The sun was a pale sliver on the horizon, spilling golden light over the jagged Himalayan peaks of the Rajouri–Poonch sector. Mist clung stubbornly to the valleys below, curling around rocky cliffs like ghostly serpents. Every ridge and every stone seemed alive—silent witnesses to centuries of secrets. Here, the world was raw and unyielding, a place where only the vigilant survived.
Perched on a narrow, windswept ridge sat a forward observation post, positioned dangerously close to the International Border. Home to roughly forty men—a mix of riflemen, machine gunners, and spotters—the post was little more than a cluster of stone bunkers and camouflaged towers. Snow drifted in uneven patches, crunching under the boots of sentries, while the bitter wind tore through the ridge with relentless force.
05:00 am Hours: The Wake‑Up Call
Inside the cramped barracks, the air was thick with the smell of woodsmoke and damp wool. As the digital clocks struck five, the soldiers began to stir. Some groaned, stretching their stiff limbs under heavy quilts.
"Maa kasam," one soldier muttered, rubbing his eyes. "There is no sleep like mountain sleep. If only the world would let a man lie in peace."
Virendra Rajput, the veteran Team Leader, sat up and began neatly folding his blanket despite a massive yawn that brought tears to his eyes. He glanced at two unmoving mounds in the corner. "Are Kashi and Vijay still snoring? Wake them up before the Sahab gets here!"
"Leave them, Sir," Mahesh whispered with a mischievous grin. "It's their turn for the morning surprise."
The barracks door creaked open. The soldiers snapped to attention as Lieutenant Husain Ali Khan entered, a galvanized bucket of ice‑cold meltwater in his hand.
"Soldiers!"
A second later, Captain Virendra Shrivastava followed him in. His calm eyes scanned the room—and then fixed on the two sleeping figures.
"Good," he said quietly. "Except for our two sleeping beauties."
Without hesitation, the bucket was upended.
Splash.
Kashi and Vijay leapt out of their blankets, gasping and shivering as laughter rippled through the barracks.
"Since you love your beds so much," Ali said dryly, "your training hours are doubled today."
---
The Grind: Training in the Death Zone
By 05:30, the men were out on the jagged ledge, the sky still bruised with dawn.
Warm‑Up:
"Stretching! Tempo high!" Ali barked. The soldiers moved in unison, boots scraping frozen rock.
"Aare Mori Maiya…" Kashi muttered. "Even my soul is freezing."
Ali grinned. "Then warm it up. Jumping jacks—go!"
Snow Run:
"Two kilometers!" the Captain ordered, taking the lead. Boots thundered against ice as breath turned to white smoke.
"When does this get easier?" Vijay wheezed.
"When you fall in love with the pain," Virendra replied.
Combat Sparring:
On the pads, bodies slammed into snow and slush.
"Go easy!" Jaspreet laughed after taking a hit. "My hands are numb!"
"Will you ask the enemy to go easy too?" came the reply as he was thrown flat.
The mountains watched in silence as men forged the
mselves into weapons.
---
"This is the stillness before the tempest unleashes..."
Steam rose from metal mugs as the soldiers gathered inside the mess‑shed, hands wrapped tightly around hot chai. For a few minutes, the war felt far away.
The field telephone rang.
Kashi picked it up, then smirked. "Captain Sahab... it's your son."
Captain Ali took the receiver. "Haan beta, bolo."
The tiny voice on the other end spoke with dramatic seriousness. "Papa... the cycle is finished. Tire went one way, chain went the other-and its mother has been thoroughly cursed."
Snickers broke out. Ali's glare silenced them instantly.
"Quiet," he snapped, before softening his voice for the call. "I'll see when I come home."
He hung up and turned to Kashi. "You enjoyed that? Double training. Alone."
Kashi's grin vanished.
Before another joke could follow, the thump‑thump‑thump of rotor blades shook the post. A helicopter hovered low as a man slid down the rope and dropped into the snow.
"Commander Subramanya Iyer," someone whispered.
The atmosphere hardened the moment he entered the briefing room.
"Attention."
A projector flickered on, revealing the image of a bearded man with a cruel grin.
"Naazim Shah Jinnah," Iyer said. "Smuggler. Terrorist. The cancer of this sector. Intelligence confirms he has taken control of a border village. Civilians are being used as human shields."
Silence.
"We have a problem," Iyer continued. "There is no clearance to cross the perimeter. Politics is delaying action."
Kashi stood, all humor gone. "Sir, if we wait, people die. Then this uniform means nothing."
"I'm with him," Vijay said.
One by one, the men rose.
Commander Iyer looked at them for a long moment. Pride softened his stern face.
"Our flag does not fly because of the wind," he said quietly. "It flies on the last breath of soldiers who protect it."
He straightened. "Prepare yourselves. We fight if we must. Bharat Mata ki Jai."
"JAI!"
The mountains echoed the roar.
"Upcoming - First Intel/ Briefing "