The sky was gearing up for a fresh dawn after a gloomy night of thunderous showers. The octogenarian Lieutenant was sitting in his arm-chair facing the rising Sun. For the past fourty years it had been his undeterred routine to sit on the terrace for at least one hour a day, his eyes always staring towards the east. His grandson, Vikram was standing behind him his nerved bulging out of his muscled skin ready to spring into action the moment the old-man beckons him to do something.
Besides the left-over density of the previous night’s rainfall, there was something else weighing down the air on the terrace. The clouds have already vacated the camp last-night but they have left a trace of mist in the eyes of the old-man. He seemed to carry a heavy load of emotion in his already burdened heart which is betrayed by the deep sigh that he unknowingly let go. The young man who has been weighing under the silence that surrounded him till then, caught hold of the sigh and hit it back with a hoarse whisper, “Why”.
It was so simple and clear that it didn’t strain even a single nerve to utter. It was whisper which would have in other circumstances got swept over by a chirping bird in the distance. However, owing to the silence that engulfed the place, the whisper was louder than any thunder that hit the skies the previous night. The lieutenant’s response was calculated. He took his own time to whisper back, “Will you change your decision if I answer you?”
“No”, sharp was the answer. The men were heavily burdening themselves with the long-gaps of silence that they are purposefully allowing to peep into their conversation. But the duo knew their game well. Words are costly and particularly in situations like these words once spent add up the opponent’s account. So, they stood still waiting for the other person to add up to their riches.
After what seemed an hour, the old-man silenced the silence around him with a gesture for his grand-son to sit before him. Vikram went around the chair and squatted on the floor in front of his grand-father, a posture he was trained to master since he was four years old. The lieutenant was looking straight into his eyes, the horizon imprinted on his eyeballs after years of continuous staring at its bisection.
“You want to listen to a story?” Vikram was no more a twenty year old grown up young man aspiring to join the national army. He was that five year old lad sitting with his grand-father listening to the tales of history, tales that came out of years of experience, tales that crossed the path of the old-man during his decades of journey of life. This time however, the tale that was revisited was from a long-forgotten island called childhood; A tale that the grand-father hid from his grand-children. As the lieutenant shifted his gaze towards the horizon, Vikram too followed suit, so as to walk into the invisible chapters from the past.
“That was the land, far beyond the mountains, crossing the streams and jungles, around 1500 km from here, where I first met Shaurab. It was one of those gloomy-nights when Shaurab and his family walked into our village. Their family was one among many other families who had been entering the village in a devastated state for the past few weeks. The village heads were arranging for food and shelter for all the strangers in the village hall and are working day-in and day-out talking to them about the situation beyond the borders. Our families were gloomier than ever. With the entry of each new family into the village, the situation grew gloomier in the debates.
“We may need to leave the place any time now”, was the only phrase that kept repeating every day. Those were the days when I felt sick with boredom.
That day however, as soon as I saw Shaurab, I knew I had company. He was holding a catapult in his hand and was looking unbothered about his torn trousers. I tried catching his attention but could not succeed given to the circumstances. The next day, I tried catching him unawares when he was sitting idly amongst the adults but was again found unsuccessfully owing to the circumstances. The following day, I gathered enough courage and walked into the village hall in search of him, when I received a jolt on my back. I turned around in anticipation and luckily it was him, already dragging me out of the village hall.
“Where are we going?” I asked him as we were crossing the fields. “To find food”, he said signalling with his shoulders that it was a useless question. “Why?” I repented much before I completed the question. As anticipated, I received a disgusting look for my stupidity and I took it in as a worthy punishment. I took time to frame my next question. I tried hitting around the bush, making a clear sentence that doesn’t look offended and finally managed to utter the single word, how. By that time, the answer was obvious, right in front of my naked eyes. Ripe mangoes were already falling to the ground hit by stones from the catapult. I stood staring at the accuracy that his young fingers had when his eyes shot back at me for the third time since we met, “Pick them up you idiot”.
