24-03-2021, 05:58 AM
CHAPTER 2
The submarine was much, much bigger than I’d expected. Over four hundred feet long, I’d heard—but hearing it wasn’t the same as seeing it. The idea that something so big could move, let alone submerge, was difficult to accept. The conning tower rose above me like a small building. All I could do was sit there and gape through the windshield.
Nandini , meanwhile, had already jumped out and was deep in conversation with the captain, pointing to the sub and asking questions. I grabbed my flight case and hurried after her.
The way his hand had been on Nandini’s thigh still bothered me but, now that it was over, I could chalk it up to Indian sexism—it might not be a San Relando, but it still wasn’t exactly forward-thinking. We were out of the SUV and after this, we probably wouldn’t see the captain again for the rest of the trip. Besides, Nandini had called in a lot of favors to get us this gig and I wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize it. This film could be our best ever.
The submarine had once been the pride of the Vishakapatnam navy. It carried ICBMs once targeted at cities in the Pakistan, but rapidly looking outdated and irrelevant in today’s peaceful times. That’s why it was about to take its final trip. It was going on a four day voyage to a shipyard where its missiles would be removed and the sub itself would be decommissioned. The end of an era. A sad day for captain and crew. A massive, fascinating piece of Indian army hardware, soon to be gone forever. This voyage had it all…and we were there to capture it. For four days, we’d live alongside the sailors. Nandini would do interviews while showing the viewers the sub and, at the end of it all, we’d have hours of footage to cut together into a whole series of documentaries. This was going to be epic, in every sense of the word.
“We will go on board,” said the captain. “But I want to make it clear before we do: this is still a navy vessel for another four days. While you’re on board, you may be civilians but you will be under my command. Understood?”
I hesitated for a split second, thinking of that hand on Nandini’s thigh. But when I glanced at my wife, she gave me an encouraging smile. If she was willing to put with his attentions then I could, too.
“Understood, captain,” I said respectfully.
The captain took us aboard and showed us to our cabin. In every room and corridor we entered, the crew snapped to attention, men standing straight and tall, eyes fixed in front. It certainly didn’t feel like a submarine on its final mission—the crew were as orderly and respectful as if this was the maiden voyage. Captain Singh obviously ran a tight ship and, looking at him, I could see why the crew feared him. He had to duck to get through each door and almost turn sideways to get through them…and yet, strangely, I was the one who was awkward moving around, always narrowly avoiding banging my head. This was Singh’s home, I realized, every inch of it familiar. I was the interloper.
The submarine was much, much bigger than I’d expected. Over four hundred feet long, I’d heard—but hearing it wasn’t the same as seeing it. The idea that something so big could move, let alone submerge, was difficult to accept. The conning tower rose above me like a small building. All I could do was sit there and gape through the windshield.
Nandini , meanwhile, had already jumped out and was deep in conversation with the captain, pointing to the sub and asking questions. I grabbed my flight case and hurried after her.
The way his hand had been on Nandini’s thigh still bothered me but, now that it was over, I could chalk it up to Indian sexism—it might not be a San Relando, but it still wasn’t exactly forward-thinking. We were out of the SUV and after this, we probably wouldn’t see the captain again for the rest of the trip. Besides, Nandini had called in a lot of favors to get us this gig and I wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize it. This film could be our best ever.
The submarine had once been the pride of the Vishakapatnam navy. It carried ICBMs once targeted at cities in the Pakistan, but rapidly looking outdated and irrelevant in today’s peaceful times. That’s why it was about to take its final trip. It was going on a four day voyage to a shipyard where its missiles would be removed and the sub itself would be decommissioned. The end of an era. A sad day for captain and crew. A massive, fascinating piece of Indian army hardware, soon to be gone forever. This voyage had it all…and we were there to capture it. For four days, we’d live alongside the sailors. Nandini would do interviews while showing the viewers the sub and, at the end of it all, we’d have hours of footage to cut together into a whole series of documentaries. This was going to be epic, in every sense of the word.
“We will go on board,” said the captain. “But I want to make it clear before we do: this is still a navy vessel for another four days. While you’re on board, you may be civilians but you will be under my command. Understood?”
I hesitated for a split second, thinking of that hand on Nandini’s thigh. But when I glanced at my wife, she gave me an encouraging smile. If she was willing to put with his attentions then I could, too.
“Understood, captain,” I said respectfully.
The captain took us aboard and showed us to our cabin. In every room and corridor we entered, the crew snapped to attention, men standing straight and tall, eyes fixed in front. It certainly didn’t feel like a submarine on its final mission—the crew were as orderly and respectful as if this was the maiden voyage. Captain Singh obviously ran a tight ship and, looking at him, I could see why the crew feared him. He had to duck to get through each door and almost turn sideways to get through them…and yet, strangely, I was the one who was awkward moving around, always narrowly avoiding banging my head. This was Singh’s home, I realized, every inch of it familiar. I was the interloper.
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