People often ask me about my life out of uniform. Honestly, I have had no problems. Not so far. Instead, I find it quite refreshing. No routine, no parades, no briefing, no impending operations. Having donned the uniform since the age of thirteen until I hung up my boots last year could I ever visualize life out of uniform? Not really. But, as I said, transition has been quite smooth - no hang overs, no regrets. People have been very positive in their interactions. Government departments have been responsive whenever I have approached for assistance. The genuine respect for the uniform is quite evident and it makes my heart swell with pride. Arunachal, to that extent, is the most nationalistic state in the country, I daresay. It has been kind of a revelation for me to experience the freedom of being a common man in an environment of positivity!   
Having interacted with people from all hues in the past few months I also realize I have seen very little of Arunachal. My visits to Arunachal all these years have always been short and hectic. So, never had an opportunity to explore its diverse culture and traditions. Yes, I do have plans in place to travel around Arunachal to visit the remote areas and enjoy its pristine beauty. I want to make up for the lost years and be a part of our simple rustic societal life and the clean environment. I would love to experience the luxury of being with nature. In essence, this is where I began my life’s journey and this is where I intend to spend the twilight years of my life, in the peaceful and tranquil surroundings of ‘the land of rising sun’.
Going back in time, as a young boy, I always used to feel homesick while leaving home after a short holiday. Sitting in the bus, I would cry softly. Journey, in itself, used to be an experience. Start in a convoy; board a train, change train, yet another train, catch a bus and finally, home. It would take about good six days, one way, if one were lucky not to miss a connecting train! Can you imagine travelling in a train without reservation? Air travel was beyond our planning parameters. Moreover, there were very few flights to the NE unlike the present times. Resultantly, almost half my leave period used to be spent in my to and fro journey. These journeys had their own tales of thrills and frills. Travelling on my own as a young boy from Aalo to Dehradun and back, and elsewhere in the country in later years, I did encounter numerous interesting and perilous situations, which I will definitely recount and share at a later time frame. 
People of my vintage would bear me out when I say that our only means of ‘keeping in touch’ used to be ‘letters’ - so, one became adept at letter writing. I used to meticulously maintain a diary to keep track of letters I have written and replies received thereof. And as a young officer when deployed in remote inhospitable locations, living in bunkers in snowcapped mountains, one had lots of time to read books and indulge in letter writing. Believe you me, penning 10-15 pages used to be ‘baye hath ka khel’!  The amount of reading one did then, I don’t think such an opportunity will ever come again. The only source of music used to be a transistor radio - which became an inescapable appendix to my personal inventory. Mind you, cassette players came about much later. I also recollect experiencing the poetic urges every time I watched the snowflakes fall in a lucid soft rhythmic motion, and I did indulge in poetry-writing during those lonely interludes. Sometimes romantic - I was young after all (!!) – but, at times, philosophical. There were also moments when one felt despondent and wondered if being in uniform was the right choice. But then, one always managed to overcome such negative emotions by interacting with the soldiers and sharing their woes and joys. These were the periods of bonding with the troops one commanded. I think I evolved as a person in the company of these inimitable, indomitable and ever cheerful ‘Gorkhas’. I also learnt to smoke (yes, unfiltered cigarettes!) in their august company – thanks to their ‘marketing skills’ - and it took me more than twenty years and a ‘strong will’ to quit smoking!
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Tit-bits... 
....As the years rolled by, life grew more comfortable. STD calls became the fastest means of communication. But because STD booths were few and far between in remote areas, we had to travel miles to locate one. Such trips were planned deliberately because one had to cater for the soldiers also to make calls. Calls used to be expensive and hence, it was essential to keep a track of the meter reading lest you ended up borrowing from your buddy to pay for the call! In spite of the availability of STD facility, my letter writing continued and it remained a source of happiness for many more years. Some of my ‘good ole friends’ have shown me the letters I had written to them years ago and I marvel at my own stamina to have penned such long letters! They, obviously, had found the letters worth treasuring and as they put it, could never muster the courage to destroy them. Letter writing appears outdated in these days of cell phones, email and text messages and has sadly been put in the back burner by the present generation. But it’s an art worth reviving, and not because of some misplaced sense of nostalgia, but because when it comes to sharing one’s true thoughts, sincere sympathies, ardent love, and deepest gratitude words travelling along an invisible super-highway will never suffice. We can’t blame the millennial children but, perhaps, letter writing could be made a part of our academic curriculum so that the menace of social media does not dilute or kill the novelty of penning ones thoughts and feelings in the form of letters. It’s an art worth preserving. What say you?!
Adios…..till the next!!

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Kenter Joya Riba

(Managing Editor)
      She is a graduate in Science with post graduation in Sociology from University of Pune. She has been in the media industry for nearly a decade. Before turning to print business, she has been associated with radio and television.
Email: kenterjoyaz@easternsentinel.in / editoreasternsentinel@gmail.com
Phone: 0360-2212313

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