Life of an Army kid

I’m an army brat. Yes..A soldier’s daughter. It’s funny how we brag about our fathers’ occupation, isn’t it?

Well, No, it isn’t.

I have lived the two worlds. The two incongruous worlds. 18 years of fauji life and 6 years as a civilian. These six years, albeit one-third, have taught me more than the former years did or could have for that matter.

I’ve never had a ‘home’ per se and I’d often be surprised to talk to ones who have had. I remember spending all my evenings playing sports outside. Playing till I dropped dead. Spending summers in a swimming pool, attending the most lavish parties in town.

Open-air theatres served us with the best movies of those times. We’d commute to schools in a three ton (google it! It’s more exciting than you think 😉 )

Money has never been in abundance in a fauji’s pocket. But class has never been money’s b***h either 😉

My school peers and colony friends would wave an unfinished goodbye to each other every three years. Who would want to leave a city he/she’s just begun settling in? It’d be a nightmare. Yet, we’d accept the new city with the same level of thrill, zest and zeal.

For the record, I have travelled to 20 states, lived for a decent two to three years in 7….Score eh? 😉

It’s extremely difficult to pen down somethings in life. I wish I could magnify every word as I jot it down right now. To an extent that it shows you my world.

Yes, I am an independent, earning civilian now. Someone I’ve worked hard for and have always wanted to be. A software developer. A competitive Indian. But I always wonder, what is the fight for? Money?!

To come to think of it, time is the most unbiased of them all, isn’t it?

As I stare at a stranger in a random overcrowded bus, who’s busy delving into her phone with the earphones on, probably wondering of which pub/disc to attend the coming weekend, I realize how fortunate I was and AM.

And however cliched it might sound, no..absolutely no amount of money can ever replace a fauji life. :’)

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