The rooster had barely crowed when a loud nagāra drum exploded through the chhauni, vibrating the entire ground. Arjanveer jolted awake. The sky was still dark, but the camp was already alive with movement.
Nihang Singhs emerged from their tents in full blue bana, tying dumallas, picking up spears, checking shields, tightening kamarkassas. Even the air smelled different—like earth, steel, and discipline.
A young Nihang—Gurbaaz Singh—called out to him:
"Utho ve puttar! In the Dal, the day starts before the sun."
Arjanveer hurried out.His heart hammered from nerves, not exertion.
"What happens now?" he asked.
Gurbaaz smiled. "Your first test."
They guided him to an open area behind the chhauni. Torches still burned, lighting a circle where weapons were placed neatly on the ground—spears, talwars, chakkars, shields, and wooden training sticks.
Jathedar Jasraj Singh stood in the center.
His blue bani, heavy dumalla, and farla made him look like a figure carved out of history.
As Arjanveer stepped into the circle, Jasraj Singh didn't look up. Instead, he continued tying the strap of his gauntlet.
"You slept well?"
"Yes, Baba ji."
"That is good," Jasraj said calmly. "Because the world outside does not care if you are tired. A warrior must rise when others fall."
He finally lifted his gaze.
A silence filled the space.
"Today," he said, "we test your discipline, not your strength."
Arjanveer tried to stand tall, but his legs felt weak.
The jathedar pointed at a long wooden staff.
"Pick up the farrī. Hold it above your head. Arms straight."
Arjanveer obeyed, lifting the staff. It wasn't heavy at first.But after a minute, his shoulders burned.After three minutes, his arms shook uncontrollably.
Nihangs watched silently.
Jasraj Singh walked around him.
"A warrior's first enemy," he said, "is the weakness in his own mind."
The staff trembled. Arjanveer clenched his teeth.
"You think becoming a Nihang is only about wearing blue?""You think fearlessness is a gift?"
The jathedar's voice struck him harder than the pain.
"No. It is earned. With sweat. With discipline. With surrender to the Guru's hukam."
Four minutes. Five.
Arjanveer's grip slipped—
He forced it back.
Tears stung his eyes.
He didn't want to break.Not here.Not now.
Jasraj Singh finally raised his hand.
"Bas."
Arjanveer lowered the staff, almost collapsing.
A few Nihangs exchanged surprised glances.Gurbaaz Singh whispered, "Not bad for a first day."
But the jathedar wasn't finished.
He picked up a small metal kara and placed it in Arjanveer's palm.
"This," he said, "is not a reward."
Arjanveer looked up, confused.
"It is a reminder," Jasraj said."Pain is temporary. Discipline is forever."
He stepped closer.
"If you choose this path, you will not just learn to fight.""You will learn to conquer the enemy inside yourself."
Arjanveer closed his fingers around the cold steel.
And in that moment, for the first time in years, he felt something solid inside him.A purpose.A direction.A flame.
He bowed deeply. "Baba ji… I want to continue."
The jathedar nodded.
"Then tomorrow," he said quietly,"you begin preparing for Amritpaan."
Arjanveer's breath caught.
The path ahead had just become real.
And there was no turning back.