I stumbled with myself to pick them into my kurta and after a failed attempt and another disgusting look, I ran around to find a deserted gunny bag to fill the mangoes with. After half an hour we were sitting on the river bank gulping down our loot, savouring the taste of thievery for the first time in my life. “My name is Shaurab”, he said after satisfying his hunger pangs. I then realised as an afterthought that we weren’t introduced till then but we have already grown a bond of friendship that takes adults years to nurture.
Within few days Shaurab erased the word called boredom from my life. He was the first person I saw early in the morning and he was the last person I bid goodbye to before I closed my eyes in the night. One day, the fateful day in my life or indeed in our lives, Shaurab and I were walking down the deserted stairs of the village well, deep into the darkest corners of the dried up base of the well. It was Shaurab’s idea that we explore the well. I was trained since childhood not to venture in areas which weren’t meant for kids to walk in. However since Shaurab’s entry into my life, many such ground rules were broken. We walked to the haunted house, climbed the banyan tree in the night, swam beyond the said limit, but somehow the well seemed more dangerous.
I tried pacifying him against the idea but he kept insisting upon it. So finally we made way down the stairs into the heart of the well. The well was so deep that it didn’t attract sun-light. As we stepped closer and closer towards the base, there was a dread of fear hitting through my throat. I slowed down in pace and awaited a signal from him to run away the moment he gestures. Shaurab increased his pace as we moved closer and suddenly he gave a shrill cry.
I closed my eyes in instant reflection and after what seemed a lifetime, opened them slowly to find Shaurab gone. My immediate instinct was to run away but somehow I managed to muster enough courage to walk towards the base. If he had been engulfed by something then I deserved the same. Calling out all the names of the Gods I have known, I stepped down as if in a state of trance. I was struggling with my foot at the last step when a face peeped in from the wall.
“What are you waiting for? See what I found”, Shaurab was obstructing a long passage which was built through the walls into the ground beyond. I stood their transfixed. The sole torch that we brought with us wasn’t efficient enough to light the entire passage but it did give us a fair idea of what it all meant.
Secret passages were known to exist in every village as emergency doors of exit. Where and how the passages took individuals was however an unsolved mystery to the contemporaries. Shaurab was trying to walk into the passage when I suddenly remembered something from my grandmother’s tales. “The secret passages are like mazes. If you don’t walk through the correct corridor, you find yourself in a situation where you can never return to your starting point”, I still remember her patient warning and the horror filled eyes of my cousins as we heard the tales. I immediately suggested against the idea of exploring the passage while Shaurab was adamant on going further. I finally brokered a truce with him saying that we shall walk through the passage only if it has no branches cut through it. Shaurab agreed and there we were walking through the dark passage, me waiting for a diversion to take him back and he feeling the cold walls with wonder.
It took us around half-an-hour to reach a dead end. No branches, no side-tracks, it was a clear dead end. Shaurab tried splitting open the wall in front but in vain. He shouted and yelled in disappointment and it took me quite some time to soothe his pain. As we walked out of the passage he had another doubt. He ran outside as if possessed and by the time I reached the mouth of the passage there he was smiling at me showing his all grown-teeth to my bewildered persona. He enjoyed the look on my face for quite some time and finally increased the flame in his torch. As the torch started illuminating the base, I gaped at the passages that came into sight from all four directions of the well. All the passages looked similar and no great expertise can help a person in deciding the directions that the passages took.
Shaurab picked up a stone and started marking above the passage that I stood in. He was a born-expert at the art of mischief-making. It took another week for us to cover two more passages. As we walked out of the third passage, Shaurab was so insisting on exploring the last passage too. It took me great strength of determination, to pull him out of the well before the end of the afternoon siesta of the elders. Off late, they are trying to keep a watch on the kids. Our movements were observed and we were asked not to venture out of the locality.
That night I had no sleep. Though I feigned disinterest the passage also invited me with open arms. It was only a sense of responsibility that I felt towards the words of the elders that made me fight back the will to walk into the fourth passage. If none of the others had a route then that means the fourth passage was the right branch. I was lost in my thoughts of exploration and new discoveries when hushed voices were heard in the living room. I walked to the living room in a dull state but what I saw there woke me up in a start. All the elders of our locality were assembled in the centre with their eyes betraying tension.
