Mechanical Engineering as an optional subject

[This is what was conceived as a serious "technical" piece - kindly refrain for searching for jokes in here!]

( For General Studies - and general preparation - a complementary article.)

This is in response to many readers’ and friends’ demand. Many people have, in the past, asked me about the absence of any ‘tips and guidelines’ article on this blog. It is generally expected of people who clear this examination to take to the pulpit and preach. I had avoided doing so for three simple reasons. For one, I am not really very sure of what exactly was done so right by me this time that warranted this result (as opposed to the not so good results of last two times – though I do have some guesses, which I shall reveal later in this piece). Secondly, I am very much sure that all said and done, luck plays a very important role in this examination – in technical language, a good preparation is a necessary but not a sufficient condition. Thirdly, the whole business of preparing for an examination has to be a very personalized process. The whole concept of coaching and a sort of ‘assembly line preparation’ does not appeal to me, and neither is it liked by the Commission, who seem to be determined to eradicate the whole business by the recent ‘revolutionary papers’. Yet, I have been told by many to pen down something in this direction, and hence, today I attempt to do so – and believe me, it is almost as difficult as attempting those innovative GS questions.

Since I have taken upon this task of writing about the preparation for this exam, I also exercise the prerogative to limit myself to writing about Mechanical Engineering. There are infinitely better sources to learn about General Studies, Economics optional and Essay preparations. Many readers, and Facebook friends had complained that while successful candidates in other optionals had put forth their thoughts, I had not done so for Mechanical Engineering. So, taking all this to the logical conclusion, here it goes.

First of all, let us discuss the viability of Mechanical Engineering as an optional subject for the examination. I am not getting into the whole humanities vs sciences debate, but I must say that as a fresh start subject, it can be very tiresome and lengthy. Though I’ve had a very fruitful relationship with the subject, it is also a fact that many Mechanical Engineers avoid taking it as an optional, and do very well with any of the humanities and literature optionals. So, before taking the plunge with this optional, it would be better to check if you belong to any of these categories –

1. 1.       Actively involved in studies of Mechanical Engineering – PG, Research, preparation for GATE, Engineering Services Examination.
2. 2.       Generally in love with the subjects constituting Mechanical Engineering.
3. 3.       In a job that does not give much time for taking on two optionals at a time, and hence having an inclination for an optional with which one is somewhat familiar, and which can be prepared with some final bursts of effort.

There may be other categories of people who may take this subject as an optional. However, I find it most pertinent for these three categories – first two positively and the last negatively. Yours truly was somewhat in category 2 and very much in category 3. All I want to say that if you are not in these categories, it might be a better investment to take some other optional – which may give much more ‘bang for the buck’ effortwise.

Coming to the next part, many friends have been asking me about the books that I consulted and read. I must put it down, very humbly, that I read most of the common books that are prescribed in many of the engineering courses across the nation. A subject wise list follows:

• Mechanics of Rigid Bodies – No particular book – questions are of the same nature as asked in the engineering entrance examinations, and are of much simpler level – may use any XI standard book on Mechanics (Arihant etc.)
• Mechanics of Deformable Bodies – B.C.Punmia (Mechanics of Materials) (many also recommend Sadhu Singh)
• Engineering Materials – Relevant chapters of the book on Manufacturing by E.Paul De Garmo (many recommend V.Raghavan)
• Theory of Machines – S.S.Rattan (Sharma and Aggarwal for Machine Design)
• Manufacturing Processes – E.Paul De Garmo (some inputs from Hazra Chowdhary as well)
• Manufacturing Management – E.Paul De Garmo, various “free view” snippets from Google books*
• Thermodynamics – P.K.Nag
• Gas Dynamics & Turbines – S.M.Yahya
• Heat Transfer – J.P.Holman
• I.C.Engines – Mathur & Sharma (Ganeshan, or Obert might be as useful)
• Steam Engineering – P.K.Nag
• RAC – C.P.Arora

*It need not be told that many of the topics may not be found in the books mentioned above. For such cases, the Internet comes to the readers’ rescue. The best way is to search for the topic on Google books. Often, if it comes under the search results, the given chapter is free for viewing, and one may read from the screen. Or, one may review which book has the best content, and then proceed to buy the book. However, it would be seen that different chapters are better explained in different books – and hence, reading on screen and then preparing notes / crash notes would be a better option.

