Undefeated

                                      

It is a cold Wednesday morning with no sign of the sun. The clouds are wandering in the mountains. Heady scent of lilac fills the Uttarakhand air. The beautiful lilac tumbling over the garden walls, hanging like bunches of grapes, seems to accentuate my gloomy mood. Beauty and Beast, his four year old labradors, sit at my feet on the wooden floor, bury their wet noses as if nudging me to cheer me up. I finally muster the courage to read the letter kept neatly on my side table. My fingers tremble, as they hamstring my ability to open his letter.

In this age of modernisation when the technology is on our side, and the world has forgotten the feeling of carefully opening a letter to not hurt its contents. I gently unravel his letter. Beauty climbs up on my lap for moral support, and the Beast carefully fixates his gaze on me.

It's crazy how only a month ago, Captain Anvay Dalvi was standing there in his well furnished drawing room. Anvay joked that he had suggested his course-mate to make Morphine out of the humungous garden of poppies in his MESS. All of a sudden, he decided to cut to the chase. His eyes were brimming with excitement as he sheepishly spelt out that he was all set to leave for Siachen.
Rattled by his sudden free throw to sandbag me, I blurted out - "Do you even know, why Siachen is called 'Siachen' ?".
He shot me an annoying self righteous glance, cleared his throat and replied "No".
He smirked and continued -  "All I know, is that getting my facts straight would be easier than breaking into Fort Knox! So to speak". I roll my eyes and retort, "Siachen glacier is named after the pink sia blossoms, that bloom across Ladakh in summer months. With no roses actually blooming in the second longest glacier in the world."
He looked at me intently and I tried to stay somber with my tone in order to put forth an argument in a no-win situation as,
"I understand that you're captivated by the mesmerising beauty that Siachen holds. Your secret longing to see the world from the summit of the highest battlefield on planet Earth is justified. But you need to consider some exquisitely documented pieces of knowledge, like during the American Civil War, the stress associated with war was called Home sickness. During World War One, it was shell shock. After World War II, it was battle fatigue. I know Siachen is not always at war but it's nothing close to safe as well." I was interrupted when he shrieked - "Take the drama down a notch, Juliet!", He had more than a few quips up his sleeve.
Managing a quick recovery and thinking on my feet I said - "I realise there's more to you than your handsome face, crew cut hair and aviators. Moreover, Siachen is more than just the battlefield on the roof of the world. It might come out as a shock but the people who are willing to sacrifice their lives for their country, marketing it as a lifestyle also experience anxiety and vulnerability before deployment. The undulating emotions of physically hurting or killing opponent soldiers, destroying hostile forces, grieving the deaths of your fellow mates results in severe mental stress. Moreover the duty towards nation deprives you of opportunities to reach out to your loved ones and share your struggles and insecurities. Carrying out surreptitious operations, where the weather is your worst enemy demands a whole new level of psyche!" I stop to look at him, only to find him unbelievably suave enough to be on the cover of Vogue. I surrender and declare, "I know you're ready for it." I drew in a deep breath and added, "I know what 'Living a life less ordinary' means to you. I would never want to weigh you down with my fears. Don't forget, I'm Ted Mosby and drawing pros and cons in every situation is my forte." I rested my case, shrugged and painstakingly managed to paste a smile.
"I know, you know! Maybe that is your niche but do you know why the Army decided to send us there...because we can get the job done and if we can, we will fucking get the job done.", he growled.
I threw my hands in the air in frustration and got to work by telling him about the Stages of Acclimatisation, Drugs used to help acclimatisation, Warning signs of dehydration, Acclimatisation schedules and I ended it all by quoting the Siachen motto, "Quartered In Snow
Silenced To Remain
When The Bugle Calls
They Will Rise 
And March Again."
"I thought you were a lover and not a fighter.", he let a devious smile escape his lips.
"Well, I'm both. I've got layers.", I replied. I finally had a witty comeback even though it was a pyrrhic victory.
He started singing Jon Bellion's, 'Conversations with my future wife'. I joined in on the line that says, 'Will you love me when my phone turns off...'
In a fraction of a second, we rolled on the floor, laughed and then held hands because the lyrics were heartbreakingly true and it was quick to sink in.

