Khwaahish

~𝒥𝒶𝓈𝓂𝒾𝓃ℯ𝓈~

The morning at the camp in Kashmir was serene and peaceful. The sun rose over the majestic mountains, casting a golden hue over the lush valleys. The crisp, cool air carried the scent of pine trees, and the gentle sound of a nearby stream created a calming atmosphere. As the morning mist slowly lifted, the camp came to life with the rustling of tents and the chatter of soldiers preparing for the day ahead.

The training area, however, was a stark contrast to the tranquil morning. Set against the rugged backdrop of the mountains, it was a place of intense activity and discipline. The ground was marked with footprints from countless drills, and targets lined the far end of the range.

He stood at the target range, barking orders at the unfortunate new recruits, making them do push-ups for every missed shot. As a well-known trainer notorious for being tough, he paced back and forth, shouting and glaring at the trainees, looking as angry as ever. Nothing new there.

"What are you aiming at, soldier?!" Aaditya yelled, stepping in front of one of the trainees who had missed the target completely for the third time in a row. He got right in the trainee's face, pointing to the target. "THIS! You idiot! THIS IS WHAT YOU NEED TO HIT!" he growled, glaring into the terrified trainee's eyes.

Then he turned to the others. "AND THE REST OF YOU! IF YOU DON'T PICK UP THE PACE, I SWEAR I WILL MAKE YOU DO PUSH-UPS UNTIL YOUR ARMS FALL OFF!"

Aaditya's uniform was unmistakably that of a seasoned commando trainer, reflecting his role and the discipline he demanded. The olive-green fatigues he wore were practical and rugged, designed for the challenging terrain of Kashmir. His uniform bore the insignia of the Indian Army, showing his dedication to duty.

His shirt was neatly tucked into his trousers, which were secured with a thick black utility belt that held various pouches and training equipment. The trousers were tucked into sturdy black boots, polished to endure the rough landscape.

On his shoulders, Aaditya wore the distinctive epaulettes of a commando trainer, indicating his rank and position. His chest displayed a badge with his name and division, and a patch on his right sleeve represented his unit. Every detail of his uniform was meticulously maintained, showcasing the high standards he expected from his trainees.

"Bas kar ........kitna gussa karega ab," Shiva said, cleaning his gun.

                                                                                                  ("Stop it... How much more will you stay angry?")

"They deserve it. Just because they passed a few exams and medicals, they think they've made it. Now they think they can slack off, be lazy, and do whatever they want," Aaditya replied.

Shiva chuckled, "Tough leader you are!"

"I have to be. They're just a bunch of idiots. Look at that boy—he can't even hold a gun properly." He moved over to help the trainee, noticing that the boy seemed a bit overwhelmed.

Aaditya noticed the new trainee struggling with his weapon and looking overwhelmed. Approaching with a calm demeanour, he hoped to ease the young soldier's nerves. "Hey, It's ok. Take it easy." he said, offering reassurance. "Let's adjust your grip so you feel more comfortable."

Aaditya carefully observed the trainee's trembling hands on the gun, noting the incorrect placement of his fingers. "Okay, see here," Aaditya said, gently placing his own hands over the trainee's to guide him. He adjusted the trainee's grip, ensuring his fingers were correctly aligned. "Keep your elbows tucked and your shoulders relaxed. Let the gun become an extension of your body."