**It also needs to be doubly clarified that this is in no way supposed to be an endorsement of these books (except, may be, of the De Garmo one) – it’s just that I happened to read these books.

In addition to these, there is a wonderful repository of online material at the NPTEL website– it is a collection of lectures – both PDF and videos – prepared by the esteemed faculty of various IITs. If a topic is available on NPTEL, it is best read from NPTEL, for no book can match the conciseness and clarity of these lectures.

Another important thing which may help a person, who has chosen this path, where a minimum of 8 books (some of them are really big – the E.Paul De Garmo book can be used as a weapon if thrown at somebody!) need to be read, is the preparation of notes. Notes should be prepared only when a topic has been properly understood – and should be in one’s own words. And, most importantly, notes should be very brief. It’s no point making notes which are as unwieldy as the books. A perfect set of notes should contain information enough to help a well prepared mind “recall”, and it should be as low in volume as possible. It has two benefits – there is no other humanly possible way to revise the whole syllabus in a day or two – which is all one might get in the middle of the Mains; and, by making the whole syllabus visible in a few pages, this exercise gives one’s confidence a boost. I made a set of very compact notes, noted alongside the syllabus itself. It gave an additional advantage – almost nothing out of the syllabus was left unread. (covering the whole syllabus is very important –it often happens that the easier questions are from the most ‘backwaters’ of the topics in the syllabus, which one might be tempted to gloss over. This was one thing that I did stick to, quite scrupulously, in this attempt.) For the want of a better term, I called them ‘Crash Notes’. I am posting a link of the same – while the language and terminology used may not be very intelligible to anyone else but me (since these notes were made for my benefit), these scans might give some idea about what to do. The Mechanical Engineering notes are marked with ‘Mech’.

Finally, coming to the execution part in the paper itself, I had two observations, which, according to me, were somewhat instrumental in fetching good scores in the subject. In fact, these two things were also done for the first time by me in this attempt, and they led to a phenomenal increase in the portion of the paper attempted, and hence, maybe, consequentially, the marks attained. These were:

1. 1.     Not getting too stuck on a troublesome question. The worst thing one can do in this era of very long papers is to try a question for too long, as I had discovered, to my peril, in my last attempt. This time, I left many questions midway – as soon as they “went sticky”. The power of human subconscious was obvious, as when I returned to those questions later, after an hour or so, I was able to solve many of them, without wasting much time on actively thinking about them. It was much like sleeping over a problem. (Disclaimer- Readers may try this in mock papers before taking this technique to the Mains exam hall. It worked for me, but it is not some proven and tested psychological tool; so desist from coming back to sue the undies off me!)
2. 2.       Going for the ‘theoretical’ questions rather than the numerical ones. Whenever I had a choice, I went for the theory questions. I know that attempting theory questions is considered somewhat ‘unmanly’ by many Mechanical Engineers, but it can be a lifesaver in long papers, for the following reasons-

a.       Theory questions have definite answers that one knows for sure. Once attempted, it is a confirmed receipt of 7/8 out of 10 marks. Numericals, on the other hand, are “10 or nothing” gambles.

b.      Theory questions can be shortened under pressure. One can go from detailed explanations to bullet point answers given the situation and the time crunch. However, a gas turbine numerical will be solved in 2-3 pages only, and it does not care for the fact that you have only 5 minutes left on the clock.

These are my two cents on this whole topic of preparing Mechanical Engineering as an optional subject. Hope it helps those who needed help. Please don’t laugh; it was as hard for me to write this one as it was for you to read it!

