Civvie to Cantonment: My Sweet March into Army Life

Let’s get one thing straight. I didn’t join the Army. I married it.

One minute I was humming along to radio jingles in a city flat and the next, I was decoding acronyms that sounded like secret codes from another planet.

BR? CO? FOL?

I thought FOL was just a spelling error. Ah, the bliss of ignorance.

And so began my gloriously unpredictable march from civvie chaos to cantonment calm (well, mostly calm, let’s not forget the toddler phase in a two room quarter).

My travel bucket list quietly stepped aside for unit locations I couldn’t find on any tourist map. Glam weekends turned into adventure missions like chasing down coriander in a desert station or surviving an officers’ wives’ meet in 46 degrees without smudging my eyeliner, that’s tactical makeup deployment.

By the time I blinked, I had swapped sleek trolleys for dented trunks and was rolling out snacks for “unexpected guests” with the calm precision of a commando.

I’ve been many things — travel executive, school principal, Asia International crown holder, but nothing trains you better in grace under pressure than organising a dinner for 30… with no power, limited gas and a smile that says “this was totally planned.”

Life in olive green wasn’t always predictable but it was always unforgettable. With it’s surprise farewells, midnight packings, friendships that bloomed in borrowed crockery and laughter that echoed across mess lawns.

I didn’t just adapt. I evolved.

Into a multitasking marvel with a sixth sense for samosa stock and the uncanny ability to juggle charm, chaos and chaat like a pro.

This blog is my salute to that journey — the hiccups, the high heels, the hilarious detours and the heartwarming pitstops.

So unfasten that metaphorical trunk.

Let’s air out the memories, laugh over the messes and raise a toast with chai, of course,to the grand green tinted madness that shaped me.

Because behind every Army wife is a woman who can charm a crowd, command a kitchen and conquer cantonment chaos, all before her second cup of tea.