Drill Ustaads of NDA

 "Shyam Sharma makra cadet!" That was the usual refrain from our Drill Instructor (Ustaad)  Subedar Ramgopal from the Rajput Regiment in NDA. Despite having told him umpteen number of times  that my name was Suyash, he continued addressing me as Shyam in the two and a half years that we spent in the Academy. The fact is that Drill Instructors are institutions by themselves, each one leaves a profound impression on us despite the fact that what they actually teach us on the Drill Square is not rocket science, but nevertheless they leave a lasting impression on all of us. Although Ramgopal was not of the same calibre as Subedar Major and Honorary Lieutenant Darbara Singh or Subedar Lobi Ram or even Subedar Menon, whose claim to fame was his threat, "Cadet main kala naag, aapne baap ko bhi nahi chhodta"( "Cadet I am a black Cobra, don't even spare my father") was enough to scare the cadets into staying within the realms of discipline and not cross paths with him. 

While Darbara Singh had such an aura around him that he was looked upto by all the cadets, not just for his impeccable turn out but for his sense of integrity and loyalty. Since he was the head of all the Drill Instructors he controlled them, unleashed them on our misdemeanours and many a times motivated us with his soul stirring accounts of 1962  Sino-Indian war that he had been part of. His account of the significance of the "Nishaan", the Regimental Colours left all of us teary eyed having understood that the colours depict the  sacrifice of our brave brothers who laid down their lives for our motherland. 

The usual picture that comes to mind of Drill Ustaads is smartly turned out, ramrod straight gait, cane in hand their marching - almost like poetry in motion, the moves were as though a classical dancer was in her element, the pauses between the execution of flawless drill manouvres left the cadets almost spell bound. The manner in which they handled a cane or a rifle was as though it was not a mere prop but an additional limb on their torso. The movements were so smooth that the props just added to the magic being weaved in front of us. No wonder, we cadets were so mesmerised and ended up surprising ourselves with our performance at each Passing Out Parade. The standards of drill presented invariably  left the guests dumbfounded.

The Drill Ustaads were not mere Drill instructors they were the keepers of the discipline of the cadets, they were omnipresent, at the Gole market, Pune town near the cinema theatres, bus stops, restaurants which we frequented, MG Road, Deccan, Kondhwa or Pashan Gate; on the road in the Academy, be it Periphery or the road to Khadakwasla Lake or the Third Battalion Road. They would emerge from the shadows in the dark,  from bushes or behind trees nicely camouflaged just waiting to pounce on their prey, any cadet who was not following the laid down rules, i.e. not marching/cycling in squad, cutting bounds, slovenly turned out and we ended up losing our I-slip (Identity slip) which we all were required to carry, bearing our name, number and squadron and ended up finding our names in the next Battalion/Academy Routine Orders with the award of punishments.

The most remarkable part of the relationship between a cadet and the Drill Ustaad was that they were aware all along that their trainees are officer cadets and will soon be officers under whom they will have to serve and will have to salute. Elsewhere the teacher and taught equation remains unchanged throughout their lives, teachers are always on a pedestal, but here   they carry on nonchalantly; salute their trainees with the same pride may be a little more as their protege are now worthy of being saluted by them. That ladies and gentlemen is the biggest strength of Indian Armed Forces.