Some other blog posts (not related to preparation)

Bharat Darshan - Part 1  Part 2  Part 3
The Price of Transparency
"If we wanted applause, we would have joined the circus!"
With Great Power comes Greater Arrogance?
Ignorance is bliss?
The Men who Ruled India

A Beginners' Course in Humility

When we had joined here, one senior member of the faculty, and a senior officer in his own right, had mentioned – “Many of you might be wondering ‘how the hell did I get in here’. Wait for a few weeks, and you’ll be wondering ‘how the hell did they get in here’!” Well, the weeks have passed, and yet, at the core of one’s core, the original wonderment remains unchanged. If anything, one’s respect for one’s fellow sufferers has increased as the weeks have progressed.

To begin with, the Academy has had a big role to play in this ‘belittlement of the self’! The Course is like a never ending sequence of events which bring out and highlight all the obvious and subtle sets of qualities that one does not possess, bringing one to a fuller appreciation of the extent of one’s inabilities. Someday it is a trek – to make one realize one is rather inept at walking and climbing up and down pebbly slopes. The other day, it is a poetry recital – to drive home the point that one is totally ill equipped for penning beautiful verses. Then, they take you to climb up and rappel down the cliffs, or to row one’s raft over the rapids – to elucidate the how far does a human heart resemble a chicken’s. Finally, there are “cultural evenings”, that brings to light the fact that one is neither a singer, nor a dancer, nor an actor. Ah, nothing like this course to serve as a lesson in humility.

It’s not that the classrooms are any better than the fields. In the Law class, one shares the room with 2 ex-Judges and 1 Columbia Law grad! Some of the instructors get worried about speaking too much about Law in their presence, lest they provoke the wrath of Their Honours! When it comes to Economics, we have a handful of post graduates from the London School of Economics (well, that may have been a source of much mirth and derision for Sir Humphrey Appleby and Sir Bernard Woolley of Oxford, but for me, that is nothing less than the scriptural virgin birth!) One is surrounded by scores of IIT grads, who often mistake one for one of their ilk, and try to include one in their IIT-lingo talks, which can lead to much awkwardness. No, they are not being stupid, it’s just the fact that IIT-ians are so ubiquitous in this place. Then, in the language class, (and sometimes at a grubby roadside eatery on a late, unshaven Sunday morning), one gets a chance to sit adjacent to, and converse with, a qualified neurosurgeon from AIIMS. In the past one month, I’ve read an article that uses Mathematics and Economics (the subjects that I, never really understood and half understood, respectively) to do a humourous take on the existence of God. Then, I’ve read, and listened to Hindi poems dripping in all rasas – the veer ones match, and dare I say, even surpass Dinkar, while the haasya ones can put the Chaturvedis and Joshis to shame – don’t just take it on face value – just pick up and read a copy of the Academy news letter.   Enough to set one wondering what the hell has one been doing all one’s life!

Height has always been a touchy issue for most people – and I, at 5’ 8” and a half (a very vital half), had always considered myself to be adequately blessed. That was till I joined in here. From the beginning of this course I had an awkward feeling of being looked down upon. To my ultimate horror, I realised, last week, the extent of this declination. For some (more) unnatural (than before) set of calisthenics in the morning, we were asked to line up height wise. In a group of 16, there were 3 ladies, then a guy, and then there was me! (The unfortunate guy was my roomie, and we joked about it – we joke about a lot of our life here, which itself is beginning to look like a long, uninspiring joke) Put in probabilistic terms, 68 % of the people here, and 84 % of the male people here, are taller than one. It looks like a straight lift from Geri Halliwell’s “It’s raining men” – “..tall, blonde, dark and mean; rough and tough and strong and lean…” That’s enough to put one properly in one’s place, as the runt of the lot.

If the menfolk have been hostile by being too ‘Adonistic’, the womenfolk have contributed in equal measure. In my last article, I had written about the feisty ladies who climbed the Dharwadhar with us. Then, there was one who climbed a 25 metre vertical cliff, with bare hands, in 3 minutes flat! One could hardly believe one’s eyes, but then, the soul was rather familiar with this feeling! There are some who can jog around the town and back in an hour, and still appear shower fresh, while one takes on an appearance of someone mauled by a bear in walking half the distance. And then, there are some, who, when armed with a tennis racquet or a basketball, can really humiliate one in those ‘compulsory’ games classes!

