Godspeed of the Goddess of Victory – Assam Rifles

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It is the unanimous, incontestable Gospel truth that the solider, fearsome, horrid children of India, the precarious reefs,  the vigilant, volatile, augmented soldiers of India comprise the laughs of valor in their elated fervent hearts (graft, sycophancy, ochre can’t apprise or buy this vigorous assertive modality). The enviable peaches of Assam Rifles are enriched with the same insidious percipience, legacy, and inheritance (even the naysayers and sceptics can’t revoke the validation of this verity). This rigid herd (constellation rather) also has the dormant cordial, indigenous affinities with selfless ministion to the nation yet to the people of the nation, the cult, the homage, assumption to demean the wicked enemies and gush of bravery. Every hallowed, relentless member of Assam Rifles aspires, yearns and finally intends to flaunt up dander, to purr, to parch, to seize, grasp with profanity, to fixate the bloods of the apprehensive curs (who are longing to solidify a sabotage always), to make the unkind crew of culprits noddle, malleable, gloomy, tarnished, sanitised, aspen, torn, shattered, debris, despaired yet shrunk and disrupt the talismans of the worthless,, inferior caterpillar like enemies and rivet the dainty crowns of the winners from them and make them funereal. 
They indulge the oracular mentation to aggravate the turbulent cravings of creepy victory, their capability to avail the inevitable victory is above of every suspicion, and the fleeting mantras of victory revolve in the attics of the heart castles of these pertinent, painstaking people. Courage urges the disposal of the surges of their precipitations merely. No tow can bind them; no aggress can hinder them to embrace, grapple the massive success. They aren’t surfs or hulks or glimmers or dimmers, they never snooze. They never evacuate the hope of paramount victory; they have the compulsion to not to do anything which is abusive, they derive only the satiety of victory as their render. Each of them is a brisk, takes risk, discards fears, impels worries to take the backseat, actuate themselves, accentuate ‘HAIL  MOTHERLAND’ flaps and frisks with dynamism to win only. They schmooze with their quests; their calling calls for the victory only, they have the deep kinships with commotion and conquest, they oblige the conquest to not to weigh only but to confer them the willingness to make the conquest a nepotist for them as a matter of fact. Assam Rifles – the valour  studded gateway of the domain of the excessive success, hunch of victory, the credential of conquest, the another symbol of fatality for the weed enemies of India, the oldest paramilitary force of our motherland conjures, solemnises the victory solemnity, felicitates the gusto feelings, swells the head of mother India with pride utterly always.The debut year of Assam Rifles is 1835. At that time, it was proclaimed as Cachar Levy.  In the year of 1883, this name was changed and became Assam Frontier Police. The process of the name changing was replicated for several times.   
At last, in  the  year of 1917 it  was finally designated  as Assam Rifles and  started  to assign themselves to etch it’s  name  as the, herald,  Harbinger in the colloquial style on the  havoc of  victory, to display the slapstick heatedly, to shimmer the ways of accountable victory, to orchestrate the obligatory ways of victory precisely in a bountiful poised format, to take leaps from cocoons, to volunteer themselves to hatch and emerge history of dividend, to display the instances of heart touching, astounding efforts to offend, paddle, puddle yet dispatch the scorns, to make them wonder-struck, to disown the  relentless, laden clouds  of  woe from the sky of  our  India, to allow every resident of every shebang of this scrumptious  country to feel the indigence of formidable enemies too.    
They fought bravely in First World War in Europe and in Middle East. The  people of  Burma saw these untired  aces to onslaught, oppress and devastate their enemies , impel them to sigh, to succumb lastly.

Writer-
 Mithu Ghoshal (multiple world record holder)

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