At the entrance to the cadets’ mess at the National Defence Academy in Khadakwasla, Pune, a table for one is set meticulously for every meal. The chair is tilted forward. The candle on the table is unlit. On the bread plate is a slice of lemon, a reminder of the bitterness of fate. There is salt on the plate, symbolising tears. The glass is inverted.
The soldier for whom the table has been set couldn’t make it for the meal. But his comrades have reserved his place for whenever — if ever — he does. A plaque nearby bears the