All this sets one to wonder – how does one go about one’s business in this stomping grounds of Goliaths, where one is subjected, almost daily, to what has been described by Douglas Adams as the most torturous punishment in the Universe – the Total Perspective Vortex (for the uninitiated, it is a device, which ”… compares the incredibly small size of the person to the enormous size of the universe. It shows him the size of the "entire unimaginable infinity of creation" along with a tiny little marker that says, "You are here." ”). Well, simply by following the path shown by none other than Adams himself – the way Zaphod Beeblebrox survived the TPV (again, for the uninitiated, “…..The reason for Zaphod Beeblebrox’s survival was actually quite simple; he had a large ego. In fact, his ego was so large it was the size of the universe. He actually thought he was the most important person in the universe. As a result, he didn’t see himself as being insignificant in comparison to the gigantic universe. The immense size of the universe didn’t overwhelm him or make him feel hopelessly lost…”) And so, we say, that despite the chasms deep and wide, between them all and one, chasms in ability, chasms in accomplishments, may be even chasms in aptitude, one is here, rubbing one’s shoulders with them (we are not going into the details of whether one’s shoulders rub against their shoulders or their knees!), and there in lies the key to eking out a survival.

Heaven, Hell and Back - a Trek Diary

Introduction

Don’t be fooled by the smiling faces in the photographs. Smiling when faced with a camera is a conditioned response that we have learned in all these years of living. Time will gradually erode and erase the harsher memories, leaving just these fake smiles in its wake. We are already witnessing rose tinted observations about the whole episode from my colleagues. So before time ‘obliviates’ me too, I must pen down my journal.

Just the way the Great War (the First World War) was a ‘war to end all wars’, this was a ‘trek to end all treks’ – for too long, Saturdays had been murdered on the altars of arbitrary ‘short treks’. So, despite it being a daunting task, one took it in the spirit of good riddance. Just how wrong could one be!

Run through

Two days in advance of the departure, the motley crew met. Hardly anyone knew anyone else, but everybody knew that they better knew everyone better, because it would decide, for better or worse, whether their coming week would be better or worse than anyone else’s.

One day in advance, the whole swarm descended on the Mussoorie town like a plague of locusts, cleaning out the shops of chocolates, medicines, sunscreens, snake oil, anything that would help one survive. The shopkeepers had a rocking time – one was able to pass off pathetic Nixon market shoes as trekking boots, at two grands ! The crowd outside his shop was a sight to behold. On return from the town, it was a race against the time to get everything packed well, while at the same time being mindful of the fact that the load was to be borne by one’s own backbone. Never was there a more straightforward problem of optimization put up to an engineer. It took its toll in time, and it was a pretty late sleep.

On the day of the departure, we rose early and came to know of the enormity of the task, while lugging the rucksack to the boarding point. The departure was smooth. The road too was smooth, till we exited the Municipal limits and started on the Surkunda – Dhanaulti route. As the road went from smooth to patchy, to rough and finally to non-existent, we discovered that the bus had no suspension to speak of. Then on, it was a desperate battle by the soul to cling on to the body, as the bus tried with all its might to shake it off. We passed the legendary Tehri lake and the new town – the lake was a beautiful sight, at least to us outsiders. We dined at Uttarkashi, the district headquarters of the various venues of our trials and tribulations for the next week. We continued with the jarring bus ride through the afternoon – when temperatures dropped in the evening, we sang our way through. We touched Harshil town by around 7:30, and there was another lugging of rucksacks to the rest house on the other bank of the Bhagirathi.

