This was part of our over-a-cuppa discussion this evening. As usual, we were talking about this and that, and I'm not sure how it all got started, but here is how it went...
Me: When I was in the NCC, I attended the RD (Republic Day) Camp at Delhi, which was a month long camp.
Others: Listening (maybe wondering...oh no! not again!!)
Me: Almost at the fag end of the camp I got this telegram from my father. My camp commandant & superiors were all worried and called me over immediately. They were anxiously waiting for me to tear it open and read the contents. There were just 3 words printed on it. DEAD OR ALIVE?
Me: I hadn't written or called my parents in the almost 1 month period that I had been in the camp. My camp superiors were furious. They got me to write a long letter to my folks back at home right in front of them, just in case I changed my mind when I got back to the bunker.
Others: One month and you didn't write or call them? No wonder your dad sent you that telegram.
Me: That's me. When I get out of home, I'm in my own world. And I presume everybody else thinks that I'll do fine and leave me alone. But that's not how this world works. Some day, I'll mend my ways. Maybe, when my kids grow up and do the same with me!