When General Dyer jumped out of his seat
Posti (a dull person) is entrusted with the task of securing the borders of our country as a high-ranked BSF officer. General Dyer is a reputed colonel in the Indian Army. Joon (lice) happens to be a senior officer in the Military Engineering Services.
No need to panic, these are sobriquets earned by my classmates in their boyhood before they rose to dizzying heights. Studying at Sainik School, Kapurthala, a nursery for candidates for the National Defence Academy, nicknames were bestowed upon everyone within the first year of their admission, courtesy the collective wisdom of seniors and classmates.
Baptism of newcomers was considered incomplete without undergoing the ritual of rechristening. The nickname was akin to a tag that would be the identity proof of the student for the rest of his seven years as a hosteller and perhaps beyond.
Pet names given by class fellows were usually based on a quirky characteristic or odd habit of the student. Nobody objected to the ‘name calling’ rather everyone accepted it sportingly (perhaps there was no choice).
Dana (a grain) and Golu were the names for the round and rotund. Tall fellows were Ghoda (horse), whereas the shorter ones had to contend with Chuhi (mouse) and Gattu.
A laidback attitude earned the title of Susti (lethargic), while the boy feigning minor illnesses every now and then to evade the parade earned the label of Bimari (disease) for himself.
At the annual alumni meet, while trying to make out who’s who, the nicknames and roll numbers come handy when all other clues reach a dead end.
Though most of my colleagues have made a distinctive mark for themselves in different spheres of life, they haven’t lost their wit a wee bit. The mere mention of their pet names brings an instant sparkle to their eyes and a friendly smile on their faces.
Once while taking the history class, our teacher Mr Sher Singh was discussing the Jallianwala Bagh massacre and its fallout. One of the students who was dozing off on the back benches suddenly jumped out of his seat and raised his hand to shout, “Present sir!” at the mention of General Dyer during the lecture. General Dyer happened to be the pet name of the little fellow. The class was in splits.
Mr RS Mallah, our mathematics teacher, was also responsible for bestowing quite a few badges of honour on his naughty students. Rhino and hippopotamus were for the yawning ones, whereas the laggards won themselves the titles of nincompoop and moron. Knucklehead, lame brain and numbskull were adjectives he reserved for the likes of me who couldn’t fathom his complicated formulae to solve equally complex equations.
Coming from Hindi and Punjabi medium schools, his impeccable accent left us in awe. We tried hard to emulate him for days together but to no avail.
Destiny guided us to different walks of life but the memories, particularly the titles earned during the hostel days, will stay with us forever.
American philosopher Thomas Paine rightly said: Titles are but nicknames, and every nickname is a title.
BAPTISM OF NEWCOMERS WAS INCOMPLETE WITHOUT THE RITUAL OF RECHRISTENING