Anonymous Echoes

Incandescent bulbs were a luxury from where he came. He climbed the steps of McDonalds. After a long time did he step into a restaurant. He didn't know what to order or what to eat. He put his hand in his right pocket searching for his cell phone, scrolled the contacts list and located Amarbir Singh. "Oye! I'm at the saket j-block Macdonald's. You?....Achcha okay. come asap. If possible fly your bike over the traffic- like seriously. hah. lol. I dont think I'll fit in this place. Chal see you soon. Bye." He knew it in his heart, only the last sentence of the conversation with his friend Amar was true or rather serious, practical- if you may. And it was just a matter of time for it to be proven....

He sat at the table closest to the cashier. The A/C was something he wasn't used to. He couldn't help but overhear people talking. On the right,a girl talking about a break-up with her ex-boyfriend because she wanted to get intimate and he wanted a proper relationship. On his left, 2 boys talking about the suicide attempt of a girl residing in Triveni hostel of AIIMS because she was caught cheating and the principal humiliated her tremendously; she couldn't bear it and wanted to give up her life for that. Next to them, two girls talking about the crazy elders accusing their parents for not giving them enough freedom to go out after twelve in the night, "cummon ya! this is just ridiculous. We're in class 11 now ya. We should be given the freedom to take our own decisions. 12 O'clock is nothing ya. All parties start at that time. But who will tell this to my mom. Chalo, we have to live like this only. Bonded labour. ", one girl said to the other as the other nodded in agreement. He really thought that he wouldn't ever fit in such a world. Two words that he had never ever even hinted himself about. He had to give in today. "Its impossible", he muttered to himself.

As he was thinking about this, a hand came and gave him a slight push on his right shoulder. " Lieutenant colonel Dilsher Dhillon. Welcome. Tussi toh vaisehi ho. Ji bilkul same-to-same. Welcome to our part of the country sirjee. Its southern to your part but its still north. Ha-ha-ha", said Amarbir Singh as he kept his bike helmet on the table. "Amarbir! Nice to meet you. After a long time, we've met. Remember our days in school. We use to roam on your bike. Just ride and ride", Dilsher chuckled simultaneously trying to overcome the "its impossible" situation.
"So- you wanna eat here only??... Chal thoda peg-sheg lagate hain. Thats the haemoglobin my body craves for.", said Amarbir.
"Sure. Whatever you say. I dont remember anything here. Everything has changed. I can tell you what is exactly where in Srinagar, Anathnag and Drass valley. But Delhi- Haha. Only if I could reach a cyber cafe....". And they talked as they entered, Attitude, a restro-pub in the heart of that shopping complex. Old monk was the choice for both of them. They sipped and talked. They were both avid drinkers and knew their limits. They also had the capacity and realised that they could spend days in this kind of a place. But- what the hell, who cares about over drinking -its two grown up childhood friends after all!!

After about 45 mins of Amarbir talking about how badly he was grinded in his sales job and about how he couldn't find a girl yet to marry. And about how he is bored of watching porn and wanted to get realistic and -well, old monk was starting to show up- about quitting drinking and non-veg after tonight. He asked Dilsher, " I've heard a lot of rumours about you. But i dont know what to believe. Its sort of skeptical- your character. Did you seriously rape that girl? I mean i'm just asking. I just think its time to clarify things. I need to know who i'm sitting with. I need to be acquainted with you." Dilsher, the 48 year old colonel was in deep need to clarify things. He could feel the weight on his mind and he knew that if he didnt talk tonight, he'd lose control and that it might change his life completely. Also, talking to his friend had many advantages. The first being, Amar was currently a drunk Punjabi- thats like saying a human being with no storage of memory throughout the night. Thereby making him dumping ground of the most confidential things possible. Also, Amar was very understanding and since there was nobody left in Dilsher's family, so Dilsher couldn't refuse Amar's offer. " Yes Amar! I realise it too. I'll start from the very beginning. Okay? Ab sun".
Amarbir obliged and Dilsher started- "As you know when we were kids, I wasn't given as much freedom as you were. Ma-papa, both died in a car accident and I came to Delhi to live with Dev chacha. And then we had lots of fun. What was it- class 1 to class 9 I think, nahin?". Amar nodded, " Yessir. That was it, my friend, the golden years." Dilsher continued, " And then, after 10th I was sent to Army school. And from there, UPSC exam clear karke, I was asked to fill my choices. You know- as everyone is asked. Army, navy, airforce, infantry, artillery etc. I did my dues. When the result was announced, I was among the top 15 of the 1,10,000 odd people who wrote the UPSC exam. My first choice was army and I got it.

Now, this is the funny thing. I was scheduled to go to Indian Military Academy, Dehradun in 3 days. Two day before my departure, I got a phone call saying I was supposed to reach army administrative office in Delhi cantonment by 4 in the evening. The voice specifically said, "Its not an option. Its an order. Ask for Field Marshall BEDI when you get here. 1600 hours tops. " And I didnt know if it was a prank or what. But then I thought, I'll check for myself.

