The air was pregnant with expectations. Well, if the sultry June air can do so at all. We, the officers, were drenching below our vests while being queued up in a formation under the scorching sun awaiting the august arrival of our Div. Cdr Maj. Gen Shardul Singh. In addition to being stringently accurate about details, Gen Singh had a reputation of being nagging and demanding. 

It was about 11.30 in the morning, and the sun was about to reach its zenith. We had been standing since last half an hour, and shifting our weight alternately to each leg. There was not much else to do. JCOs and jawans had a worse luck. They were standing in a different constellation a little apart from us, and doing so since half an hour prior to us.

One thing about Army. It is never short of humour. Even if it was a temporary barrack on our Op. Blue Star at Kapurthala in Punjab, even if it was humid outside at 40°C, there was some element of fun.

The source of entertainment was our Commanding Officer Col. Nanda himself. He was flapping and was at a fix about what was to be offered to the general on his arrival. He was fidgeting on the veranda of the erstwhile secondary school along with the Adjutant Maj. Ohri. Compared to the composed countenance of Maj. Ohri, Col Nanda looked as if stung by an awkward bee. He had to. He'd be held responsible for any lapse in the battalion.

Mess Hav. Darshan Rawat was having a harrowed time hurtling helter skelter in between the kitchen and the CO. The general was about to arrive in fifteen minutes. 

Darshan had first arranged for tea. Then the CO told, "For all you know the general might ask for coffee."

Darshan came back running with a pot of coffee.

The adjutant spoke up. "In this scorching weather, for all you know, the general might like to have a cold drink."

"Right you are," nodded Col. Nanda. "Darshan, bring each type of cold drinks available in our stock."

"Yes, sir," Darshan saluted, and was back in minutes with an ice box full of cold drinks.

"How about a chilled beer, sir?" Maj. Ohri winked, "For all you know..."

"Right. How come this missed my mind? Darshan!"

Before he could proceed further Darshan put up a bottle of beer shoved in an ice-tumbler.

The CO scrutinied the beer bottle pensively. Then he jiggled around for a minute. "But for all you know, the general might ask for nimbu-paani."

Darshan darted towards the kitchen.

In all this pandemonium a hawker had entered stealthily into the ground with his pushcart. His signboard announced the stuff he sold: Tukaram's Handi Kulfi. He was blissfully unaware that the school was closed and it was converted into a military barrack.

Col. Nanda's view caught the entry of the hawker. In front of Gen. Shardul Singh it could create a fiasco. "Get him out of the ground, urgent," he growled. 

Two jawans ran after him. The poor fellow ran for his life along with his cart with the swiftness of Darshan Rawat moving to the kitchen presently.

Maj. Ohri stood as cool as ever. Politely he asked, "Was it right to drive the hawker chap out, sir? For all you know the general might ask for Tukaram's Handi Kulfi."

This was a cracker. A combined chortle ensued. Even the CO could relax a shade with a smile.

Maj. Gen Shardul Singh's fleet was spotted at a distance. We were ready to greet him.