Mouse

Oh dear, a Mouse

When we moved into the permanent accommodation allotted to us I inherited a resident cat, who responded to the  unimaginative name of Puddy. She was an affectionate old thing and had been looked after by the previous occupants so I happily took over as her care giver.

One morning I was sitting out on the veranda sipping my morning cup of tea, when I saw Puddy rushing along with something small and black in her mouth. I grimaced with disgust thinking she had caught a mouse, but when she dropped the sodden object at my toes I realised it was just a  new born kitten. I had never seen such a tiny little thing and picked it up gingerly not really knowing what to do. I decided to make a cosy home in the guest room for my feline family and would leave a window permanently open so mother cat could come and go as she pleased.

who grew and grew into

The little one grew into this amazingly beautiful jet black tom whom I adored as my own child. Unfortunately the name that came to mind when I first saw him was what my baby was called - Mouse! I felt a deep unexplainable affinity for this animal and never having brought up a cat before I came to realise what fun, funny and entertaining creatures they can be. Once while walking home in a drizzle after a party late one night, I was met by a wet and bedraggled bunch of fur who had been patiently waiting under a bush for me all the while. I remember thinking that this did not seem to be typical behaviour for a cat, from what I had heard and read.
My friend Lalima lived upstairs and she definitely did not share the same adoration I felt for my pet. I was startled to see her in a very angry mood at my door one afternoon and asked her what the problem was. She demanded that I immediately change the name of my stupid cat and I laughed hysterically when I heard the reason why she was insisting on this. She had been summoned to her daughter Antara's school by a very worried class teacher who gently told Lalima that there seemed to be a problem. Antara was a bright girl in many ways, she stated, but  just could not understand why every time she was shown a picture of a cat or asked to spell the word, she would seriously insist that C-A-T was Mouse!

Mouse fell ill a year and a half later with some sort of bronchial problem and I was totally helpless since there were no vets around whom I could consult. My heart shattered when he died in my arms just a couple of days later. I wrapped him in a fancy black shawl and asked my husband to dig a little grave for him in the back garden. I sensed Sud wanting to say something about the expensive shroud but he saw my pathetic state and held his peace. Everyone around knew how shattered I was and I had people coming over to commiserate and say how sorry they were for my loss, as if God forbid, someone in my family had passed away.

Once I got over the grieving I felt it was somehow for the better since we would have had to leave Mouse behind when we moved out on posting, which I think would have been more difficult for me. My baby had a short life but it was a comfortable and happy one and I would never have to worry about how he was managing without his mama, or if someone was taking care of him the way I did.

MOUSE

The Beautiful East

We were allotted a permanent accommodation after eight months in the 'basha', so could finally unpack all our worldly goods and set up house properly. We lived in Tezpur over three years, which was the longest tenure that we ever stayed in one place in all our time in the Air Force.

I loved everything about this wild and untamed land. I have never seen such strange looking vegetables and fruit or more alien creepy crawlies. I would regularly have to sweep out baby snakes that had wriggled in after a particularly heavy downpour, since I never had the heart to kill them. What did give me the creeps were frogs that almost seemed to fly through the air and stick to walls and plants and I dreaded the day one of them would mistake me for a tree!

The lush rampant beauty of the East always fascinated me and we would often drive into the picturesque state of Arunachal for picnics. Tipi was a favourite haunt, with its cosy guest house and furiously raging Bharali river. Asia's biggest orchidarium is located here as well but the more common varieties grew in natural unbridled bunches everywhere. I would carefully pry them off  huge trees and bring them home to attach to the ones in my garden where they happily flourished.
There were evenings when the air was thick with fireflies and we would sit in our veranda just enjoying this amazing spectacle. Sometimes one of these minute creatures would get into the house and I would rush around with cupped hands to try and gently catch and let it out, since the idea of this tiny marvel dying trapped indoors upset me.

