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With the words "ghost town"echoing in my mind, I got on the bus that would take us to Milovice, 38 kilometres from Prague. Needless to say, I didn't know what to except. There wasn't much information available on the internet. But as we approached the destination, I could see buildings that had a strong past but no future. We finally got off near the airfield. One could see the different tanks, helicopters and barracks that the landscape was peppered with. Before getting off the bus, we were warned regarding the dangers of taking the BVP ride in the marshy area next to the tankodrom. People with back problems were asked to not to venture near the tank ride for their own safety. We saw people disembark from the tanks with injuries on their hands and feet. Being an adrenaline junkie, I didn't care about the risks, I was all in for the ride. There was a man sitting in front of the tank and there were five rows in total with horizontal bars to hold onto. One had to lower themselves into the rows and then stand holding the bar in front of them. Maybe standing was not the best idea but well, who was judging anyway? I steadied myself for the ride that lay ahead while people kept coming in. The guy sitting at the front of the tank with his fatigues on yelled,"How's the josh?" And the automatic response from our side was," High Sir". No wonder dialogues from Bollywood movies were well known across the globe. And then it started.. And lasted for a duration of fifteen minutes. It felt like the tank was falling into the depths of the earth and resurfacing again and again with all on board. It was both a nightmare and a delight. The adrenaline rush was a hundred times more than I have ever experienced on a roller coaster ride and the likes. We were being flung to the sides, to the front , to the back. In about two minutes, I gave up trying to control my body. The bar I was holding onto was not providing me much comfort either. To top it all off, a man kept sitting on my hand, unable to balance himself whilst trying to safeguard his wife from falling . With each fall and rise, I felt my body both tighten and relax at the same time. It felt as if I was a rag doll. I could not feel the floor anymore and the horizon kept going zig-zag in front of my eyes. As the minutes passed,I no longer cared that my jacket had slid off a shoulder or that my left thumb was starting to feel numb or that I had a continuous churning feeling in my stomach. When the tank dove again down the undulating land for the last time, I felt the man sit again on my left hand and my thumb being twisted in an awkward way. Closing my eyes and not letting go of the bar, I offered a silent prayer and steeled myself against the final few minutes that lay ahead. When the ride came to an end, I could no longer feel any tension in my body. My body was as relaxed as a puddle and my senses were heightened. But one look at my clotted left thumb brought me back to the harsh reality that life is. With my limbs barely working, i got off the tank and went to put my left hand under cold water in the washroom. To say the water was cold would be wrong, it was ice and i felt it bring a certain warm tingling feeling back to my thumb. As I looked up, I caught my reflection grinning hard on the mirror. There were people with mud stains on their jackets and overcoats, some groaning due to their injuries. But everyone had one thing to say- nothing replaced the thrill of getting a ride in a tank on a marshy land. It is one of the rides one ought to take in the long ride of life!