In retrospect, it was one of the most beautiful places we went to. Decently sized rooms, good facilities, a green backyard, a rushing Bhagirathi just beyond the fence. It would have been nice to stay there for a couple of days, but unfortunately, that was not meant to be. So after a sputtering attempt to start a round of dumb charades, followed by a nice hot meal, we had to sleep, to rise early in the morning and take the bus to Gangotri. It was the last ‘town’ on the journey, and we set off on foot for Bhojwasa, somewhere between 14 to 16 km uphill. For reasons innumerable, we discovered that from 10 in the morning to 5 in the evening, we could cover only the first 9 kilometres. Hence, after a very expensive tea halt at Cheedwasa, we had to trek under torch and moonlight, on a very rocky and treacherous terrain, much to the amazement and horror of Group 3, which had already appreciated the difficulty of the terrain in broad daylight. It was lucky that under threat of a freezing death or a breaking fall, the group suddenly discovered its adrenaline reserves. We moved in a train, and reached destination around 8 or so. It was a matter of minutes before the belongings were flung into a freezing tent, and we went on to dine and sleep off.

On the ascent towards Gaumukh, hypoxia hit with all its viciousness. So it was a pleasant rest at Bhojwasa, and when the hardier souls returned, we had quite a time doing just plain old heart to heart. The descent to Gangotri the next day was largely uneventful, except for the fact that we had been cleaned out of all our money by the hefty bill at Bhojwasa, and our night halt for the present day had been washed out in the flash floods. So we steered our bus to Uttarkashi town. To make matters worse, all ATM’s were out, and all impending bills appeared unpayable. It was the sheer genius of our mates that they found a small place which put us up at 100 bucks apiece. Then we wandered across the town to get some supper. Many were in the favour of giving up. The next morning, a sequestered ATM had to be forced open before time, and thus the cash problem was solved.

For the next three days it was one continuous climb from 1000 m to 4200 m. Since flashfloods had also wiped out our drop spot, we had to trek 8 extra kilometres, followed by a steep climb of 5 more, which, at one point, saw us dangling from tree branches to avoid putting our weight on sliding hill face, to get to the forest rest house at Agora(~2000m). Nothing special about the place, except that it was beautiful, and very small – 5 of us, yours truly included, had to spread the sleeping bags in the porch. Next day, early morning, after some of best aloo pranthas in the world had been devoured, we resumed on a 17 km climb to Dodital(~3000m), known by some to be the birthplace of Lord Ganesha. This was supposed to be easy, but since we had been told it was easy, we did not find it so. Still, we had enough time to click pictures on the banks of the Dodital, enjoy hot Maggi, dance around a bonfire and play another round of dumb charades. It got really freezing by the night, and we bid an early nightout.

The next was the D-Day of the trek – the assault on Dharwadhar. We had been told it would be tough, so we were thinking we were mentally prepared for it. Some logistics troubles delayed our start from 6 am to 7:15 am. And then it hit us.