I will never forget the storms in this part of the world. I have never seen lightening more jagged and beautiful or rain more torrential. Winds howled with such savage ferocity that I could not even open a door against the strength of it. Our garden chairs would fly away if we did not hurriedly drag them in, and we got to doodling identifying marks on them since some evil ladies would keep the ones in good condition and leave the 'rut-put' ones unclaimed.
We would regularly go on fishing excursions with our friends Arup Raha and Cawas Motishaw. Arup's wife Lily was going through a difficult pregnancy so preferred to stay home, while Cawas was a carefree bachelor ever ready for fun. The four of us would drive out on our motor bikes at the crack of dawn, with all our tackle ready for a day of serious fishing. We only caught one miserable little thing in all the times we went which I ended up having to gut and cook once we got home - a rather disturbing experience since I had no idea of how to go about this gruesome task.
I always tremendously enjoyed these outings and it never mattered that we were unlucky fisher folk, got bitten by leeches or chewed by  elusive 'dimdams', which were nasty little gnats invisible to the naked eye but whose bite left itchy spots which scratched for weeks after.

Serious work

Monkey Business

We stayed in our little 'basha' for over eight months before we were allotted a permanent house. I was alone a lot of the time and found myself entertained by a band of monkeys, who arrived every few days to wreck havoc in the homes of those not on guard. My neighbour Lalima once scuttled over in complete hysteria, saying she had inadvertently left the front door open while taking a bath and a band of marauders had invaded her premises. She escaped through the rear entrance and rushed over for help. Once the intruders left we crept back to take stock of the damage. They had pried open her ration  'dubbas' and scattered the contents all over, they had raided the fridge for eggs and milk and left oily paw prints everywhere. The devastation of upturned furniture and scattered cushions was a sight that left us completely aghast and took hours to clean up.

On one occasion I was in the kitchen chopping up onions and tomatoes when I felt something brush against my leg. I presumed it was one of the resident cats and leaned down to pet it, when I discovered to my horror one of the cheeky creatures sitting placidly by my side. I slowly straightened up and then stood very still not knowing what to do. I stayed that way for about five minutes and so did the monkey. It did not seem hungry or aggressive and just seemed to enjoy leaning against my leg. Time ticked by and I began to get restless imagining myself standing like a frozen statue all day. I decided to take matters into my own hands and clutching the knife firmly twirled around with a dreadful shriek, brandishing my weapon menacingly. Luckily, friend monkey made a dash for the door instead of attacking me so I heaved a sigh of relief and got on with my culinary activity.
While taking a nap one sultry afternoon I was woken by the light fixture that hung by a wire from the ceiling, moving around strangely. My first thought was that there had been an earthquake, but when I noticed the wire being pulled into the roof, I realised the simians must have got into the false ceiling and were simply amusing themselves up there!

I discovered by chance that these crazy apes loved onions. I would throw them some and they would huddle in a group chomping away delightedly with eyes screwed tightly shut and tears streaming down their faces. It was a sight that never failed to amuse me and most of the vegetables that we got in our monthly ration usually ended up as monkey food. 

Settling In

The first thing that struck me on getting off the train in Tezpur was the sweat inducing humidity, as I had never known the discomfort of living in a damp and muggy climate. In those days we did not own an air conditioner and coolers were completely ineffective in this kind of steamy heat, which was something I would have to learn to live with. The other aspect that immediately caught my attention was the lush greenery - I was intrigued by all the unfamiliar flora and dense, wild looking, tangled shrubbery..
We were given a tiny 'basha' to live in until a status house was made available These were primitive dwellings made of reinforced mud with a thatched roof, which boasted a tiny bedroom, an even tinier drawing/dining room and a shabby little kitchen. We owned no furniture and boxes were  substituted for beds and settees. This meagre accommodation was set amidst wild undergrowth and huge trees, which had a cheeky band of monkey residents whom I became quite familiar with over the months.. After the initial shock of seeing this living arrangement, I must say I settled in happily enough for the next eight months and actually grew to love it.

