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Bengaluru, Karnataka, India
hi! This BLOG is a collection of short stories authored by me. I'm new to writing and take it as a means to explore the ungiven. I hope you enjoy the stories and look forward to your comments, queries and/or criticisms. Enjoy! :)

Thursday, December 2, 2010

The Epic Story

A splash of water on Abdul's face opened his eyes. "Get up son. Its already 11. father is waiting for you at the shop.", said his mother. With a weary, helpless look he woke up and stared around his house that was built in late 1800s in that small, but happening lane of old Delhi. Nayi sadak they'd call it and infact it was called so since ages.

He entered the washroom. Completed his morning chores and started going towards AZHAR TAILORS, his father's store that sold sarees, salwar-kameez and lehangas. It was their family business. His father although, had given him the option of doing whatever he wanted but now, at the age of 18 he had finished Xth grade with 59% and XIIth grade with 48% marks- his father was forced to kill all the liberty given to him and forced him to work at the shop.

"Everyday, the same thing again and again. Try and get up early from tomorrow. Now go to Patel uncle's shop and give him these 3 suits and get 30 rupees in return". As Abdul started to walk, his father looked at the window in the building in front of the shop. A woman in her burqa was shaking her hand. "And take this 10 paisa coin and feed yourself at the bakery. Your mother is saying you've not had anything. But come fast."

In 1940, a 10 paisa coin was more than enough to get a good meal for two people. Thinking that he'll spend 5 paise on a pastry and the other 5 will go in his piggy bank, Abdul reached patel uncle's shop and did exactly what his dad told him. " Shukriya. anything else from abba, do let me know." With a smiling nod, Patel uncle accepted Abdul's words.

Settling the 30 rupees in the safest pocket of his kurta-pyjama- Abdul continued towards MODERN BAKERY. The only bakery that sold British goods in the whole of Delhi- so was told. But in reality they'd make it at the back and sell it-calling it IMPORTED or 'vilayati'. Either ways, it sold delicious cream rolls. Abdul finished 4 cream rolls. 1 paisa each. He ordered for one more. Cashier uncle said, "Beta, cream rolls are over. Wait for 2 mins, we're baking fresh ones. Almost done." As if Abdul had an option of neglecting those soft creamy rolls, he waited and started looking around at people. He could see so many familiar and unfamiliar faces. And then suddenly a gleeful smile came into the frame. All he could see was that girl's face now. Subtle and stunning. Chubby cheeks she had with a dimple on her right cheek. He felt like been sucked into a valley of flowers. The bright yellow salwar and the black chunni over it was devastating to Abdul's heart.

Abdul observed a really thin delicate payal around her ankle as she walked the steps of Modern bakery. " Oh! How are you? All is going fine at home? If you need help- tell me. How is Rashmi's marriage going?", said the cashier to her as she entered the bakery with a lady beside her who Abdul presumed to be her friend or sister.

" Everything is fine. All well. And even i have to rush. Is liye jaldi se do cream roll- special wale."

Abdul wondered if she always had that kind of a smile or was it something special today. Either ways, it was killing him. He'd never seen anybody so beautiful ever. As his heart was melting- the most embarrasing moment came. She looked at him. And her lips widened as if acknowledging Abdul's eyeline. Her smile grew wider and then narrowed but her eyes didn get off Abdul's. She seemed to be liking Abdul too, so he thought.

He was in a baloon and so was she. Admiring each other's looks and wanting to know more about each other. By now it was clear damages were equal on both ends. The fire had struck both sides. And then Fire brigade arrived.

" Abdul Bhaijaan- congratulations. Abba is really happy. Very unexpected,naa!. Go fast, everyone is eagerly waiting for you at the shop."

Not being able to understand the gravity of the situation, Abdul started going towards home. And in the process of walking he looked back. She was still staring at him in harmony. As if that was the only thing she was going to do throughout life. As if it brought peace to her.

Her face hid behind the pillar of the bakery. Abdul looked in front and gave a pat at the back of his head smiling to himself.

On reaching the shop- Abdul saw his father with his arms wide open and wondered what was happening.
" Very good son. I've never been so happy. You got selected!!".
" Selected? Selected for what abba?", enquired Abdul.
" Oh! My memory!. I forgot to tell you. The Britishers are recruiting people for the ARMY. They promise to take you abroad. France, I heard. And they also give pension after retirement. Fully secured life, it is. Even Nehru and Gandhi have said that the moment this war is over, we will get indepepndence! So, you should go and be welcomed back in independant India. Your country needs you now. Also, the Britishers have promised special training for 2 years in UK first and then they will send you in the battlefield. Your career will be set,my son. They will directly give you the rank of a captain, so, no need to worry. And Aamir, your elder brother can handle this shop. So- all in all it is a good deal my son. Accept it."

"But when do have to leave and where do I go?"