“All transportation means are under watch. We can only think of a hide-out right now”, the head-man was saying.
“But what if they find us?” Kamal kaka expressed doubt
“Let’s hope that they don’t find us”, there was a feel of doubtful optimism in the head-man’s voice.
“Does anyone know a suitable hide-out?” the question was met with silence.
Few answers sprang out after some thought and deliberations among the adults ruled away all the possibilities brought forward. I don’t know where I got the courage from but I suddenly walked to the centre and said that I had a hideout in mind. The situation was so grim that the adults had no time to discriminate on the basis of age. May be my heart already knew it, so I clearly mentioned the passages in the dry well and the last-available chance of us finding a way out, something better than a hideout. The plan was discussed upon and within no time I had a whole set of twenty families walking behind me with their lanterns and their children lightening and brightening the way ahead.
It took me half-an hour to reach the well and as I traced my steps down the stairs, my heart started skipping beat in intervals. Every time I got down the stairs, it was Shaurab who directed me from the front. I so badly missed his presence and the confidence that he instilled in me always. All lost in the thoughts of our ripening friendship, I traced along the passages to find the right one. The fourth and the only passage left to be explored. If the passage had a channel then that shall give us a way out. Else, we at least have enough space to accommodate twenty families for one night. The thoughts kept reeling in my mind as we walked along the passage.
It felt like a life-time walking through the passage. After around one hour of walking, I knew that we were successful. The other passages ended at exactly twenty minutes of walk. But what if this passage left us in a maze of passages after travelling for such a long distance? The thought kept repeating as I tried pushing it out of my mind. The eerie silence of the passage was the most alarming thing. Its silence was occasionally broke by a shrill cry by an infant or a yelp from a woman who accidentally tripped over a rock. The cries were again hushed by the rest. Walls had ears and the inmates were highly conscious about it.
It took us two days to reach the other end of the passage. By then all our resources were exhausted and the look on our faces was of strain and devastated. As we climbed the dark staircase of what seemed to be another well, the stinging pain of sun-light made us cry in pain and joy at the same time. There were also speculations about us returning to the same well after such a long journey. However, the speculations were proved wrong as soon as we reached the nearby village. We have fortunately landed in the right place, the region that accommodated people of our clan.
We were welcomed by the villagers with sympathetic looks. Arrangements were made for our stay and we were absorbed by the villagers just like Shaurab’s family was absorbed by our village. It took me one week to adjust to the new conditions. I was given special treatment by the men of my clan. They called me the hero of their expedition and highlighted my presence of mind in every tale they retold about our travel through the dark chambers of the passage. The day I could muster some courage, the first thing I did was to walk to the well. I knew Shaurab would take an expedition along the left-out passage and I was all prepared to surprise him with my presence. I had many sleepless nights dreaming of our reunion but the dreams never came true.
Slowly I immersed myself into the village politics to divert my attention. It was then that I understood that there were two countries formed out of one on religious grounds. The land that I once belonged to does not accept my clan and the land that I am living in now does not accept Shaurab’s clan. As the information seeped in, I started growing a sense of patriotism within me. This land is my mother land and it got split because of the ruthless men out there in that part of the once united nation. I joined the national army to give a helping hand to my country to fight the forces on the other part and finally unite the land-mass. With vengeance I walked into the army camps and got trained in all war-techniques and strategies.
It took my ten years to grow into front-face army personnel. I took part with fervour in the war that broke-out between the sister-countries in which I received an award of excellence for hoisting our national flag on the opponent barracks. Soon after the war, I resigned and since then I struck to this arm-chair weighing down by the burdens of the harsh-reality that I wanted to hide from the world. Life however never lets you live in peace; rather it gives you a chance to die in peace. This is my opportunity to reveal the long-hidden secret of my life and here I am pouring it out before you.”