The amazing thing about this trek was the sheer suddenness with which the troubles began – we were walking on the rocky river bed, and suddenly came these huge rocks, which we had to cross, climbing on all fours, descending gingerly, and repeating the same. Many slipped and got drenched in icy cold river water. After about an hour or so, this rocky nightmare was over. It was then that we hit the steep ascent. Just mind numbing, interminable climb at more than 60 degrees. This went on for 4 hours. We lost time because one mate lost the use of his knees. One of the doctors in the group had to fabricate an exoskeleton out of wood for his benefit – luckily I had my swiss knife at hand. Then the poor fellow had to be dragged along for a while before the mules could be arranged for him to ride on. It was only by noon that we reached the top of the ridge – our lunch, pooris, had turned into razors in the dry cold. From then on, it was a series of ascents and descents on smooth, treeless grasslands. In another location, it would have been a walk in the park. At an elevation of 4200-4300 m, people were doubling over with hypoxia. I was lucky to avoid it, since I had been knocked flat at even lesser altitude. This went on till the sun was ready to go down. It was then that we saw ‘the camp’ – a couple of tents on a very distant hill. It did give some strength to the weary limbs, and our pace quickened. However, 2 hrs later, after sundown, we were still nowhere near the camp. Radio contact was made with the camp people, who were equally clueless. The rarefied air and the complete absence of electricity made the night sky a lot more vivid. For the first time in 8 yrs, I saw the Milky Way clearly, and we were able to recognize many constellations. Unfortunately, as it always had been during this trek, we had no time for aesthetic appreciation. The ‘rescue party’ (a few cooks from the camp who were just pissed off to be there and were in a hurry to get back) had arrived, and had informed that we were 3 hrs away from the camp. If there was a worse time to spread a rumour like that, I am yet to learn of it. All order broke down, and in complete neglect of the disabled / slow movers, all started charging on. This was egged on by the ‘rescue party’, who were just itching to return. I stumbled on one of the stones, rolled off the ledge like path, down the slope, which, luckily for me, was getting less steep as it went down, so neither the torch nor the bones were broken. So, each man for himself, with my torch lit, I pushed on, on threes, to catch up with the galloping hordes ahead. Then came the final descent. It was the most treacherous of all the stretches we had done till now – stones and rocks that gave way under weight, loose earth that slipped treacherously, smooth rock faces with a sprinkling of loose sand, low hanging tree branches, and scary beasts. Worst of all, it was night, and there was no moon in the sky to aid us like the night at Bhojwasa, and many did not carry their torches too. Under this pressure, a semblance of order returned, and mini trains were formed, 3 or 4 in a sequence, the pioneer testing the terrain and moving on, the torch bearer remaining at the back, illuminating the path of all in front. It was around 40 minutes of sheer terror – there was a very high probability of serious bodily damage, if not outright death. There was a lot of stumbling and slipping, a lot of falls. Nerves got frayed. Choicest expletives were hurled in the honour of the people who were believed to have put us in the situation. There was a lot of sniping between team mates. Again, as it all had started, it ended, suddenly – the rocky chute ended in plain, smooth grasslands, with the camp visible at the far end. If I had been the dramatic type, this would have been similar to the moment when Edmond Dantes hit the shoreline after swimming from Chateau d’if – a silent prayer on the knees. The camp was freezing and overcrowded, but then, it had a fire, and the food was excellent. Best of all, what we had endured in the last 2-3 hours was over forever. A few scores were settled verbally over the campfire, and then it all mellowed down, and soon we were packed in the tent like sardines in a tin, sleeping as peacefully as we’d do on a kingsize bed.

After what we had endured last night, the descent to Hanumanchatti (13-14 km) was a breeze. Our exploits of the night had got us famous. Group 3 members commented on how after they felt pretty smug on crossing some of the most treacherous stretches, we wiped their smugness away by doing the same at night! One member of the staff was overheard describing us as ‘the special group which is always getting lost’. We did live up to our reputation that evening – on return from Yamunotri ( 5 km uphill done in the afternoon), we again managed to do a torchlight trek. For some strange reason, all the lamps lining the route were out. And some of our group mates managed to find a panther on the way! Many people were really thankful it all ended the next  day, many more than would care to admit now.

The price of armchair planning

What struck us the most was the sheer datedness of the planning. Many of the routes and halts had been washed away in the recent flashfloods – but the planners did not have a clue – leading to a lot on the spot diversions and improvisations, which usually meant extra trekking on an uncomfortably tight schedule. They can always claim that this was a test. Then there was the lack of preparedness for dealing with medical emergencies. When the ‘poor guy’ lost his knees, we were totally clueless and stalled. It was lucky that the chaos of that evening did not descend on us in the morning itself – or he may have been left to freeze on the slopes itself. A satellite phone would have been really appreciated, for being able to convey about this type of situation to a competent entity. Again, they can always claim this was a test. Finally, the briefing advice about taking less cash – we were promised food at 20 bucks and bed at 100 bucks. What we actually found out was 40 gram Maggi at 60 rupees, bottles of water at 75 rupees. At Bhojwasa, the bill was Rs.32000. It was joked on how such a bill could be raised without meat or booze, but there it was – and not wrongly so – these places are totally inaccessible by vehicles, and mule packs take half a day to get there. Anything had to pricey there. We had wiped out our cash by day 3, and then we had to do a lot of things to get cash at Uttarkashi, which included pulling rank on a bank manager! Again, this can be claimed to be a test. In that case, I must congratulate all of us on clearing yet another daunting stage of the CSE.

