The annual leave over I left my bride of a few days or so to stay at either my brother’s place or in her parent’s house. I did not give her any indication of my preference leaving it to her to be decided one way or the other.
Pathankot was a semi- field station with no family accommodation. With permission one could bring the family and stay in some thing known by the generic name of ‘Basha' a structure with mud walls and a thatched roof constructed under own arrangement or if lucky move in by purchasing from some lucky officer leaving on posting.
I was also in queue looking for some such accommodation falling vacant coinciding with Rosy finishing her final Examinations. Thanks to the initiative taken by Rosy, Pathankot soon had a different meaning for me. Even though she was in final year with the exams less than two months away she decided to throw the towel and give up her studies in midstream and join me. Possibly reverting back once again to be a nobody in her parent’s house a clear setback was not to her liking and she exercised her prerogative, her right to independence. I was more than thrilled to receive her telegram sent without the knowledge of her parents ‘Come at the earliest and take me away’ or words to the effect about her resolve to join me at the earliest.
The hectic activity following the receipt of the Telegram for a place to locate a house bore fruits. As luck would have it and by sheer chance I was fortunate to locate a two- room house, for the princely sum of Rupees 30 per month as rent, situated at the corner of Sujanpur Sericulture Farm, near the village of the same name and not far from the unit lines.
It was secluded, insecure, lonely and totally unsafe from every angle, lonely and insecure in day and more so at night, yet it suited us to a ‘T’ nothing less than a heaven in our eyes. It was our first house and for her to run the way she wanted and me to pamper her. It was he missing purpose that back in life once again.
The Farm for rearing the silk- worms was full of mulberry trees the mulberry leaves being the staple diet of the silk worms. The Upper Bari Doab Canal from the Madhopur headworks on river Sutlej formed one side of the perimeter the other was made by the road from Pathankot city to Sujanpur village.
A picturesque site, especially on those balmy warm magical full moon nights; it was a heaven on earth for us. I can still recall those unforgettable ‘Bashaki’ nights with the drum beats and Bhangra. As the 13th of April approached the drums become louder and louder the beats increased in tempo and the dancing became a bit more frenzy with the merry making going on till late in the night. It was all for the two of us to enjoy; if and when we had time to look out from the window of our own small world. Rest of the time it was exploring each other and discovering many more reasons, every day, as to why we had fallen in ‘Love at First Sight’.
Our landlord a retired JCO had tube well on his plot of agriculture land adjoining the house. His young unmarried and pretty daughter with large expressive eyes would accompany him to the site whenever the well was in operation. At times, Jeet and I would also walk up to the well to enjoy the gurgling water from the tube well flowing through the channel to the fields being irrigated; the scene being evocative with both of being from a village background. I can still picture the girl with her unusually large eyes with a wistful expression and penetrating but innocent looks ogling at us; I always wondered if she was looking at me or at us seeing so happy and involved with each other, perhaps wishing for a similar future for herself also.
Soon after moving to the house at Pathankot I suggested to Rosy that since there were only two of us there and no one to arbitrate if we had an argument, as a rule one or other should only listen when the other argued to which she readily agreed; that was the last of it, after that I never got a chance it was always me to plead cajole and say sorry for the reconciliation; sometimes not even being aware as to why the argument had started and why and for what was I pleading to be sorry, it was a small price to pay to get Rosy out of her shell and become ‘Jeet’ for me. Possibly her tendency to withdraw in a shell was from her deep seated feeling of insecurity a legacy from her past.
I wanted to teach her Foxtrot and Waltz she equally keen to learn unfortunately we made very little progress after a few tentative steps she would loose interest and fall in my arms after which the question of continuing the lessons just did not arise both the teaching and waiting came to a quick end.
Jeet did create serious problems for me far more than occasionally. She would lock the courtyard door from inside and drop the key in her blouse or shirt what ever she was dressed in at that time a forbidden though tempting site for me to access a difficult choice full of hazard especially with me all dressed in uniform and getting late to the office.
The Ammunition Dump near the AirportThe Regiment had 5.5inch medium guns in addition a few small caliber gunsIt was always worrisome to leave her alone in that wilderness whenever I had to especially when I happened to be the duty officer of the day and had go late in the night to check the guard deployed at the ammunition dump miles away near the Pathankot Airfield.
Being the lone Signaller among the Gunners I was a bit of the odd man out in the regiment. However, with the arrival of Jeet it soon changed. I now had, as I could see, a new and upgraded status. Jeet who had conquered me so easily with her innocence and earthly simplicity immediately cast a spell all- round. I could see that she was enjoying every moment of it being the centre of all the attention and the focus of so many admiring eyes a unique situation to be in, first time in her life.
I am grateful to the Army in general its traditions and the 40 Medium Regiment in particular for all that and the favourable first and enduring impression which was created on her of Army life. Landing at the Pathankot railway station with Jeet, I was pleasantly surprised to see Lt Puri there to receive us. (Puri a fine officer and a good friend he lost his life being swept away along with his jeep by the swift current of a flash flood while crossing a causeway when on exercise) She was accorded a royal welcome and both of us were straight away driven to the Officers Mess with our kit being taken to the house by another party in a different vehicle where all the officers including the Commanding Officer, Lt Col KD Vashistha were there to welcome us.
It was getting late in the afternoon, the sun going down in the west and getting a bit chilly on that late January or may be early February day. Everyone in an expansive mood with me on top of the world feeling so proud of Jeet the cynosure of every eye no one wanted to break the spell cast by her presence in the mess. The crowed of bachelors and other forced bachelors reluctantly at last let us to leave for our first house. As we came out of the Mess tent she was very proudly escorted by Col Vasistha who earlier had written on my application asking permission to get married 'Arrange pre- course training’ and marked it to the Adjutant escorted her for a round of the flower beds and with obvious pride indicated the bed of sweet-peas with the green tendrils climbing up the strings Rosy a lover of and an expert on flowers and shrubs quickly identified them to every ones surprise as common Green peas firmly establishing her credibility as an intelligent mature lady and not just a college girl masquerading as an Army wife. (To be continued...)
Brig Lakshman Singh, VSM (Retd)
