We left on the 29th, i.e. Friday afternoon. One State transport bus filled with around 103 2nd years and around 7 seniors. It was very stuffy. Obviously. Reaching the foot of the fort by bus took an hour and a half. I could feel my excitement rising as we wound through the streets of my dear city, the noise of the guys singing right behind all of us.
Once we had reached the foot, it was time to haul our heavy back-packs onto our poor backs and start the rigorous journey to the top. It took us a long time to actually manage to reach our base camp. The path uphill wasn't the most difficult in terms of climbing. It was steep and dusty with very few proper foot holds to utilise. Of course, our bags didn't make it any easier.
One of the first rules of ascending a hill or a mountain is that, you shouldn't stop. Making a stop on your way up for a few minutes makes you more tired. All the lethargy that seems to be a centimetre away while walking, floods into you, pushing you into the static inertia from which it is tedious and more energy-consuming to rise. I tried my level-best to put that stop at bay. I could feel the heat and blood charring my face, I could see the redness that my arms were slowly producing, and I could here the vapours of hot sweat leaving my face, as I puffed my way up. Our leader's calls of, "Just five more minutes!" helped in a very small way to actually keep us moving. At one point, I decided not to pay any heed to all the mountain-advice buzzing in my head and I sat down. I deserved it. We had covered 3/4th of th journey, and I had boiled to limit of vapouring into thin air. My mom's advice was now ringing in my ears - " Don't do anything life-threatening." This wasn't exactly that, but I didn't have to wait to move into that category, did I?
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