The excited chatter in the bus came to a sudden halt. Their magnificent surroundings made the newcomers gasp with appreciation. Awestruck, Billi could barely speak.
‘Wow! This is amazing!’ Billi heard the wonder in her companion’s voice. Unwittingly, she echoed the expression.
The bus stopped just inside the main gate of the OTA. The cadets were asked to produce their joining letters by a couple of uniformed NCOs. In their hands, they held a list of names, which they matched with the joining letters handed over by the newcomers. One by one, the cadets were given their academy numbers, by which they would be identified during their entire stay at the academy. They were also informed of the name of the company allotted to them. The company would be their home for the duration of the course, and the affiliation would exist forever. Their loyalties would remain unwavering.
While there were quite a few companies for the men, the women, owing to their small number, were accommodated in Zojila or Phillora companies.
Formalities completed, the bus wound its way through acres of neatly manicured lawns, orderly rows of plants, tall trees and beautiful structures. It was an impressive set-up. The very thought that they were going to be a part of it accelerated everyone’s heartbeats. From now on, we will be known as lady cadets (LCs), the Haryanvi girl reminded herself. I am LC Bijli Bijarnia. The very words made her chest puff with pride.
Of the seven girls who had arrived that evening, four, including Billi, had been allotted the Zojila Company. The bus dropped them off at an elegant triple-storeyed structure that was to house them during their training. The entrance of the building led to a large foyer with a grand staircase in the centre, which led to the upper floors. A long corridor, flanked by rooms on either side, ran on the left and right side of the lobby.
One side of the structure housed the Zojila Company girls, while the other was reserved for the girls from Phillora Company.
It was 6 p.m. when the exhausted girls sauntered into the main foyer.
‘All I want is to take a shower and hit the bed,’ said one of them.
‘So do I,’ seconded another.
The thought of a shower and bed was a tempting one, indeed. Just then, they ran into two smart looking LCs with their hallmark zero haircuts, dressed in the games uniform. They belonged to the senior batch.
‘Those who have been allotted to the Zojila Company, stay here. Others can leave,’ shouted one of them.
‘Welcome to the Zalims!’ greeted the other.
Zalims! A trifle confused if she had heard right, Billi wondered about the connotation of the word. But it was nice to be welcomed so warmly, so she grinned and replied, ‘Thank you!’
‘What is your name?’
‘Myself LC Bijli Bijarnia from Alakhpura,’ she said and extended her hand. Then, realizing it was impolite not to ask the other person’s name, she added, ‘What is your name?’
‘So, you want to know my name?’ the LC barked in an aggressive manner. ‘I will explain who I am, but first fetch your bags from outside.’
What’s her problem, Billi wondered. All I did was ask her her name. She shrugged her shoulders and began hauling her big black trunk, which had been dumped in front of the building by the vehicle which had ferried the cadets’ luggage from the railway staton to the academy. It was left for the LCs to lug them to their rooms. Don’t they have someone to help with the heavy stuff? She dragged the trunk by its handle. It was very challenging carrying it up the three steps that led to the lobby. All of a sudden, the box seemed to have put on weight.
Watching the others huffing and puffing even more with their metal trunks, she was thankful to Daddu for his wise advice. ‘Carry the essentials only,’ he had insisted. ‘You won’t need frills and laces, since you are not going for a fashion show,’ he had said. ‘Stick to the list of items provided in the joining instructions. There is no need for extra paraphernalia.’
‘Quick! Hurry up, girls. You don’t have the entire evening to carry the boxes inside,’ shouted the senior, who seemed to have got up on the wrong side of her bed that morning.
‘Who is she?’ whispered Kiran.
‘She is a senior,’ hissed another girl in reply.
‘She could be an officer,’ remarked Billi doubtfully. ‘I don’t think an LC would order us around, even if she were a senior.’
‘Silence!’ This time it was the other LC. ‘Zip your lips, or I will do it for you.’
Blistering under the glare of the two tormentors, the newcomers struggled with their loads. ‘Let us help each other,’ suggested Billi, grabbing the handle on Kiran’s heavy box. The girl was perspiring with the effort of dragging it up the steps. ‘Two can do the task better.’
