The Arrival: Twenty Cadets from Kerala
In July 1971, about twenty of us landed at Sainik School, Amaravathi Nagar, in Tamil Nadu. We arrived armed with little more than our mother tongue, Malayalam. English, Hindi, and Tamil were entirely alien to us.
Our medium of instruction was English. We began with the English alphabet under Ms. Sheila Cherian, gradually progressing to Wren & Martin’s grammar and Ridout’s English Today. It was a slow, painstaking journey into a new world of words.
The Language Gauntlet
Tamil as a second language was out of the question – it would have required us to cram Thirukkural and ancient poetry from the start. Tamil literature is not easily grasped by beginners. So we were assigned Hindi as our second language.
We fared predictably badly. Hindi became our nightmare, especially during the Grade 10 public examination. Only the Almighty and the examiner who evaluated our papers know how we managed to pass. Our method was simple: cram until the last alphabet and reproduce everything on paper. Fortunately, Grade 11 and 12 required no second language.
Tamil remained our third language, taught by Mr. M.V. Somasundaram and Mr. K. Ekambaram. We began with the Grade 1 Tamil textbook in Grade 5. The only saving grace was that our agony ended in Grade 8 with a Grade 4 textbook – four years of effort condensed into four grades of progress.
The 10+2 Revolution
Our 1979 batch became the first to face the newly introduced 10+2 education system under the Central Board of Secondary Education (CBSE) – an extra year of studies. The previous batch had graduated in 1977 after Grade 11.
Grade 12 loomed as a particular terror for those like me, academically undistinguished, never having achieved any scholarly glory throughout school.
The Escape Plan
Why did I join the National Defence Academy (NDA) and subsequently serve the Indian Army for over two decades?
The honest answer: I ran away from studies.
The bonus of clearing the NDA entrance examination was immediate: we joined after Grade 11. No Grade 12. No culminating public exam. What relief!
School had led us to believe that NDA training was predominantly outdoor activities – Physical Training, games, drill, weapon training, equitation, military tactics – with minimal academic demands.
Reality dawned upon arrival.
The Reckoning
We had to complete a Bachelor’s degree programme covering over thirty subjects, from Engineering Drawing to International Relations, culminating in a degree from the prestigious Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU) – the only Bachelor’s degree this premier research university confers.
The Gods had not forgotten my academic transgressions, particularly in linguistics. How could they spare me from Hindi and Tamil?
Commission and Consequences
I was commissioned into the Regiment of Artillery – 75 Medium Regiment (Basantar River). The Regiment then had an intriguing class composition: one battery of North Indian Brahmins, another of Jats primarily from Haryana and Uttar Pradesh, and a third manned by soldiers from the four Southern states.
Now I had to master Hindi as spoken by Brahmins and Jats, and Tamil as the medium of communication for South Indian soldiers. The languages I had fled returned to haunt me.
The Irony of Escape
I had joined the military to escape studies. Two decades later, I retired having never stopped studying -and having never stopped running.
Even while commanding the Regiment, learning continued unabated. Modern high-tech radar systems, survey equipment, Unmanned Aerial Vehicles (drones) – all unfamiliar, all demanding mastery. Command required understanding, and understanding required poring over volumes of operational and maintenance manuals.
The Lesson That Lingers
My studies did not end when I hung up my military boots. They continued. They continue still. They will continue forever.
The boy who fled from textbooks discovered that learning cannot be outrun. It follows. It pursues. It eventually catches up, transforming the runner into a reluctant but perpetual student.
Perhaps that is the ultimate irony – and the ultimate gift. The escape artist became, despite himself, a lifelong learner. And in that transformation, discovered that the running itself was the education.
Anyone who stops learning is old, whether at twenty or eighty. Anyone who keeps learning stays young – Henry Ford.
REJINCES 