Boarding school diary of 9-yr-old
Gurjinder Singh Brar
LITTLE did we realise when we joined Punjab Public School at Nabha, at the tender age of nine, that a war will soon be upon us. Maybe our parents, too, were oblivious of the fact that minor skirmishes on the Indo-Pak border since January that year could turn into a full-fledged war. The war began in September, after we came back to the boarding school from the summer holidays and were settling down to face our first annual exams in December.
It all started with the visit of the civil defence and defence personnel to the school, surveying the area and speaking to the Headmaster, Mr JK Kate, and the teachers. Then began the digging of the Z-shaped bunkers around the school; windowpanes were covered with black chart paper or cloth. About 50 of us had joined that year and we all were given training as to what to do in case of any emergency, which we could hardly foresee at that age. The hoots of the sirens began at odd hours and we would rush to safety as told, either going under the bed and pulling a mattress over us or reaching for the bunkers outside.
This routine was followed a number of times during those 20 or so days. It was a little scary at first but became fun thereafter. At the hoot of the siren, the teachers would see to it that we were well covered and would only let us out when the all-clear signal would come.
We would hear the roar of the planes not knowing which ones they were — ours or those of the Pakistanis. The blackout was unusual in the beginning but later we became used to it, rather enjoying it. Some of us had torches but would hide these when the teachers came, especially Ms Malkani, the Junior School incharge, who would not only scold us but also punish us for our follies.
She and the Headmaster used to make frequent rounds to see that everything was under control. It always was. Nothing serious fortunately happened except a bomb being found in the nearby village of Bagrian. It became the talk of the town. Yes, once a snake was found in a trench, but no harm was done.
We were too small to realise the seriousness of war but got over it without any scar on our minds. This despite many of us having dads in the Army.
Ours was a special batch. We joined the school in 1965 and left in 1971, the year of the other war. Once some of us saw what we felt were dogfights in the sky perhaps over faraway Ambala. It was an unforgettable experience at Nabha during both the wars.
The writer is the (Malwa) Area Coordinator of Science Olympiad Foundation, New Delhi
