It was a bone-jarring experience. Everything shook inside the rickety bus the window panes, seats, luggage, even the passengers. The only thing that did not move fast enough was the bus itself. It took us more than 10 hours to reach Dehradun from Delhi's Shastri Bhawan, a journey that would normally take five hours. The bus was scheduled to depart at 9.30 am sharp.There were bleary-eyed journalists on board: Men and women who had woken up much before their usual wake-up time, missed breakfast, rushed to Shastri Bh-awan. Little did we know the bus would leave an hour late.By the time we reached IMA, Dehradun, we were completely exhausted. The press briefing was over. Wonder who attended it. The cultural programmes were also over. There were not many cadets around. Most of them had retired to their cabins along with their parents.Disappointed at the turn of events, we slipped into our rooms in the army cadets hostel. Crib, crib and crib some more is all we did in our rooms, complaining about thethings we had to go through and the time ahead. Little did we know we were in for a surprise, a very pleasant one at that.The next morning was different, completely different from the hopeless busride, the exhaustion and the cribbing. Around 4 am, we were woken up by some voices outside. We peeped out of our windows, to see groups of shivering cadets asking the canteen boy for tea.It was dark and bitterly cold. But the 20-year-olds did not care. Inspired by the gentleman cadets -that's what the men undergoing military training are called at IMA we decided to leave our cosy beds and move out of our rooms. The army cadets, dressed in vests, were sharing half-filled buckets of lukewarm water for their bath. And, there we were shivering under layers of woollens.Within no time, the cadets were ready for their warm-up drill. Dressed in smart navy blue uniforms and shining boots, they were marching up and down the pathway facing the Chetwode Hall. Though the sun was yet to come out, the sheer enthusiasmof the handsome cadets radiated warmth. There was no breakfast for us but we no longer cared. The cadets' spirit had taken over us.We watched the cadets do their warm-up exercises and chatted up some of them. Amongst them were officers who boasted that they had managed to bag a Siachen posting. There were others who were going to Kargil, Drass and Leh. The newly commissioned officers were excited about fighting the enemy lurking across the border, climbing mountains, surviving at sub-zero temperatures in inhospitable terrain, handling the Bofors guns and defending the country's borders. The young men spoke of wars their seniors at IMA had fought, the tradition of the army and the ultimate sacrifice for the country.It was incredible! It was difficult to believe that these men were in their early 20s, had graduated from college not more than an year ago, and were now raring to go, to look at the enemy in the face. They had spent about a year at the military academy and it had changed everything, made allthe difference. From the fancy world of a college student, where movies, dates and trendy clothes are the most talked-about things, these men had moved on to a world where facing bullets and hunting down the enemy had become more interesting.Finally, when they marched in a spectacular parade, their hands swaying in the air and chests swelling with pride, just one thing seemed certain: These young men will add the all-important human touch to the cold mountains where they will be posted. Their unbeatable enthusiasm will inspire them to fight the elements like never before.On our return journey to Delhi, no one complained about anything. All the cribbing had been put to rest by the young officers.