Vikram has changed his position to that of a sincere student. His legs were brought close to his chest and his face dug between the knees. He was eagerly waiting for the old-man to complete.
“That day, as I rushed to the barracks holding the national flag in one hand and the rifles in the other, I saw a face looking at me from the barracks. He was holding a similar rifle as mine but was somehow transfixed to the floor. I looked at him, reloaded my rifle in a wink, shot at him, rushed past his sinking body, hoisted the flag and as my mind relaxed, I realised something was amiss in the situation. I walked back in my mind and replayed the incident. It all happened in a wink of a moment but the second I understood what I did, I knew the regret shall stay with me throughout my life. With trembling steps I walked back to the man I just killed and as I gently lifted his dead face into my lap I lost consciousness.
The moment I woke up, I was in the army health camp fastened to the bedpost with saline bottles and IV needles. It took me one month to recover. As I closed my eyes, his dead eyes stared back at me in shock. In a start I would wake up and find myself regretting the act once again. How could I kill the man who was the only friend I had since childhood? I spent the rest of my childhood imagining Shaurab beside me. I would discuss my ideas with his virtual self and decided upon a solution if I think he agrees to it. All my life I lived in dreams of reunion with him and the moment I got a chance I killed him. I killed him because he was an enemy to me. He was an enemy according to the national standards. He was an enemy whose discovery saved twenty families from riots. He was an enemy who deliberated upon individual and national interests even in times of war. And there I was, the dumb-fool following the rules of war shooting across every single head that pops in from the other side just because the side that it popped out from was in a different colour.”
“The lieutenant continued with his flood of words that he had been saving in his mind for the last thirty years. Vikram moved closer to him and held his hands to stop him from going hysteric. As their eyes met, the Lieutenant had just one statement to make and it was, “War is where patriots die and lawmakers loot. If nationalism is a noble thought then Global brotherhood is a nobler thought when compared to it. To attack and to defend the nation against an enemy you need to know who the enemy is. There is no concept called enemy. It is all about enmity. Kill the enmity and the enemy dies instantly”.
Besides the left-over density of the previous night’s rainfall, there was something else weighing down the air on the terrace. The clouds have already vacated the camp last-night but they have left a trace of mist in the eyes of the old-man. He seemed to carry a heavy load of emotion in his already burdened heart which is betrayed by the deep sigh that he unknowingly let go. The young man who has been weighing under the silence that surrounded him till then, caught hold of the sigh and hit it back with a hoarse whisper, “Why”.
It was so simple and clear that it didn’t strain even a single nerve to utter. It was whisper which would have in other circumstances got swept over by a chirping bird in the distance. However, owing to the silence that engulfed the place, the whisper was louder than any thunder that hit the skies the previous night. The lieutenant’s response was calculated. He took his own time to whisper back, “Will you change your decision if I answer you?”
“No”, sharp was the answer. The men were heavily burdening themselves with the long-gaps of silence that they are purposefully allowing to peep into their conversation. But the duo knew their game well. Words are costly and particularly in situations like these words once spent add up the opponent’s account. So, they stood still waiting for the other person to add up to their riches.
After what seemed an hour, the old-man silenced the silence around him with a gesture for his grand-son to sit before him. Vikram went around the chair and squatted on the floor in front of his grand-father, a posture he was trained to master since he was four years old. The lieutenant was looking straight into his eyes, the horizon imprinted on his eyeballs after years of continuous staring at its bisection.
“You want to listen to a story?” Vikram was no more a twenty year old grown up young man aspiring to join the national army. He was that five year old lad sitting with his grand-father listening to the tales of history, tales that came out of years of experience, tales that crossed the path of the old-man during his decades of journey of life. This time however, the tale that was revisited was from a long-forgotten island called childhood; A tale that the grand-father hid from his grand-children. As the lieutenant shifted his gaze towards the horizon, Vikram too followed suit, so as to walk into the invisible chapters from the past.
