When I reached my hotel that night, it dawned on me that one can never be too prepared for death. History is humbling in this regard. Look at the Greek tragedian, Aeschylus, who was reportedly killed when an eagle dropped a tortoise on his bald head, mistaking it for a rock that would crack the shell open. Consider the Mughal emperor Humayun, who, after surviving countless wars and the betrayal of many, ultimately returned to India, only to barrel down to his death on the steps of a library. Every time I eat Chinese manchurian, whose radioactive red food dye pierces through the firmament, my mother reminds me that Akbar the Great, no less, died of dysentery.
How will death come to me, I wondered, as I stepped into Jimmy Mistry’s D.A.T.A. (Della Adventure Training Academy) Resort in Lonavala. It is India’s first military-themed glamping resort, located in the heart of the northern Western Ghats, on the Deccan plateau’s western edge, where it crumbles into the Konkan lowlands. After a stomach-churning ride through the dusty roads snaking through a forest, a boat escorted me across the Shirota Lake, on whose edge the resort sits. The resort is designed for those willing to get their hands dirty, only to return to the luxury of their suites at night. “The simple goal of D.A.T.A. is to train you into not being a liability to the country in moments of crisis,” Mistry tells me. Essentially, if I’m able-bodied, I cannot afford to freeze and do nothing when I’m stuck in a house on fire or caught in a natural disaster. The only way to train one’s muscle memory, then, is through actual, practical sessions.
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