Ravinder Upadhyay, 30, never had a penchant for handlebar moustaches but members in his contingent did. He chose to grow one a year ago, when he was posted to the Border Security Force's Camel Corps. The moustache wasn't the only challenge—most of his colleagues are from Rajasthan, Upadhyay is from Bihar. "The Rajasthanis have camels at home, they are comfortable with the animal. Not only did the camel frighten me, the reins did too," he says as he walks up to Raju, Camel No 24.
Upadhyay, along with 200 men from the BSF, have been in Delhi for two months rehearsing for the Republic Day parade. Their day starts at 4 a.m. A discreet gate on Palam Road opens into a ground. Here, the bonfires cast exaggerated shadows as the camels lie motionless, tethered to a pole dug into the dirt.
A toothbrush in his hand, Upadhyay nudges Raju. It is nearing
4.30 a.m. Raju ignores his master at first and then, suddenly jolts to his feet, hooves digging into the dust. He lets out a gnarl for being woken up but the animal has to rise when its master does. Upadhyay fills a steel tub with fodder—"the camel must eat first", he says.
For the last two months, the ground and its 60 tents, each with strikingly colourful Bandhini cloth as canopy, have been home to the BSF men who arrived from Jodhpur to perform at the Republic Day parade. The parade rehearsal is hard work, but it is a break from the routine of the barracks.
Mornings start with a puja. The contingent assembles at the temple, the largest tent in the ground and breaks into a devotional song. Some sing louder than the others. Like Jagdish Prasad, a constable, who says later that he wanted to be a singer. He stands in the front row and his voice fills the tent. By the end of the puja, the men, all dressed in khaki, are united by another colour—a red tika on their forehead.
After the puja, the soldiers move out in a file, not a word is spoken. They mechanically walk up to the animals, untie the knot that holds them in place. Camels are timid, gentle and docile but "the winter months are when they are in heat—they are prone to getting nervous," says Upadhay.
Upadhyay tries to saddle the camel, but the animal resists. He fills the camel's tub with water and after it has had a drink, finally puts the saddle in place and underneath it, a red cloth. Another shade of red amongst the khaki uniforms, the white tents and mud below. Ninety-two camels gallop to the far end of the ground. They fall in line, kicking up mushrooms of dust. Each rider has his designated space.
It's 6.15 a.m. and the contingent of 92 camels sets off to South Block—a journey that will take them an hour and a half. Some of the men ride their camels, while members of the contingent's musical band board a bus that'll follow the camels.
The journey to the parade is as important as the parade itself. Amol Singh Rathore is the deputy commandant and the man in charge today. So he gets to carry a walkie-talkie and lead the journey on his camel. The only other person who has a wireless is the man on the last camel—"that helps us coordinate with each other and the rest of the team," says Rathore.
The march begins, three in a row, taking up the width of the bus lane—it's a steady pace. Sunlight breaks through the early morning chill, the Metro station at Dhaula Kuan comes to life, cars and buses take to the streets. The only trouble to the troupe is the motorcyclists who come dangerously close to the camels. "We tower over the buses. They are no hassle, but the motorcyclists are another matter," says Rathore, the commander.
A schoolgirl opposite the President's Estate waves to the contingent. The roads come to life and some of the BSF personnel in the bus get off to march alongside the camels.
At 7.30 a.m., the contingent reaches Vijay Chowk. They will be here for the next two-and-a-half hours, waiting for their turn to rehearse on the Rajpath stretch. The Camel Corps shed their woolen caps and the animals languidly slump onto the lawns, breathing out swirls of mist. The Insas rifles are stashed against the terracotta wall.
Upadhyay finds a spot under a tree and brings Raju a loaf of bread. He's not afraid of the animal anymore, but he has other worries. "I'm used to him now. But they say motorised battalions will take their place. Will I have to learn that too?" he asks.
IndianExpress