Return of Cadet JAM – Hilarious NDA Adventures Part 2

Considering the rave reviews I received for my previous post on the inimitable Cadet JAM, I am presuming that most of you readers are well familiar with the gentleman. Other than reminding you that amongst his countless sterling qualities, the ones that stood out were his resourcefulness, presence of mind and an unerring ability to find trouble, I will skip the introductions and jump straight into Part 2 of his NDA adventures.

In our days at the National Defence Academy (NDA) in the 1980s, First termers were segregated from the main Academy. Cadets therefore experienced the magnificence as well as the terrors of the Academy only in their second term.

The Academy then comprised 12 squadrons. Though all squadrons revelled in, and were equally proficient in making life miserable for the cadets, some squadrons were Orwellian and obviously more equal. One or two squadrons on the other hand, were (erroneously) deemed the more ‘jazz’ squadrons.

One came to know which squadron one has been assigned only on the first day of the second term when the lists were pasted outside the central dining hall. JAM along with us all, rushed to the notice board, hoping that he would find himself assigned to one of the ‘jazz’ squadrons. Alas, he (with me and the famed Cadet CM  – who has figured prominently in my writings here and here) and 22 others, had been assigned the Kilo sqn. Thus started JAM’s NDA adventures.

Draining the bitter cup, JAM lugged his luggage to the Sqn. He had of course seen enough movies to know that officers in the Army often had orderlies or bearers to   help with menial jobs like lifting one’s luggage. Accordingly, he accosted the first cadet he saw, who coincidentally happened to be the Cadet Sergeant Major (CSM) and asked him, a bit airily –

“Excuse me, can you send someone to lift my luggage please?”

Unfortunately for JAM, the movies had not told him to be wary of CSMs (who you will recall from my previous writings, here and here, are scarier versions of Genghis) for what followed was a few hours of kicks and screams, front rolls and back rolls, bend stretches and sprints. It would suffice to say, JAM was left somewhat disillusioned.

But if nothing, JAM was resilient. Shaking off his disillusionment, he picked up his luggage and entered the Sqn – only to find bedlam in full bloom. The third termers were being ‘shown life’ (a delightful euphemism for being forced into a mix of calisthenics and aerobics) by the Seniors and therefore JAM thought it prudent to slink off in another direction.

The bedlam died down in due course and suddenly there came to JAM’s ears a mellifluous tune. He followed the sound to find, fortuitously, that his friend from school days, third termer Cadet AS, was the warbler. And though JAM understood not a word of the song, he thought that if even a lowly third termer could sing so with gay abandon, Kilo Sqn couldn’t be all bad.  This, coupled with the joy of sighting a familiar face, helped in some degree of sunny optimism creeping into his heart.

JAM proceeded to the bathroom and in his general euphoria, he couldn’t help but rip out ‘arey deewano, mujhe pehchano’, a hit tune from those days, as he stood at the urinal. He noticed another gentleman at the adjoining urinal looking at him quizzically. JAM, remembering manners learnt at his mother’s knee, switched off the Amitabh song and introduced himself –

“Hi. I’m Cadet JAM. And you are?”

JAM noticed that the other gentleman was equally amiable. He responded with, ‘I’m BSR. Pleased to meet you’. He even added ‘See you around’, as he left the bathroom. (Yes, in case you are wondering, this was the same dreaded Cadet BSR I have written about earlier, here.)

Little did JAM know that the ‘see you around’ would be almost immediate, and in circumstances that were as divergent from the cordial as a husband’s enthusiasm for shopping is from the wife’s. For scarcely had JAM left the bathroom when he was graced with the sight of Cadet BSR, holding as if on leash, four angry, snarling, slobbering Rottweilers in the shape of third termers.

Addressing the Rottweilers, Cadet BSR merely stated (smilingly of course), “Cadet JAM here likes to sing when he is standing at the urinal next to me. Please (notice the politeness) ‘take care’ of him”.  The Rottweilers, freed of their leash, snarled and slobbered for some considerable period of time, much to JAM’s consternation. Remember the condition of those Roman legionnaires clobbered by Obelix? Well once he had been ‘taken care’ of, JAM resembled them. Only more so.

Oops! I’ve forgotten where I was. Oh yes, the singing, an integral part of NDA adventures. Those days, the Squadrons did not have any paging/PA system. Should therefore, there be a need to disseminate important information of any kind, one of the second termers would be made to stand at a central location and announce the information by hollering his lungs out. Fortunately, by a strange kink of acoustics, the hollering could be heard distinctly across the whole Squadron.

But this was the Kilo Sqn remember? We yearned for the different. We liked to strike out from the straight and narrow.  Resultantly, unlike all other Sqns, we just didn’t holler the announcements. We warbled. In a sing song tune. Some like Cadet AS, mellifluously (and hence JAM’s error of judgement), and some gratingly. The degree of difficulty in warbling something like ‘Pay attention Kilo Sqn, all second to fourth termers muster in the ground floor central lobby in swimming costumes, drill boots and ties immediately’ is of course considerable. Consequently, many second termers never got the hang of it, which in turn caused them to have periodic and painful meetings with miffed seniors.

Unfortunately for JAM, his cabin was located close to the ‘central location’ alluded to above. So, seniors latching onto him to make announcements was a natural corollary. Even more unfortunately, JAM was blessed with a voice that even his mother agreed was a cross between a nail screeching across a chalkboard and a hippopotamus gargling. Most announcements by JAM thus resulted in the said unpleasant meetings with seniors.

But JAM if you recall was resourceful. Hence, he had found a way of avoiding these post announcement rendezvous’ by the simple expedient of quickly finishing the announcement, and then, before some wrathful third termers could come bounding looking for him, he would, on his own volition, start front rolling on the floor.   Seeing him so, the third termers would feel that JAM is already ‘being shown life’ by some other seniors and back off. JAM thus would roll right into the sanctuary of his cabin.

And then there were some strange episodes of JAM and his cycle which together remained at the forefront of his NDA adventures. But I will get back to that some other day. I’ll wind up this episode by stating that JAM was the only cadet at NDA who ragged himself to escape ragging!

And finally dear Reader, if reading this made you smile, please forward it to two friends who take life too seriously.