So i reached there at about 3ish and asked for Mr. Bedi. I told the person at the reception my name. He imidiately cross-checked it in front of a printed paper and sent me in. Mr Bedi, a lean man. Stout in build. He had a nice, ironed green uniform and a sprawling office. Various medals and photographs were all over the room. Like everywhere... "Cadet Dhillon, please have a seat. Thank you for coming on such a short notice. Okay- so let me get to the point. You have excellent scores in your theory. Your, aptitude is magnificent. Now- what i'm going to say to you is confidential, please refrain form discussing our conversation". I was confused, but i agreed, " In all honesty- I shall do the same, sir".
"Good to know that. Okay, I Field Marshall Bedi, am also the director general of MI ". I suddenly got goosebumps. MI- if you dont know, amar, is MILITARY INTELLIGENCE. It is the intelligence wing of the Indian National Army. It contains a very few amount of people, the identities of whom are highly confidential. The work they do is of a lot of importance to the country. They have their sources. Also, sometimes the MI agents are expected to infiltrate other countries in fake identities. If they breach laws there- the government does not back them. They have no immunity. Their identities are changed. Spies, if you wanna call them.....
"And as the acting chief of MI, I am responsible for personally overseeing the recruitment of people in intelligence division. We need people whose brains are dynamic, who can think radically. People who can troubleshoot instantaneously. Looking at your scores, I think you are very apt for this job and so before you go to IMA, consider this as a new window. I shall give you 24 hours to decide. Two days later, either you'll be training for the army or the MI, its in your hands." He walked up to his window. His back at me. After a pause, rather long one, he said, " you can go now."

And i got up, adjusted the chair back to its position and walked straight out of the door". Excuse me. Restroom?", I asked. I followed the directions, went and splashed litres of water on my face. I didn't know what to do. Suddenly all this had happened. I went back home. And decided- MI shall be it. Next day nine O'clock I went to his office. I told him I will accept his offer. He smiled and said, " today evening at 5- your van will come. Be ready. And take minimal things. Your family members shall be told that you're in the army. Okay? Clear?".
" Yes sir. Although my parents expired and my chacha is supporting me only as a formality. I dont think, my family should be a problem." I said. " You answer me only what I ask you. Be crisp and precise. Learn it as soon as possible else you'll find it really difficult in our field. Now you may leave. Remember 5 today". I packed and time ran faster than Ussian Bolt. The van came and took me to- lets say, it was in the hills. I am still a part of MI and so still under oath. I can't disclose all such stuff. Its not that , I dont trust you Amar but you understand naa. However, the training was very difficult. They made us do things that you can't imagine.

Then I was assigned to various places. I was a part of the ELINT operations that were conducted with CIA and STOL in Himalayas to check on China's nuclear testing capabilities. I was also a part of operation Meghdoot when we were tipped off that even pakistan army had ordered Arctic- survival gear for its army members and so we quickly captured Siachen and saved another war. Operation Cactus, Kanishka bombings, Amalgamation of sikkim, Operation leech, Operation chanakya were some things that I worked on. Read on the internet about them, but just remember the inside story never comes out.....The assignment that changed my life was yet to come. In May 1999, we were tipped off about Pakistani infiltrators at Peak 5179, more popularly known as Kargil. The infantry and artillery divisions were on its way but side by side covert operations were also going on to combat Pakistani militancy. I was a part of operation Smiling Buddha.
We had three goals. first, to setup OP across MSR. OP stands for Observation Post and MSR stands for Main supply route. We were also expected to destroy the Pakistani Scud missiles. And last to be able to get the details about Pakistan's Kahuta nuclear plant. I was leading a team of 6 agents. Our company had 3 such teams. My call sign was bravotwozero.
Amar interrupted, "Yaar, ek aur old monk. Purani dosti ke naam"......
"Waiter, two large monk, ice seperate, soda and water. Jaldi" As they sipped on, Dilsher continued, "We were dropped off by Chinook CT5 helicopters at Rajouri, that is just off the border towards India. POK, that is Pakistan Occupied Kashmir is about 7 kilometres from there. Its practically the last Indian village. It was 2 in the night. I set my compass, used the usual measures to mark the drop off point and moved towards Pakistan. We were properly armed. More like military men although we had more more sophisticated weapons like LAW rockets. We established 7 OPs. Till about 5 in the morning, our first objective was over. We were supposed to get back in 17 hours. At about 8 in the morning, a shepherd was roaming about with his sheep for grazing. He spotted us. We were drinking water and waiting for the checkpost to be empty. The gunner was at the post constantly there. He hadn't moved. We were expecting him to go for a break or something so that we could make our move.
The shepherd smiled at us and went away. A fellow of mine, lets call him alpha-1 suggested that we were compromised. But we stayed where we were. The shepherd didn't recognize us. He thought we were Pakistanis and kept shut. Finally, the gunner left the gun at the check-post and we all smiled together because now we could secretly cross towards Kahuta. Just this one hurdle and we're bang on target. Unfortunately, to our surprise, the gunner was walking towards us. He was looking down and smiling to himself. We were behind a bush and the gunner probably wanted to take a leak. Before reaching us, he looked at his zip and reached out to open it until and then he looked up towards us. He became suspicious and so removed his Beretta 9 mm from his pocket and was still approaching towards us. We obviously would be compromised, if we couldn't divert him. It was impossible to fight a 9mm with a knife from a distance of roughly 10 metres. So- the only way we could survive is by shooting and that gunshot would make a noise, that would put us in danger. He approached a little closer. About 15 mts. Firmly held his beretta. Re-loaded it. Checked his bullets. I'm not sure, but I think he saw alpha-2's shoes and he fired a gunshot. It missed alpha2 but now we knew we were in for some danger. We open fired at him and soon there was complete pandemonium. Standard operating procedures, SOPs suggest that if we're compromised we go back to the drop off point and inform the nearest post on the radio so that we could be picked up and so we aimed at heading back. However we were actually going towards West Pakistan. We didnt realise it then. We thought were moving towards Kashmir. Soon we were surrounded by the Pakistani army. All of us shot and fought for about 20-30 mins, I dont exactly know. And then we were caught. We were sent to Pakistani camps for interrogation. And that is when you heard the rumours.