The first morning Sud had to report early for work and I did not bother to wake up and make him his tea. The boxes were still locked and I had planned to spend the day sorting things out. When I eventually emerged into the kitchen, I saw my poor husband had unlocked the trunks and tried to rustle up a cuppa for both of us. He had not found the pots and pans he was looking for, and I noticed much to my amusement, that he had inventively boiled up the 'chai' in a large pressure cooker and strained it with a corner of the mosquito net!

I unpacked as best I could in the tiny living space and was given help and  support from my next door neighbours Lalima and Umesh Shastri. I don't know what I would have done without Lalima, who tucked me under her wing and eased what could have been a traumatic time for me. She was the one who taught me to make the most awesome 'kheer'. I had no idea that only a small bit of rice was needed for this preparation and after a few disastrous attempts turned to her for advice. It was with great amusement that she  showed me how much was actually needed to produce the perfect dish.

Sud and I shared space with a cat and her three kittens whom I adored, and it broke my heart when we had to move out and leave them behind. The quarters we were eventually allotted already had a resident cat whom the lady of the house had been looking after. The photograph below is a rare one, since Sud turned out to have a nasty cat allergy but that was something we found out much later so these were uncomplicated and carefree times.

Preparng for Departure

The news that we were posted to 28 Squadron, a Mig-21 unit of the Indian Air Force in Tezpur, Assam, sent shivers of dread down my spine, but I was trying hard to mentally prepare myself for the move. Large tin trunks were bought for linen, curtains and kitchen items and the local carpenter was employed to measure and manufacture a crate for the refrigerator.

I had never packed a whole household before, so mum would arrive every morning and meticulously put away all our worldly goods. I just lolled around drinking tea and feeling depressed. Every time Sud would make a suggestion of how things should be done, he was glared at and told to go have a beer at the mess or do it himself! This switched off attitude of mine caused plenty of problems once we reached our destination since I had no idea of where mother had put what.  From this experience I did learn that one had to stow stuff in a very organised manner since accommodation was always temporary before getting what was known as a 'status' house. Things that were essential should be easily accessible while the frills that could be done without were put away accordingly.

The couple of months before the move to this remote part of the country found mum and me bursting into tears whenever we met, and both father and Sud would try and keep out of the way of all this high emotional drama. When the day of departure dawned it was Dad who came to see us off at the Gorakhpur station as Mum has never been good at goodbyes.

In 1984 the east was connected to the rest of the country by a meter gauge railway line and we were lucky enough to have a coupe into which I miserably settled after a last outburst of tears when I hugged father one last time.

The journey was painful for Sud as I snuffled and sniffled all the way. At one point he quietly admonished that I was not going to the gallows, just on a posting, which remark did nothing to ease my anguish.

We chugged along for more than twenty four hours to cover the over one thousand kilometres up to Rangiya junction from where we had to change to another train which finally took us to Tezpur.



Meter gauge railway line to Tezpur



Air Force Station - Gorakhpur

The next few months found Sud and me happily playing at house-house. We were allotted a small Flying Officer's accommodation, which I had done up beautifully with all the stuff that we had spent months shopping for. New curtains from Fab India, fancy kitchen appliances and crisp  sheets exquisitely embroidered by the Swedish missionaries in Chauri Chaura, all made our little flat very cosy and welcoming. A part time maid was hired who took care of the boring daily chores which made life even more comfortable. That she stole and wore my sexy lingerie I only found out much later and decided to ignore!

In 1984, a gas connection had a waiting period of over two years so we had invested in a Nutan stove. At home we had always used an electric hot plate and oven so figuring out this strange apparatus was a unique experience in itself. I was fumbling and bumbling in the kitchen anyway, so whenever I got wind of a squadron 'bounce' I would ring up mum who would send the cook by the next bus to prepare a decent meal!