" Today- at 5 o'clock- the bus will come to pick you up. Go, hurry -pack your bags. We have a marriage at Sharma uncle's house. His daughter Rashmi is getting married. So, i am busy at the shop. You go now."

Never in Abdul's life- had he ever gone against his father's wishes. Why would he do it now? Also, he would be going abroad. Nobody in his family or in his colony had ever gone abroad. So, he accepted it and went home. With the help of his rather sentimental mother- he packed his bags.


At 4 o'clock-he was ready. He went to the shop and saw his father. His father was busy showing sarees to a bunch of girls. So, he quietly went and sat at the cashier's chair thinking about leaving Delhi and going to UK. Thinking about who he will meet, about how his life would be, about how he would miss his mother, about how he would miss his father's taunting and on and on.

" Abdul, pass the green saree. Fourth from the right in the silk saree bundle". His father said. Rather startled by this- Abdul removed the saree and looked towards the bunch of girls. There she was again! for the second time today, he saw her. The same clothes, the same gleeful face.

Their eyes met again. They kept looking at each other wishing the fire brigade would never arrive.
" Sweety, ye dekh naa." said the lady beside her with a nudge from the elbow. And the link was broken. The vibrant strings stopped strumming. The positive energy suddenly got secluded.

"Sweety?", Abdul thought to himself. And kept jumping in his mind for more information on her. His father then asked one of the shopkeepers to take over and went towards Abdul.

Abdul sat next to his father and a dialogue took place about how he should take care of him and they'll always wait for him. So, the dialogue was accompanied by tears and mutual love was evident. The bus arrived right in front of the shop. Adul looked up to his mother in the opposite building. She was at the window. In a burqua, she shook her hand. Then, with the other hand over her mouth she rushed inside the house, wanting to cry loudly.

Abdul got on the bus and looked at everybody -for what he thought the last time. He set his bags alright. And then he stared at "sweety" for a while and then got to his window seat. With a big smile to his father- the bus started moving. He kept staring at his father and that girl until the distance made them invisible. With tears down his eyes, he heard," first time away form mother-father. Or is it your girlfriend you are crying for?"

He looked beside him. It was this young fellow, small eyes, brown moustache- gray shirt. White khaki pant and neatly combed hair. " Hi I am Rajiv Thukral", the unknown face said.


" me-Abdul."

And so the conversation started. All throughout the bus they were talking sharing annecdotes of their respective lives. They enjoyed each others company. They enjoyed knowing about each other.

After the 13 hour journey, Rajiv said" you didn't answer my question. Were you crying for your parents or your girlfriend?", as they enreted the gates of the INDO-BRITISH MILITARY ACADEMY, DEHRADUN.

" Haha. Oh no! That was just for my mother and father. I realise how much they love me. And my girlfriend-ha!no girl friend. I just saw the girl first time today morning. All i know is that her name or pet-name is SWEETY and she is born in a Hindu family and they have a wedding this weekend."

Showing some pitty, some contentment and some disbelief- Rajiv got down the bus first followed by Abdul.

At the academy, they got training for 3 weeks. They learnt how to use guns and some outdooring survival skills. Rajiv was excelling at his training and so he applied for leave to get married before going- he was granted the same.

The british army was falling short of soldiers. So, they had to send send troops as soon as possible. Abdul was supposed to be sent this week! No formal training. No training in the Uk. Just this 3 weeks training and he'll be off to Berlin.
Naturally, Rajiv would be called back now. But Abdul and Rajiv would be in two different regiments. In two different parts of the world. Probably never to meet- never to be seen again. Never would that face to face talk come. Never can they share their stories again!

The next week saw his departure to Delhi and from Dehradun. They were airlifted to Bombay. And from there ships packed with soldiers form different parts of India were welcomed in Berlin with guns and cannons all around.

One night all of them had to go and ambush the German establishments while the other they were supposed to save themselves from such attacks. Being a part of the ROYAL ANGLIAN REGIMENT which was the most successful regiment till now in the whole war- was a relief to some extent. But it can't stop the pain that one experiences if a bullet is hit in one's ankle or if one is deprived of food for 3 days, the agony in oneself.

Everyone was smoking around Abdul- sometimes to kill memories, sometimes to kill time...but he didn't. He did namaz whenever he found time. And was regular in his prayers. He was stationed in the medic camp for 2 weeks after being up-ranked to a major. Where he had to help the doctors to treat the soldiers that came in.

On one such night, Abdul was at his chair when 4 people rushed in the camp with a stretcher in their hands .
"Cummon guys. Fast. Find us a bed." One of the stretcher bearers shouted.

Abdul helped them to a bed in that huge medic camp and called for a doctor.

As the doctor came, Abdul told him, "Quick. Colt .5 mm in the wrist and 2 L.R. 56 MCG bullets in the right leg. Gangrene suspected. Right wrist fracture. Bullet too deep to be taken out."
" The doctor nodded in agreement with Abdul. We need to put him on the ventilator."