After dumping the boxes in one corner, the four Zojila girls faced their seniors in the central lobby at the main entrance of the building.
‘Stand straight,’ the LC, who they learnt was the CSM (Cadet Sergeant Major), barked at her. ‘Why are you swinging your arms like a pendulum? Do you have no control over them?’
‘Introduce yourselves one by one. Give us your name, qualification and hobbies.’
The first one to introduce herself was a tall girl with short hair. Standing erect, arms held tight by her sides and her eyes staring at a point above the CSM’s head, she spoke in a clear and crisp voice. ‘My name is Koel Kukreja, and I am from Chandigarh. I did my schooling from the Army School, Panchkula, and my engineering from the Army Institute of Technology (AIT), Pune. I love to read, and I play tennis and squash.’
Impressed by Koel’s military stance, the others tried to copy her.
‘So you are an army brat?’ The CSM’s voice had a deceptive smoothness to it. Her eyes beady, she barked, ‘Is your father still serving or has he retired?’
‘Yes ma’am, he’s still serving.’ Koel continued to stare at the eighth step on the staircase, her face devoid of expression.
‘What’s his rank?’
‘He’s a Major General.’
‘Well, well, Miss Smarty Pants, don’t you try to pull your father’s rank in the academy. We, at Zojila, don’t like army brats,’ the senior snorted derisively.
‘You begin with a disadvantage,’ quipped the other senior, who was the SUO (Senior Under Officer). ‘While we make slight allowances for the others, no such tolerance is shown to an army brat.’
Noticing the malicious look in her eyes, Billi was grateful not to have a Major General for a father. Koel, however, continued to maintain an impassive expression on her face.
The second girl, Seema, belonged to a business family in Varanasi. Nervous, she stammered and faltered through her introduction.
‘Is this how you always speak, or is this a one-off performance? Everyone in the academy is expected to speak clearly and loudly. Now, introduce yourself once more.’
The poor girl was made to go through the introductions half a dozen times, before they let go of her, with a warning. Glancing sideways at her, Billi noticed the moisture in Seema’s eyes.
‘The next time you go home, remember to drown your timidity in the Ganges. It will not serve you well at the academy,’ smirked Miss Khadoos, as Billi had named the senior who was tormenting them.
Alia, the third girl, did a perfect job.
Finally, it was Billi’s turn to introduce herself. Having heard the other girls and the reactions their introductions had prompted, she decided to play it safe. She would not mention Daddu or his role in her decision to join the army.
Drawing herself to her full height and, like Koel, staring at the eighth step of the staircase, she spoke in a loud voice. ‘Myself Bijli Bijarnia, from Alakhpura, Haryana. I am a home science graduate. No relatives in the army.’
The two LCs exchanged amused glances.
‘You are already a captain?’ asked the CSM, pointing to the word printed on Billi’s T-shirt.
‘This is not an army rank,’ the Haryanvi girl explained, the confidence she had gathered in the last five minutes crumbling away instantly. ‘I am ex-captain of the Alakhpura Football Club.’
‘Oh! So you play football?’
‘Yes.’
‘Take care you don’t get kicked around.’
‘Now, get started and give us 20,’ shouted the CSM.
There was confusion as the girls stared at each other, trying to decipher the meaning of her words.
Did she want 20 rupees? How cheap. Billi immediately reached for the wallet in her pocket, while Kiran and Seema looked around for a clue.
Only Koel seemed to know what the LC wanted.
Without waiting for any explanation, she went down on her arms and began doing push-ups.
‘The order applies to all of you, as well.’ The CSM seemed determined to make them sweat. ‘Come on, give us 30. It’s 10 extra for the delay.’
Everyone acted immediately and began doing push-ups.
‘Not good enough. You will continue doing push-ups till you have learnt to do them the right way,’ sniggered the SUO.
Limbs protesting and sweat rolling off their backs, the girls continued. They must have done 50 each till, at last, satisfied with their performance, the two LCs allotted room numbers to the girls and marched away. The four girls decided to help each other carry the trunks to the rooms.