So- after the war was over, India returned Pakistani soldiers. However, Pakistan didnt. They told the government that we had murdered Pakistani civillians or raped them and other such allegations. These rumours spread. All defense people know that they are rumours. However, among the normal public- skepticism prevails. They think we were actually in such a rage that we did such actions. No! Its completely baseless. We're there to protect our country, not to ruin their's. I was in the jail for 4 years in Pakistan. For the first two years I was in a black cell. With a small window at the base for light. It was horrific. The kind of food they gave. The way the Pakistan prisoners treated us. They used to beat iron nails into our fingers and laugh. They used to put us on an inclined plank with our head down and legs up and then keep a cloth on our noes. On the cloth, they poured ice cold water. It is the worst torture. It feels as if a hammer is constantly hitting the inside of your head. They did it for hours. They didnt care if we would give them information or not. They wanted to harm us. It was terrible and drastic.

Pakistan relieved some of us in 2003 due to enforcement of the 4th Geneva convention. Indian agencies had setup a rehabilitation camp in the Drass valley. We were there for two years. They rejuvinated us and made us fit for being humans again. We followed strict rules and regulations. It was then that we came to know that India actually "Won" the war. And we wondered in awe. We thought how can we win something like this? Some 60 of us were there in the camp. And only 9 from MI whom i'd never met before. All anonymous faces.
Now, i'm posted here- in Delhi Cantt as an instructor of MI. Cant say more, confidentiality-you know.
So- that was about me. The changed life of me. I just cant stop thinking about the rehabilitation camp, about the Pakistan prison, about the moment when my ammo got over when the Pakistani troop captured me, about out tip-off about Kargil war, about my training of MI and mostly about my decision to join MI and not the Indian Army".

Amarbir was listening to him carefully. He gulped down his last sip and said, " Paaji, ek aur monk banti hai"
"Waiter! Ek aur bottle lao".
The waiter said it was 11:30 and that they were closing. Nothing else was availaible.

In disappointment, Amarbir asked for the cheque and volunteered to pay-off. Dilsher was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didnt realise where he was. He surely was feeling lighter. Infact he appreciated Amar's patience to listen to him right till the end. Life, he thought, was destined to take him to a better place. Suddenly, the impossibility of being a Delhi-ite was reducing. The cultural backdrop started echoing. He started enjoying the whole idea of being here and not being elsewhere.

"Amar, yaar- aaj toh feel aa gayi!.", he said as Amar signed the credit card receipt. As they walked down the steps of Attitude, they promised to meet again sooner to discuss various facets of life.
" Yaar, agli baar ladkiyaan discuss karenge.", said Amar trying to sound sober. He miserably failed.
"You'll manage by bike? I got a driver. Army ki gadi hai. I can drop you.", said dilsher.
" Naah- old habits die hard. I'll manage. I'm not drunk......No,no,no,no- I'm definately not drunk...." said Amar.
And they parted ways.

Today, two years later.Amar went back to fighting with his boss for promotion or an increase in salary. He met a girl in his office. They dated for a while and then without much ado got married. Dilsher was invited. They live in green park extension in a huge villa.

Whereas dilsher is still trying to fit in Delhi. He is still trying to find a way to overcome 'Pakistan'. He is still trying to find a reason to live. He is unsuccessfully justifying his right to exist. And it happens everyday.....

P.S.:- Please spend a minute in silence for all those who sacrifice their lives for our nation everyday since the birth of the Indian National Army. Its the least we can do to commemorate our reason for existence. Dont sympathize. Just respect. Plain simple respect.

P.P.S.- The above article is a work of fiction and any co-incidence to any person living or dead is purely co-incidental.

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.......