As luck would have it- all ventilators were used up. All soldiers that were using the ventilators were in a critical phase. This was very normal for Abdul to witness. Almost thirty to forty soldiers died of lack of equipment/medicines or sometimes even doctors. He saw it as a mode of sacrifice. That is what a soldier devotes his life to- SACRIFICE. And this be one of the many aspects of that word.

So, he wasn't startled this time. He went to the man on the bed. Removed his helmet. The man was breathing and his face turned towads Abdul. Abdul read his nametag on the right part of his chest.

Unbelievable as much as it might be- it stated RAJIV THUKRAL!!
In a flawless state of creeping delirium- Abdul kept staring at the lamp on the side table. He didnt know what to do.

" I know my time has come. These fucking Britishers, with no training they sent me here. No one taught us how to use the medic kit given. Infact, many of us weren't even given medic kits. Instead they gave us extra-rounds of ammos. They said we'll need it. I am from India by the way. I dont know if you understand what I'm saying. But believe it or not- you are the last person I'm talking to. I can feel it."

nNot knowing what to say, he decided not to tell Rajiv who he was.
Abdul said, " I am from India too. As a last wish, is there anything I can do for."
" I was in the middle of my marriage when they called me back. Those fucking assholes. However, my wife said she'll wait for me to come back and kissed me silently on my cheek. I can't forget that feeling. That moment has crept into the bottom of my heart. The stillness of her lips on my cheek has over-awed me. I have a letter in the pocket of my pant. Once I die, please take it and give it to her. 16/330, khajoor road New Delhi. Tell her I love her the most. Also tell her to get married and not wait for me. Tell her I was a valiant soldier and I died serving a Country. I died a brave man- not a coward!!"

Abdul couldn't stop his tears. With his hand to his mouth- he walked out of the tent. Cried for a while, wiped his tears and came back.

When he returned, RAJIV WAS DEAD. Unmoved. Lying still. Abdul reached closely, felt Rajiv's pulse and slowly closed his eyes. Then he removed the letter from Rajiv's pant and cried even more. His eyes swelled up and his body drained out of mucous and tears. He had to get back to his duty.

Handling himself- he stood upright and kept the letter safely in his bagpack.

Two days later the war ended. It was announced that the allied forces had won. And they were the champions. Everyone would get their salaries and medals when they went back home.

This time lesser people on the ship back to India. With all kinds of questions in mind, they arrived at Bombay and then a train led them to Delhi.

Abdul went home and met his parents joyfully. They cut meat that night. Eveoryne was so happy that he was back. His arrival was not expected after two years of no communication between him and his family. It was an extremely happy moment. In the next week Abdul was going to get married. He was welcomed as a hero and out of the so-many offers , they chose AISHA, the beautiful young b.com graduate from Jamia Milia university.

That night he went towards the window. Staring outside, he reflected back on his days at the war. It then struck him, about Rajiv's letter. How could he forget! He checked the cupboard, it was there. He thought he would go and give it the very next day.

He took an auto and then a bus.
After eacing the area, he asked a bunch of people" 16/330 kahan hai?". No one knew it.

Then a lady was passing by. He said, "Madam. 16/330 is where?" She too didn't know then he asked the same lady," MAJOR RAJIV THUKRAL's house?"

The lady laughed and said," Sir!- its right in front of view!"

"Okay. Thank you." He said and raised his eyes.

A dilapilated but vibrant house was in front of him. No address. No name.

He knocked the door. An old lady opened the door. "Yes? Who do you want?", said the lady.

Thinking that she was old, he preferred not to tell her the truth. He thought a younger member of the family would tell her, then she'd feel better.
" I am rajiv's friend. He was with me in the army. And I heard he returned yesterday- just came to say hi!"

"OH! i am his mother and he hasn't come back till now. I am his mother by the way- SHEILA.", she said with confusion and smile on her face.

"Okay. He might be on his way. I met him in Bombay three days ago. He might be coming.", said Abdul

"Yes. Yes. Please come inside. Have some tea."
As he entered the house, she said," Please sit here. I'll call Rajiv's wife."

As he sat there, his heartbeat increased and forehead started sweating. He didnt know how to say it now. He was in a dilemma whether to sit or to leave the house right away. There was sarcasm all over in the air.

And then the unexpected happened.

" SWEETY, come fast- Rajiv's friend has come here."

The moment Abdul heard this- the world stopped in front of him. Suddenly a picture struck to him. He was scared to death now. " Sweety?", he thought to himself. And there she came. It was the same girl. He had a photographic memory of her. He now didnt know what to do.

"Hello sir. Tea with ginger, naa? Amma told me that you are Rajiv's friend and that Rajiv is back in India. Safe and sound. You've brought real good news. I'll order some sweets. I knew Lord Rama would not disappoint me!"

In mere bewilderment he kept staring at her smile. Wondering if he should be the one to take it away or let it be.......