The Riding Soldier: Leaving Shillong & Rowdy Military Training Memories (Part 4)
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The Call of Duty and a Morning of Echoing Memories
As planned, I did not waste a single moment after waking up in the morning. Following the military discipline embedded in my blood, I quickly wrapped up all my remaining official paperwork. I couldn't afford to spend any more time in this magical kingdom of clouds—the eternal call of duty was whispering in the background. However, my heart was a bit heavy today. Just last night, I had reunited with one of my closest old comrades! Long ten years ago, we had endured the grueling hours of rigorous military training together.
Sitting under the open sky, sipping hot steaming tea, we lost track of time as our conversation stretched past 1 AM. Opening the chest of old memories, countless stories of our training days, sweet rebellions, and the golden days of youth came rushing back! We laughed the hardest over one particular mischief. Every Sunday, while everyone else was busy getting haircuts or doing laundry, the two of us would stealthily scale the training center walls like thieves. We would cross the canal right through the airport area just to wander around the local market. We always made sure to change back into our uniforms and stand submissively in the roll-call line right before the noon check-in. But fate had other plans one day! We were caught red-handed by an on-duty CISF jawan. He straight away reported us to our center. The funny thing was, while everyone else faced severe punishments, we managed to escape because we had smartly given them fake names!
Then came the thrilling tale of our final Night Firing test. One of our friends had missed the target completely and was on the verge of failing. The two of us had hidden pencils in our pockets, and we secretly poked holes into his target sheet so he could pass. But luck didn’t favor us that time; we were caught and sentenced to stay awake all night as a harsh punishment. Floating in this ocean of nostalgia and banter, we didn’t even realize when the clock struck one. Finally, with a heavy heart but a content soul, I went to bed.
Farewell Shillong: The Roar of 'Dhannu' and the Spell of the Road
The next morning, the moment my hands gripped the handlebar of my beloved Royal Enfield 'Dhannu', a strange wave of thrill and excitement shot through my veins. Piercing through the dense morning fog, the familiar deep rumble of Dhannu echoed across the mountain valleys. Leaving behind Shillong, the city of silver clouds, and carrying a chest full of bittersweet memories, I revved the engine once again. My destination this time was the familiar, bustling plains of Guwahati.
The very roads that had welcomed me with open arms on my way up seemed to take on a deep, solemn, and melancholic aura today on my return journey. Even the thumping sound of my Royal Enfield felt slightly heavier, tuned to the melody of goodbye. The smooth tarmac that had embraced me like a butterfly's wing on my arrival now seemed to frown in silent resentment. The dense green pine forests standing silently on both sides, the light white clouds drifting gently along the mountain ridges, and the distant musical hum of waterfalls—everything combined to create a heavenly, mystic atmosphere.
The breathtaking natural canvas that had delighted my eyes on the way up now made my heart restless and whimsical. As Dhannu leaned into the dangerous mountain curves, gaining speed, the cold biting wind brushed past my helmet visor, whispering, "Why must you leave me incomplete like this?"
The Silent Plea of Umiam Lake
Right then, it felt as though the giant pine trees guarding the roads and the serene, vast waters of Umiam Lake were calling out to me in desperation. Through the rustling murmur of the leaves, they seemed to wrap around me, saying, "Stay a little longer! Spend just a few more moments in our lap..."
I could not escape that silent, enchanting call of nature. I could feel every melody in the wind, the deep sigh of the pine forests, and the silent sorrow hidden within the calm waters of Umiam Lake echoing in the deepest corners of my soul. For a moment, it felt as if the quiet loneliness of nature and the intense chaos of my military life were somehow tied together by an invisible thread. Both so close, yet so isolated!
Taking a final soul-filling look, I memorized every detail—the familiar crossroad of Nongpoh town, and the distant, serene blue waters of Umiam Lake. This divine, raw beauty of the mountains and the melancholy of departure completely absorb a tired rider's exhaustion, leaving behind a hauntingly beautiful nostalgia to carry for a lifetime.
Returning to the Plains: Closing the Meghalaya Diaries
As the winding descent and the thrilling mountain trails finally ended, the harsh afternoon sun began to mellow down. A soft, golden evening light draped the landscape. The humid breeze blowing from the Brahmaputra basin whispered to me that I was very close to Guwahati.
Finally, by late afternoon, I arrived in Guwahati—the gateway to Assam and my bustling, familiar station of duty. As the mystical silence of the mountains and the blanket of fog faded away, Dhannu’s wheels rolled into the familiar traffic, chaos, and busy streets of Guwahati, bringing a profound sense of mental satisfaction. The joy of returning to your own shelter, your own zone after a long and daring mountain adventure is entirely unmatched. The reddish mountain dust caked onto Dhannu’s body stood as a silent, loyal witness to this highly successful and thrilling journey.
With this beautiful, calm evening, my 'Meghalaya Diaries' wrapped in memories came to an end. But a rider's life never gets contained within a single diary! I will be returning very soon with the untold stories and hidden corners of Guwahati in the upcoming episodes.
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