When I came to New Delhi for my civil service preparation, I
had only one place in mind to go from here which was Mussoorie. Duh, not for chilling dudes! Mussoorie, the
Queen of hills and which also is the home to the grooming institution of the brightest
of civil servants. Well all right, I did
manage to reach Mussoorie but unexpectedly to an altogether different world and
a different academy. A midst my civil service attempts, I had given the lesser
known CAPF exam also conducted by UPSC. And like others I was also enticed by
the prize which was at stake-a gazette post of the Government of India. Henry
Fayol listed “stability of tenure” as one of principles of management and
surely it attracts quality even to this date. The famous 14 principles at work!
So here I was all set for this unforeseen adventure that
would later prove to be very elemental to the way my perception of things would
shape up. As I reached the gates of ITBP I saw a couple of guys wandering
here and there and as confused as myself. We were looking for the premier institute of national
importance which trains the officers of ITBP and all we got was way way (the
repetition here being totally intentional!) under the mark. To add to the
misery, we had to take our luggage to our rooms by our own. Now this seems like
a not-that-difficult a proposition. But when you have to climb mountains with
that kind of weight, it becomes a little overwhelming. I was puzzled whether
all this was because of the mismanagement of the institution or it was all
intentional to acclimatize us for what was forthcoming. And as I write this, I still have no clue.
Perhaps no one has. But in adversities, there are avenues of becoming stronger. And this place was no different.
And hence I marched forward carrying about 40 kgs and
consoling myself that it was ok and perhaps other things will be in place and
of some standard. Yes, perhaps the accommodation would be awesome. Perhaps the
sporting facilities would be outstanding. Perhaps the gymnasium would be world-class.
And then I learnt the most important lesson of life, never to expect
anything in life. As I wandered in that jungle..err campus, I couldn’t find
anyone who would be able to tell me where I have to put up. Then I saw this partially bald guy dressed in
white who advised me to ‘adjust’ myself wherever I find space. He was quite
mature and seemed like he has been there for a while. Possibly he was one of
the instructors, I thought. In the next few days he always had ample stories to
tell us about ITBP and how this training experience was going to be a topsy-turvy
ride with an exhilarating pace. It took me a while to figure out that this guy
was one of us, a trainee. But then he turned out to be a really nice and supportive
guy to whom everyone would go when in shit. You know who I am talking about if
you belong to 20th AC Basic A/B batch!
So all set in the wilderness of the cold forests of
Mussoorie, we were excited and disgusted at the same time. The zero-week began.
The so called ‘initiation’ into a difficult daily physical regime. But it was
‘zero’ for just namesake. They made us run like mad dogs chasing cars for the
very first day. And I vividly recall that I have never used collectively so
many cuss words as I used on that morning doings push-ups on the spit-full
roads of Mussoorie (Almost felt like transforming to Virat Kohli!). To top
that, they made us run upto LBS NAA. There I was, physically drained and
emotionally screwed looking at the dream. Irony is a bitch!
Going a few steps
backwards, before entering the slaughter Academy, I was confident enough that I
would manage my preparation for mains while doing the training. I don’t know
what gave me that kind of confidence and that turned out to be a nightmare of a
choice. In a week I realized that I was loosing interest in geo-politics of
nations as my physics and biology were going for spin in this arduous and
grilling training session. Then I had a vision one night that these two things
cannot survive together. Choice has to be made.
Choice was made. I am not going deep into the shits I went through to
finally negotiate with the authorities to give me time to write mains and then
I can continue with ITBP after that. But it happened eventually. I am grateful to the officers who pursued the case and made it possible.
After writing my mains, I was back at the academy but more
as a guest this time as I awaited my posting to some battalion of ITBP. I had
all the time to read and write at leisure meanwhile the rest of batch was
undergoing severe stretches of physical endurance tests. To many it would seem
that I was having the time of my life but the truth is that it was awful, real
shit. To the extent of living in a jail. Without purpose, without direction.
But the trainees of 20th ‘B’ Batch had come very close to me and
that was the saving grace, you rock guys! I would listen to the instructor
bashing and all kinds of criticisms when they came back to the barrack. I
sympathized and thought wow my ass just got saved from all this! They were all
very supportive and I wish all of them all the best for everything. At the end, I would like to mention that even with the constrained resources, the commitment and determination of the training personnel stands out. You are surely creating tough, skilled and leader-like officers who would do great at the field level and make the country proud.
The next stop was 34th Battalion of ITBP, sahasi
chauttis, situated at a lowly place near the lowly town of Haldwani in the oh
so beautiful! district of Nainital. When
I was told about the established battalions
of the force, I was told that they are beautifully constructed over
nearly 100 acres of land with high class
accommodation and other infrastructure. And when I reached the place, it turned
out to be an unit in transition. The dry run continues for my life it seemed.
And this transition has been there for years. All it had were some unfurnished
semi-permanent huts for the offices and with rest of the force living in tents.
Looked more like a refugee camp where the host nation has decided to train the
refugees in combat and use it for its own benefit.
But then surprisingly, all that never bothered me after I
learnt more and more about the people there and the fraternity they share. As
soon as I reached the Officer’s Mess area, I got an idea that an Assistant
Commandant holds great value for the force personnel. Who would hate the idea
of people giving you so much of respect and attention, but it did feel awkward.
You get used to it eventually like every other thing in the world. Then I
called on all the senior officers and found that all of them are from a
generation above. That was discouraging at first but as I understood the
dynamics of a government workplace and the vast experience that they repeatedly
shared without hesitation, things improved and I got so absorbed that this
concern never really bothered me. I was blessed to have a wonderful, highly
experienced and welfare-oriented commandant (Sh. R.S.Vats), supportive seniors, wonderful colleagues (Dr. Dilip) and a highly
motivated battalion. It was only here that I truly understood the sacrifices made by our force personnel as they stay far off their social circles and are dedicated to protect and guard our country in the most difficult of terrains. The induction training really helped me a lot to
understand the problems of red tapism and other bureau-pathologies. This whole
experience of coming around to know how a force functions has been truly
enriching. People who work in the paramilitary and armed forces sacrifice a lot
in terms of social capital and hence they deserve to be treated with respect.
Respect to all those people working in forces.
Special thanks to all from AC Basic 20th A/B
batches.
Bye, ITBP. Jai Hind!
P.S. For the uninitiated, ITBP stands for Indo-Tibetan Border
force, a central armed police force which has the mandate of guarding the
Indo-Chna border and also Disaster Management. To know more...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indo-Tibetan_Border_Police
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indo-Tibetan_Border_Police
