounded like death knell.

This time again it was my house captain who was shouting at the top of his  voice,He shouted: “Before i count three you slimy buggers should be out with rest of the cadets” and he started counting 1, 2, T,H,R,E last and final letter E, all those bastards still in dormitory report to me after lunch and he was gone.

My vocabulary is getting richer by the minute- it turned from Joker-Slimy bugger to bastard all in 15 Minutes time, day has just begun.

While the rest of my pallava house were jogging away at a distance to PT grounds I along with half a dozen stragglers were sprinting to catch up. I did not know what reporting to the captain after lunch meant, but they knew, so they were muttering away curses generally directed at no one (or) every one.

Once we reached the PT grounds our captain gave a dirty look at us and allowed us to join the roll call.

There was general murmuring across all houses with half sleeping beauties, then came another roaring voice- Savdaan(means Attention) from school captain, there was pin drop silence, respective house captains gave roll call of their respective houses essentially the head count of cadets present minus sick boys.

School captain completed the roll call and handed over the houses split into classes- VI,VII,VIII……XII and barked line thod*. To form class wise groups for havaldar saheb(s) and subedar saheb(s) deputed from the Indian army to take over the respective PT sessions.

While the rest of the physical training session of about 40 minutes was nice and easy for us tiny tots of 10-12 year olds, with mild stretching of limbs and exercises, we could clearly hear the obscenities thrown liberally at senior classes at a short distance, sending shivers down our spines.

After 40 minutes of physical training we reassembled house wise and the school captain asked us to run/jog/walk back to our respective houses with this command.

Most of the children were sprinting back to houses, I did not understand why? After all, we just did our physical training right?

I preferred to walk back incidentally with the same set of boys who were in dormitory languishing after the count of three, their faces were pale devoid of blood, dragging their feet still muttering curses at everyone including the creator, I would get the first hand experience of their state after lunch, currently I was blissfully oblivious and relieved one activity is ticked.

As we entered the house a big tea kettle the kind of size I never thought existed in utensils and a plastic bucket full of boiled guggillu(peas)tempered with curry leaves and mustard seeds welcomed us. After PT we were really famished, we saw the house warden was miserly with a spilling fist of guggillu and three fourth tumbler of tea, but we soon realized the quantity is directly proportional to seniority. We are quickly learning the rules of the kingdom.

In no time the guggillu (tempered peas with curry leaves and mustard seeds) vanished and it actually made us more hungry. It’s time to bathe, morning commands and obscenities were fresh and quickly realized there were eight washrooms and equal number of to relieve ourselves and 60 kids in the house.

Please do the math on how much time each cadet(child) would get to relieve himself and shower. I am requesting readers to do the math because I am Ramanujam of the class. That detail is for a little later, let’s focus on the bathing ritual in the school.

If you thought time is premium for morning rituals after physical training in washrooms, think again there are a few other complexities here again, the math is not as simple as time divided by number of children in each house.

the senior most in the house- Appointments (House captain and prefects) followed by class VIII in junior houses and class XII followed by class XI would get maximum time in wash rooms as privileges and they would be last to visit the washrooms for bathing and first to use the shitpots.

Juniors have to juggle between shower and lavatories depending on availability,if you thought washer is optional, you got it all wrong it is MANDATORY in capitals.

Then one of my classmates asked “which bath are you opting for”?. Before I could wrap the query around my neurons and make sense, he blurted out the following options.

Dry bath

Crow bath

Regular bath

okay okay let me explain what it is

Dry bath: you either wet just your head(or) just enough water and sprinkle the rest of the body with water, wet your towel in random patches to make it seem you had a shower.

Crow bath: like how crow gets wet in the rainy season like that, you go under the shower but don’t apply soap. Back then in 1981 India was a closed economy and so there was no concept of liquid soap and fragrant one of any kind. It’s Just Soap.

Regular bath: ahhhhh you got it, like the regular bath(or) shower we all know.

while the first two options came with enormous risks, we learnt an important management lesson- Time,Effort and Money and use cases of each of them and also escape punishments, its trade off- you get caught and get skinned versus learning the tricks to manage time-bathroom time, effort-self explanatory and money?? Yes, money!!! the soap will have a longer shelf life which translates to buying goodies(chocolates,biscuits,bananas & cakes) from a tuck* shop.

TO BE CONTINUED…………………………………………………………..