The 'vectorial' mountains
Another funny thing was the strange geometrical shenanigans the mountains played on us. On the climb to Bhojwasa, I remember asking a local how far Cheedwasa was, and he had told it was 2 km. After an hour or so of walking, and still no Cheedwasa, or any wasa in sight, I asked another person – pat came the reply – 3 km. This was a phenomenon that puzzled, vexed and later amused all of us. Distances just did not seem to add up, or subtract – you may be ‘6 kms’ from the destination at a moment, and ‘8 km’ from it after an hour of walking. It looked as if the hill people simply did not have an idea of the metric system of length! Another frequent reply was – “Bas, yahin pe hai” (It’s just round the corner ), which turned out to be ‘2-3 hrs of trekking’ away. Of course, in our free time, we had a lot of laugh on this. Many faux theories were passed around explaining this, including ‘worm holes’. Finally, we settled for vectorial explanation – where 3 + 3 can range from 6 to 0!

The mule

On these hills we discovered that of the whole equine family, the horse has been wrongly romanticised a lot. For what has a horse led to – wars & speed junkies. The real champion is the lowly mule – the khachchar. An offspring of the horse and the ass, it is the lifeblood of the mountains. Whatever little of modern amenities reaches these hell-holes reaches there on the sturdy backs of these quiet beasts. I really wonder if any other animal has such a rotten life. Climbing the bouldery and slippery paths, on hooves, no less, bearing quintals of load, day in and day out. Being sterile, it does not have access even to conjugal pleasures! Just a chomp off the grass and shrubbery here and there is all that’s good in its life. I salute thee, o mule.

The equality of the sexes

If anybody had any doubt on the equality of the sexes, it should have been wiped clear during this week. The contingent had 6 ladies. They matched the ‘gentlemen’, step for step, joke for joke, song for song, wit for wit, climb for climb, kilos on the back for kilos on the back (or they may have even surpassed us there, as they seemed to carry everything that was needed!). And they did not ‘be girly and delicate’ – in hardships, all inhibitions were gradually dropped – the loos were shared at Bhowasa, and we all had to ‘rough it out’ unabashedly. And despite all that, they managed to remain all cheerful. While the ‘gentlemen’ shed all signs of gentility in a day or two, they continued to remain all radiant and pretty – the oases of beauty in the bleak landscape! Before one of the men was immobilized by the knee failure, all the ailments and physical ills seemed to have struck our ladies alone. One developed serious hypoxia and one sprouted blisters, a couple every day! Yet, never did we feel ‘slowed down’ on their account. After this week, I have no doubt on the ability of women to serve in the combat forces.

The judgement

So how would I judge this whole episode of my life. Not favourably. I would beg to disagree with most of my mates, who seem to have put on rose tinted glasses on return. I would like to remind them of the night of 5^th October, when they had nearly met their maker. Did we have fun? Yes, we did  – but we might have had more of it sitting on a beach! Did we build camaraderie and esprit de corps? Yes, but only in those few waking hours when we were not trudging up like mules? Did we ‘get fit’? I doubt that – the climb from hostel to classes is still as daunting. Was it all brave, heroic and adrenaline charged? Yes, it was – but so was ‘the charge of the light brigade’ at the battle of Balaclava. Make no mistake – one had volunteered to join the armed forces straight after the school, and may have been there, but for some medical disqualifications. So one is willing to die for a cause decent enough. What one would hate is to die, on someone else’s compulsion, in vain. The famous quote from ‘A Wednesday’ comes to my mind – “Koi m******* button dabake mere liye ye faisla nahi karega ki mujhe kab marna hai”(No 'personal maternal expletive omitted' should decide the time of my death for me  by pressing a button) With this, I lay my keys to rest for now.