Empowering Trainers to Train Minds- Boots, Blisters, and Lessons

Sangram has been fortunate to have studied under two kinds of teachers. First, the ones who guided him academically, ensuring he developed the necessary knowledge and skills to excel in his studies. Then, there were those who taught him the invaluable lessons of life, instilling wisdom that shaped his character and resilience. It’s this latter group of teachers—life’s unspoken mentors—that Sangram found himself thinking about on each year on the "Teachers' Day".

This story is about the, the mentors who leave an indelible mark. The ones who guide you through moments where academic knowledge falls short, and only perseverance, willpower, and grit can carry you through.

It’s the walk that matters, not the Shoes

10:00 PM. It was the 6th day of living in the unforgiving jungles of Tamil Nadu. The Gentleman Cadets (GCs) were now halfway through their grueling training camp. Lined up in files, backs hunched under the weight of haversacks filled with sand—a quarter or a little more of each cadet's body weight—they were all set for a 4-6 hour runback. These weren’t ordinary runs; they were laden with the fatigue of the past days and the weight of expectations.

GC Sangram Singh, though determined, couldn’t help but feel a pang of worry. His right boot had torn open, leaving the toe exposed. Earlier that afternoon, he had sought out the camp cobbler, hoping for a repair. But the cobbler refused, urging Sangram to take a new pair. Sangram, however, knew better. New leather boots would mean shoe bites—blisters on the heel and footbridge of both legs. He made a choice - he’d run with the torn boot. A few blisters on his exposed toe seemed like the lesser evil compared to the fresh agony of breaking in new boots. After all, he had grown up playing football barefoot on gravel with his friends, and his feet had grown accustomed to the harshness.

Or so he thought.

As the evening review began, Sangram noticed something unusual. His senior instructor, usually focused on the cadets in the first few rows, glanced in his direction. More specifically, he was looking at Sangram’s boots. Sangram’s heart sank. He felt the weight of scrutiny and braced himself for the reprimand that could make his already challenging life at camp even harder. But to everyone’s surprise, the instructor didn’t say a word. He merely looked into Sangram’s eyes, stern and knowing.

It wasn’t a reprimand but a silent acknowledgment—a challenge for Sangram to bear the consequences of his choice and push through.

The whistle blew, and the cadets set off running with their full battle load, moving towards their distant destination. Sangram ran awkwardly, favoring his left foot and landing his right heel gingerly, trying to minimize the pain from the torn boot. And then, as if nature wanted to add to the challenge, it began to pour. The intense humidity that had been taking its toll on their lungs lifted slightly, and the cadets, reinvigorated by the rain, shouted their company slogan, pressing on with renewed energy.

But the reprieve was short-lived. The rainwater had soaked the sand in their haversacks, making them heavier and more cumbersome. For Sangram, this was the least of his worries. The sand, now wet, shifted with every step, causing the bag to rub painfully against his waist. It would take a week for the skin to heal from this constant friction. Some of the more resourceful cadets had lined their bags with plastic to prevent water from getting in, but Sangram hadn’t.

His battle was with his boots.

And it wasn’t getting easier. As the rainwater stopped flowing and began pooling in small pits, Sangram’s right foot, already compromised, repeatedly landed in the water-filled holes. Gravel and sand got trapped between his socks and his skin, aggravating the raw skin and blisters on his foot. His toe, now peeking out of the torn sock, was aching and raw.

Things worsened when the route led the cadets through irrigated fields. The black soil, churned up by the rain, had turned to thick, slushy mud. The darkness of the night made it impossible to see the treacherous path ahead. Sangram’s foot was now in a state of agony, and with every step, the mud forced its way deeper into the crevices of his torn boot.

But in the midst of this grueling experience, a voice in his head reminded him of what his instructor had silently conveyed earlier: "Overlook the pain. Complete the mission."

Sangram gritted his teeth, ignored the screaming protest from his foot, and kept pace with his fellow cadets. Together, they pushed through. By the end, their group had succeeded, despite the odds stacked against them.

What happened to Sangram’s foot that night was, in the end, manageable. But the lessons he learned were profound. It’s been 28 years since that night, but the story still resonates.

Every year, new cadets pass out, learning similar tough lessons. Some are part of the formal training curriculum, while others are self-taught—lessons about endurance, resilience, and the human spirit under pressure.

Because when times are tough, these lessons aren’t just memories. They become instincts, guiding you through difficult challenges.

#TrainingMinds #TeachersDay #LifeLessons