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Another day in paradise

It was just another day… cold, windy, a white-out with temperatures touching minus 40 degrees C in Siachen.

Another day in paradise


V Ravi Shankar

It was just another day… cold, windy, a white-out with temperatures touching minus 40 degrees C in Siachen. A blanket of fog had covered everything, and visibility was hardly 20 metres. At the post, it was the same story — of duty changing every two hours. 

It was early 2000. There were 20 of us, two officers and 18 men, in a place of strategic importance. The steel PD (permanent defence) could keep out the enemy, but not the weather. The icy winds managed to blow inside through the parachute linings and filled everything with snow. 

Those were days of no mobiles, no fresh fruits or vegetables. We called home only after coming back to the base camp, after three-four months. Kerosene and a crackling radio set were our only solace. Kerosene because it was the only thing that did not freeze and the radio set which used to be our only link to the outside world (how much could you chat with one another over months!)

Since everything would freeze, all edibles were tinned, and they had to be ‘boiled’ to make it edible. It was under those circumstances that the radio used to be a constant companion. Occasionally, it would play Indian channels and sometimes the other side too. We used to listen to discussions, news, cricket commentary (we followed Yuvraj Singh’s debut match against Australia) for about seven-eight hours (those were not the days of T-20s) and the eagerly awaited ‘Forces Request’!

It played ‘Another Day in Paradise’ by Phil Collins. As I lay down, the jacket all zipped up after my duty, breathing softly, listening to the lyrics, with every breath condensing on the sleeping bag outer, my thoughts wandered to the posts ahead and across. 

Probably, someone, somewhere on the other side was just like me — young officer. We may never meet and at the same instant, he might also be listening to the same song. Probably, he may be going through the same emotions and penning down his thoughts; but at the slightest doubt, we will be training our guns on each other. 

Here we are, deployed at the highest battlefield, with our arms at the ready, to fire at the slightest provocation. But unknown to us, we are humans first and soldiers next and go through the same emotions. There is a higher power above all of us, but in our game of one-upmanship, when do we listen, or do we ever?

Circumstances have forced both sides to get deployed eyeball to eyeball. Nearly 20 years down the line, nothing has changed. Yes, technology has improved, but it is still costing both sides a pretty penny to maintain, but who cares for such things in an age of rhetoric, ego and jingoism?  Isn’t it time we change our destiny? Give up all this bloodshed and enjoy the real paradise? One wonders when it will happen, and if it might ever.

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