The Man with the missing Olive Green

It was the summer of the 1980. The train chugged along changing landscapes as eighteen year old Sanjeev gazed out of the rusty Sleeper class window. His Class 12 board exams had finished a month back, and most of his friends were spending the last few days of their pre-college holidays playing cricket in the sandy fields of Bhilai, his hometown. Sanjeev was an accomplished batsman himself, having represented his district at the State Level. However, his present goal was set. He was hell-bent on joining the Indian Army, and had cleared the written exam with ease. He was going to Khadakwasla for the interview and the subsequent Medical Examination.

Even as he admired the rapidly changing scenery outside, Sanjeev was lost in contemplation. He was a very patriotic boy, and was full of idealism to the core. A career in the Armed Forces appealed to him immensely, not least because he had always been a very outdoor sort of a person. His father wanted him to take academics seriously, but that had never been much of a problem for him. He was one of the toppers at Kendriya Vidyalaya Bhilai, back when Government schools were considered to be far better than their private counterparts. When the board results came out eventually, Sanjeev finished 3rd in all of Madhya Pradesh, a remarkable achievement for someone not very studious.

The issue at hand was one of his eyesight, Indian armed forces are very stringent about eye power levels, and this young man was myopic by 4 diopters. The limit mentioned in the form was 0.75, but Sanjeev was sure that he would be able to clear the examination. The source of his confidence originated from his recently purchased set of contact lenses, then not a very common thing to possess in India.

He finally reached Khadakwasla early in the morning on the day of the interview. He removed his glasses and carefully wore the lenses in the train itself, attracting curious looks from several co-passengers. He trooped into the academy at precisely 8 am, an hour before his scheduled interview. There were several candidates waiting nervously in the lobby, each waiting to be called in by the peon. Sanjeev was called at 11 am, and he entered the interview room confidently. He answered all questions with authority, leaving the panel quite impressed. He was asked to proceed immediately to the medical examination room, where a few basic tests were conducted. The last but one test was his eye test, where the doctor took ten seconds to figure out that the examinee was wearing lenses. Sanjeev begged him to not reject him merely on this one shortcoming, but the doctor would hear none of it.

Sanjeev finally ended up doing engineering like most of his friends, but his heart was not really in it. His mind would often wonder as to what life could have been had the doctor passed him in that medical examination. Years later, when his son watched Border and passionately declared that he wanted to serve in the army, Sanjeev was reminded of his own fervor for the Olive Green jacket.

That eighteen year boy is my dad. And like him, even I never realized my dream of serving for the armed forces, thanks to my poor eyesight. Like him, even I ended up doing engineering, something which I realized I never was interested in. Even today, I am searching for meaning in life, something which perhaps wouldn’t have been the case if I had the opportunity to become a part of the romance of the Indian Armed Forces.