Getting to know life in the cantonment

When I got married, my father-in-law was posted at Unchi Bassi cantonment in Hoshiarpur. It was in an army mess that I first met my prospective in-laws with my parents. Since both my parents were in the teaching profession that was the first time I’d ever stepped inside a cantonment. But the minute we were ushered inside after a thorough frisking, I was lost in the charm of the place. As the car meandered through the immaculately maintained cantonment with smooth roads bordered by neatly trimmed lush green vegetation, I instantly fell in love with the place.

A bit undulating, the terrain reminded me of a mini hill station. The mess was ornately decorated with a huge chandelier and presented a picture of opulence. As the bearers went about serving us delicacies, I was mesmerised. The meeting went off well and after a couple of months, the marriage was solemnised.

Since my husband and I were working in Jalandhar, we would visit the cantonment on weekends. I would pack along a nice dress, knowing that we would invariably be asked to accompany my in-laws to a party. I chose to hide my excitement and act blasé but secretly I would yearn to be taken to the mess parties where I would feast on the conversation among articulate men and women. I used to take mental notes about the flirtatious and harmless banter between the opposite genders.

The same year, my sister-inlaw got married to an army officer posted at Kargil. The parties went on as usual but I soon realised my mother-in-law did not seem to be part of the festive spirit. She would often relegate herself to a corner and get lost in thoughts of her own. I wondered why she was not her exuberant self any more. At home, she would spend hours watching TV and shuffling channels to watch news about Jammu and Kashmir.

One day, when the news of an encounter was being aired on TV, I saw her eyes brimming with tears while I carelessly flipped the pages of a magazine. At that moment, I realised her cause of concern. While I only skimmed over the lavish parties and the glamour, there was more to the army than the razzle-dazzle. There were hidden concerns beneath those sparkling smiles.

When a few officers were transferred to sensitive areas, I could see a visible change in the behaviour of their wives. I could see the worry in their eyes, the gnawing fear about the wellbeing of their partner.

After some years, my fatherin-law retired and we moved out of the cantonment. But by then, I had gained quite an insight into army life. I knew those parties were not a frivolous way to kill time, but an attempt to lift the morale of the families. The social gatherings were merely a way of bonding among those who shared similar concerns. It was a way to make them feel loved, wanted and protected.

THE PARTIES IN THE MESS WERE NOT A FRIVOLOUS WAY TO KILL TIME, BUT AN ATTEMPT TO LIFT THE MORALE OF THE FAMILIES. THE SOCIAL GATHERINGS WERE MERELY A WAY OF BONDING AMONG THOSE WHO SHARED SIMILAR CONCERNS