At 2 o clock on a freezing January night, when the cold reaches your bones, three layers of thick clothing seem like nothing but a formality. Teeth rattle in rhythm, fingers move involuntarily to catch the hot white air emanating from the mouth - that’s when one re-considers all decisions in life.
Rosy began to wonder how she landed up in the middle of New Delhi’s Rajpath this winter night. Ambition? Or a hasty career choice?

It wasn’t enough that Rosy was an above average student and aced her exams. Her parents, friends and Rosy herself, sought that elusive ‘all-round’ success for her. Those extra certificates and medals. Something extra. Extra-curricular. 

‘What all-round success would I find on this street in this darkest of hours?’ she wondered as she held her rifle close to her chest. It was not the first time she had had doubts about her decision. 

The toughest part of the night was yet to arrive. 

***

Tonight, Captain Amit Verma was the officer incharge of her battalion. He walked with brisk strokes towards Rosy and the other cadets who had lined up in the middle of Rajpath, close to India Gate. The cadets of the National Cadet Corps - the youth wing of the Indian Armed Forces -  were to form three columns for their practice march.
“Parade Savdhaan” Amit Verma’s baritone pierced through the air, infusing it with a sudden heat which made all the cadets sit up. Rosy’s feet came together in “attention” on their own. But, her mind was stuck on something she had seen on Twitter that morning. ‘Farmers not allowed to march on the outer ring road’ the news article read.