'Bouncing' is an Air Force tradition which always made my heart sink with dismay. A group of youngsters, mostly bachelors, would show up at the door unannounced in the wee hours of the morning demanding food. The lady of the house would have to rustle up sustenance for ravenous mouths, no matter how unreasonable the time! Not being a proficient cook, I would struggle to put together something and would serve whatever I had manufactured with a loaf of bread since I had not mastered the art of rice and 'roti'.

Mum would regularly drive down from Saraya with delicious cakes, bakes and bunches of fresh flowers from the garden and whenever the  lads found out she had come by, they would innocently turn up knowing there would be something special to eat.

When the squadron would go out on detachment, Malini, the flight commander Harish Masand's wife and I would go back to Saraya for the days the men would be away. This ended up causing much resentment with the other ladies, since I was a new comer and she a senior officer's wife, but we shared a close friendship so never ever let the pettiness bother us.

The easy familiarity between the Masands and us has stood the test of time, and we have seen each other through personal and professional ups and downs over the last thirty years. In fact rumours of a torrid affair between Harish and me were the source of much speculation in Air Force circles, and our so called romance is something the four of us and our children have had many a hearty laugh about.
Six months after we were married, we got the news that Sud was posted to Tezpur, in Assam. I was shell shocked, since the idea of being away from my family was too awful to bear and I had conveniently tucked the thoughts of a transfer completely out of my mind. I was terrified of the unknown territory I was heading towards and had many a weep session with mum, while Sud looked on in puzzlement at my extreme reaction to the move.

HoneyMoan

Breath taking view on the flight to Srinagar

While glancing into Sud's bag to see what he was carrying on our honeymoon, I was horrified to discover a pair of 'long johns'. I stared aghast at the offending undergarment and glaring at my new husband in a threatening manner, growled that it was either the 'long johns' or me that would accompany him on the trip! He tried to explain that Gulmarg was freezing in December and he was susceptible to the cold, but seeing my unsympathetic stare he sputtered out of excuses. I rummaged some more and came up brandishing a monkey cap, but all nasty comments were bitten back when I saw a very pleading face looking back at me. I decided the headgear I would be able to put up with, but the 'long johns' I just could not abide.

For those of you who have never encountered a pair of 'long johns', and  good old 'fauji' issue ones at that, it is difficult to explain what an unromantic piece of clothing it is. In those days we had none of the soft warm inners that are available now. LJ's were obscene looking, thick, scratchy, poky things in a nondescript yellowish creamish colour that bulged obscenely in all the wrong places. Definitely not the most flattering or conducive piece of clothing for a honeymoon.

Once these technicalities were sorted out we left on what we thought was a ten day trip to Gulmarg in Kashmir. The flight was beautiful and staring out of the aircraft window at snow capped mountains was an absolutely breath taking experience. The plane was full of honeymooners, since December is a popular month for weddings. The other new brides were all resplendent in shiny clothes and 'chudas', whereas I was in my normal raggedy jeans with the only similarity bonding us being a parting full of 'sindoor'.

After spending a night in Srinagar we took a taxi up to Gulmarg where we stayed in five star comfort courtesy a gift from my father. The first place we checked out was the bar where I excitedly decided to experiment with exotic cocktails. Sud grimly stuck to his beer and it was only months later that he admitted he was worried about the finances and each drink I was indulging in was ridiculously expensive!

Gulmarg had just had its first snowfall and was quite magical since neither of us had ever seen the soft powdery flakes before. Sitting and gazing out at the scenery, very much in love, my darling whispered tenderly that we would be back every year, same time same place to celebrate our anniversary. I snuggled up contentedly and agreed it was the most wonderful idea.
After just three days of bliss we got the news that Sud was needed back at the squadron since they had to go  on an important detachment.  We had to abruptly cut short our honeymoon and get back to reality much sooner than expected.
I must also admit that it has been twenty eight years since then and we never did get to make it back!
 

Me, Sud and monkey cap!