I transcend back to the present and try to decipher Anvay's horrible handwriting which had been worsened due to the biting cold. It read:
"Dearest Radhika, 
I hope this letter finds you in rainbow colors.
At first sight, Siachen is awe-inspiring beyond belief. Life here, with all fears we carry, coupled with the eerie remoteness, the cold and discomfort up high, makes me appreciate the good things at Base Camp like never before. The thought of calling back home or the prospect of a hot home cooked meal in a comfortable bed seem like a luxury of the past. Never thought I'd count my bathroom as a blessing because our toilets are pretty primitive here; generally just a hole in the floor inside a tiny and cozy FRP. Plenty of "misfires" ensure the floor around the hole is well soiled. Being at 20,000 feet, it's excruciating to hold one's breath for very long. Moreover the nausea set in due to the high altitude doesn't give you time to feel disgusted and even if you try pushing yourself, you're knocked out of your senses in no time. Life's pretty much like minesweeper, you step on a thin piece of ice and poof! You're down a hundred feet. As I'm good at spectator sports, the first thing I observed was...Set at a safe distance from camp, the green oxygen cylinders are stored, racked like artillery shells in preparation to bombard peripheral posts. The RMO here, Captain Amish Gunn, is a jovial person and surprisingly a combat enthusiast. Also I shamelessly tested his knowledge during our initial encounters at the base camp, according to everything you had briefed me about before leaving. After a careful history of drug allergy, he asked us to take Acetazolamide, 125 mg before the climb and it worked wonders preventing us from from the harsh symptoms of mountain sickness. He gave us medical supplies containing elastoplast dressings, a bandage, some antiseptic ointments, sunscreen and a few pills. Most importantly he labelled the pills for me. I happened to gush about you, over a drink with Amish. He got overzealous and made sure to prove his competence after that. So I have been carrying, I'll quote you, "Trental for frost bite and Cyclopentolate drops for snow blindness. Devil's in the details." 
You would be happy to know that Captain Gunn and I, are pally, he talks about the Micro atmosphere Siachen has created due to some gravitational pull and I tell him about Direct Emission Weapons. I can't tell you how much I miss you when the know-it-all doctor propensity dominates the chats in our testosterone charged posts. It's hilarious to find all the officers and troops sitting there cross eyed failing to grasp the doctor's medical innuendos.
Although we're always under the gun but I still made new friends here, Rinchi, Loa and Gimshik, our porters, who help us to navigate by feel when the visibility is horrendous. Everything looks the same, the snow covered slope and the black sky.
Sometimes we all get to share a cup of hot tea supplied by post members and we take in every sip, thinking it could be our last while kneeling over sharp rocks amidst heavy wind blasting us with debris.
Some days, we plow on foot uphill. The wind pushes upto 70 miles per hour and when my neck gaiter slips below my goggles, the wind feels like pins and needles on my face... my face goes numb. At that very moment I telepathically crave to thank you for a thousand kisses that I still feel on my face.
Now that I get to crouch on it, I see Siachen in a different light. The mountain still holds me entranced. The challenge, the beauty, the simplicity of this extraordinary place has irresistibly drawn wishful soldiers and I still burn with passion when I talk of it.
There hasn't been a day when I haven't thought of you. I love you, Radhika. I hope you're taking care of yourself and that Beauty and Beast are not taking a toll on you. I hope you're studying hard enough to save yourself from getting beaten up. Just kidding. You make me proud. I'm extemely sorry that I missed your graduation but I promise to make it up to you when I get back. Service before Self, remember? Can't wait for you to join the Armed Forces, so you would quote this too.
Love, 
Anvay"
I giggle through the tears as I meticulously fold his letter and keep it between the pages of my Davidson: Textbook of Medicine. Then I gingerly get to pen down a letter...to send my love back to Siachen hoping that it'll find him warm and safe.