‘Just give me a few minutes,’ requested Billi, glad that the punishment session had ended. She hastened towards her room on the first floor. ‘I will come back to take the trunk up the steps.’
Koel and Seema had been lucky to be allotted rooms on the ground floor. ‘We will help you,’ they promised.
Leaving them struggling with their boxes, Billi ran up the steps. Two things made her speed up her pace. One was her need to visit the washroom, and the second was the rumbling in her belly. As she scanned the numbers on the door frames, the Haryanvi girl realized that her room was at the end of the corridor.
She ran into her room and rushed towards the washroom. To her surprise, the door was bolted from inside.
‘Oh, no,’ she groaned. Wondering if she should rap on the door or rush into the next room, she decided on the former. No point in taking chances. What if the next room is occupied by someone like the CSM?
‘Who’s inside?’ she asked cautiously, knocking repeatedly on the door. Displeasing a senior was not a good idea, she had realized.
‘One minute,’ came the muffled voice from inside the washroom, followed by the sound of the flush.
‘This is an emergency,’ Billi found herself begging. ‘Can you hurry, please?’
Every second seemed to take longer than an hour, as she paced frantically from one end of the room to the other. It didn’t work. Next, she crossed her legs and tried to distract herself by cursing the person inside the washroom. Finally, the door opened and a tall, lithe girl stood smiling hesitantly at her.
Billi, however, had no time to waste. Pushing the girl aside, she rushed in and latched the door. Five minutes later, she emerged from the washroom, relief writ clearly on her face. Her face wreathed in smiles, she peeped into the adjoining room and found the girl lying on a bed. The two rooms had a common washroom and were connected through a passage.
‘What a relief! I am sorry for the rude behaviour,’ she began. ‘I desperately needed to use the washroom. Myself Bijli Bijarnia from Alakhpura.’
‘LC Shiny Joseph from Kottayam,’ responded the other. ‘I arrived this morning.’
Wanting to ensure that she had heard right, the Haryanvi girl asked, ‘Sorry, I didn’t get that. What is the name of your village?’
‘Kott-ay-am,’ Shiny repeated, stressing on each syllable. ‘Kottayam is not a village. It’s a beautiful place with many lakes, where lots of movies have been shot.’ The girl spoke proudly.
‘Alakhpura is also a nice place. Our football team has won two Subroto Cup titles. It is run with the support of the entire village and many of the girls trained by the club have participated in the national football championship,’ Billi preened.
‘That sounds very impressive,’ Shiny replied.
‘Have you met the two LCs who are prowling around the building in games dresses? They made us do 50 push-ups,’ Billi complained.
‘You must have encountered the Senior Under Officer and Cadet Sergeant Major,’ Shiny laughed. ‘They are very important people. Don’t ever cross their paths, for they can make your life miserable. Thank your stars, only two of the seniors have arrived. We didn’t escape them, either.’ She paused and made a face. ‘We were made to execute 50 front rolls for the two seniors. It’s been a sweaty welcome for all of us. You have to get used to them.’
At that moment, Billi made up her mind to be a CSM, no matter what it took.
‘Will you help me bring my box to the room?’ she asked Shiny.
After the box had been hauled up the steps, the footballer decided to shower and catch up on lost sleep. She had barely opened her bag and unpacked her towel and fresh clothes, when she heard the announcement.
‘All first-termers come down to the centre lobby immediately.’
‘Let’s go,’ Shiny moved towards the door.
‘You go ahead,’ said Billi, stepping into the washroom. ‘I will have a quick shower and join you in five minutes.’
‘Don’t be a goof, we have to run down immediately,’ Shiny said, pulling the girl by the hand. ‘The shower can wait. We will be in trouble if we are late.’
‘Don’t you know the meaning of the word “immediately”?’ an authoritative voice resounded down the corridor.
Half a dozen girls spilled out of their rooms, a couple of them in a semi-dressed state. There was a scramble and all the newcomers ran down the stairs for the fall-in, which they learnt was an order to assemble immediately, and take position in a fixed formation of two rows.
As the girls assembled in the central lobby, Billi spotted Seema, the mousy girl from Varanasi. She was running down the corridor, wearing a long wrap that flapped around her body.