On Air Force Day, a fauji brat tells you why her ilk is so darn proud

As the forces celebrate Air Force Day today, here's a little perspective on what makes fauji brats "snobbish".

“So, where are you from?”

“I’m from pretty much the entire country.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“My dad’s an Air Force officer. We keep shifting homes.”

“Oh, fauji brat! Cool yaar. Tumhara toh saara samaan canteen se aata hoga (you must be getting your groceries from the canteen).”

How a fauji brat reacts in that moment says a lot about our upbringing. And as a majority of fauji brats would agree, we mostly decide to let this pass with a smile. Why? Because we’d rather not go through the drudgery of explaining what fauji life is and why we’re entitled to subsidised grocery rates to another ignorant.

That particular scene plays out in our lives every three years. They call us fauji brats. We're supposed to be "snobbish" by default. We're supposed to operate like we're better than others. At least that's how we’re perceived.

The truth, however, is far from it.

When you go station to station every couple of years, trying to get a whole new set of people to like you, the kind of “casual” comments you react to, you have the liberty to choose. But we’re just ‘fauji brats’, what do we know?

Since you haven’t really met us, let this be our meet-cute: Hello, we’re fauji brats; nice to meet you.

With pleasantries out of the way, let us really tell you about our “snobbish” selves: we live so far away from civilisation that animals, trees and books become our only constant friends. We dive into absolutely unknown set of people with the hope of getting along every three years. We live without either of our parents, despite our parents being happily married, because our fauji father/mother’s suddenly been posted to a secluded station that has no schools. But that’s just mundane, everyday stuff that’s not even worth a second thought. Let us tell you what REALLY makes us who we are: saying bye to our fathers, with a smile, as they leave for the war front. Living each day, day after day, without hearing from him, not knowing when he'll call--if at all. Going to bed each night, not knowing if your father has made it through the day. In all honesty, the last time that happened was during the Kargil War in 1999. We, the fauji families, had the luxury of hearing from our family members from the line of control every seven to ten days back then. To think what families must’ve gone through during the Siachen Conflict of 1984 or the second Indo-Pak War of 1965, the heart only shudders.

As a natural progression of things then, instances like these lend us a certain perspective on life and its priorities that most “normal” people are unable to process. But since they (I could loosely be referring to ‘civilians’ here) do not understand what our years have been about, they choose to call the outlook shaped by these harsh experiences “snobbish” or “snooty” or “high-headed”.

Very well, then. Now that the world has brazenly chosen to fit us into certain brackets, let me tell you what does indeed make us feel “privileged”--simply the feeling of being a tiny part of something so glorious and grand on a day like today.

It’s October 8, and in our part of the world, it’s known as the Air Force Day, which has been celebrated an as anniversary of sorts for the Indian Air Force since 1932.

Today is the day Air Force brats like me feel like we indeed stand out in a crowd. Why? Because we get to sit next to our father, dressed to the T in his crisp uniform, watching mean machines fly right past us during the Air Force day parade held in the Capital/Hindon most years.

Can you imagine two heavy-duty fighter aircrafts draw out a pink heart in the sky right in front of your eyes—replete with an arrow right through it, by the way—even in your wildest dreams? Well, I have; not just once. And it was beyond legendary.

That’s the October 8 Air Force Day fly-past for you. And it’s definitely “cooler” than you think. No movie, no web-series, no Netflix show will give you the rush of seeing two of India’s best fighter jets — Sukhoi Su 30s — fly just five metres away from each other, while one is turned upside-down (yes, we’re talking about the bottom of both aircrafts facing each other, parallely, mid-air). How’s that for privilege?

But wait, before you call us a snob again, know that we break bread with the same heroes as the night falls. Because an Amitabh Bachchan or a Shah Rukh Khan or a John Abraham have always been too mainstream for us. We like our heroes, like our lives, a little off-beat.

And I say this sitting pretty in a pair of boots my father once wore for a few of his sorties.

Sincerely,

Proud Fauji Brat