“That was the land, far beyond the mountains, crossing the streams and jungles, around 1500 km from here, where I first met Shaurab. It was one of those gloomy-nights when Shaurab and his family walked into our village. Their family was one among many other families who had been entering the village in a devastated state for the past few weeks. The village heads were arranging for food and shelter for all the strangers in the village hall and are working day-in and day-out talking to them about the situation beyond the borders. Our families were gloomier than ever. With the entry of each new family into the village, the situation grew gloomier in the debates.
“We may need to leave the place any time now”, was the only phrase that kept repeating every day. Those were the days when I felt sick with boredom.
That day however, as soon as I saw Shaurab, I knew I had company. He was holding a catapult in his hand and was looking unbothered about his torn trousers. I tried catching his attention but could not succeed given to the circumstances. The next day, I tried catching him unawares when he was sitting idly amongst the adults but was again found unsuccessfully owing to the circumstances. The following day, I gathered enough courage and walked into the village hall in search of him, when I received a jolt on my back. I turned around in anticipation and luckily it was him, already dragging me out of the village hall.
“Where are we going?” I asked him as we were crossing the fields. “To find food”, he said signalling with his shoulders that it was a useless question. “Why?” I repented much before I completed the question. As anticipated, I received a disgusting look for my stupidity and I took it in as a worthy punishment. I took time to frame my next question. I tried hitting around the bush, making a clear sentence that doesn’t look offended and finally managed to utter the single word, how. By that time, the answer was obvious, right in front of my naked eyes. Ripe mangoes were already falling to the ground hit by stones from the catapult. I stood staring at the accuracy that his young fingers had when his eyes shot back at me for the third time since we met, “Pick them up you idiot”.
I stumbled with myself to pick them into my kurta and after a failed attempt and another disgusting look, I ran around to find a deserted gunny bag to fill the mangoes with. After half an hour we were sitting on the river bank gulping down our loot, savouring the taste of thievery for the first time in my life. “My name is Shaurab”, he said after satisfying his hunger pangs. I then realised as an afterthought that we weren’t introduced till then but we have already grown a bond of friendship that takes adults years to nurture.
Within few days Shaurab erased the word called boredom from my life. He was the first person I saw early in the morning and he was the last person I bid goodbye to before I closed my eyes in the night. One day, the fateful day in my life or indeed in our lives, Shaurab and I were walking down the deserted stairs of the village well, deep into the darkest corners of the dried up base of the well. It was Shaurab’s idea that we explore the well. I was trained since childhood not to venture in areas which weren’t meant for kids to walk in. However since Shaurab’s entry into my life, many such ground rules were broken. We walked to the haunted house, climbed the banyan tree in the night, swam beyond the said limit, but somehow the well seemed more dangerous.
I tried pacifying him against the idea but he kept insisting upon it. So finally we made way down the stairs into the heart of the well. The well was so deep that it didn’t attract sun-light. As we stepped closer and closer towards the base, there was a dread of fear hitting through my throat. I slowed down in pace and awaited a signal from him to run away the moment he gestures. Shaurab increased his pace as we moved closer and suddenly he gave a shrill cry.
I closed my eyes in instant reflection and after what seemed a lifetime, opened them slowly to find Shaurab gone. My immediate instinct was to run away but somehow I managed to muster enough courage to walk towards the base. If he had been engulfed by something then I deserved the same. Calling out all the names of the Gods I have known, I stepped down as if in a state of trance. I was struggling with my foot at the last step when a face peeped in from the wall.
“What are you waiting for? See what I found”, Shaurab was obstructing a long passage which was built through the walls into the ground beyond. I stood their transfixed. The sole torch that we brought with us wasn’t efficient enough to light the entire passage but it did give us a fair idea of what it all meant.
Secret passages were known to exist in every village as emergency doors of exit. Where and how the passages took individuals was however an unsolved mystery to the contemporaries. Shaurab was trying to walk into the passage when I suddenly remembered something from my grandmother’s tales. “The secret passages are like mazes. If you don’t walk through the correct corridor, you find yourself in a situation where you can never return to your starting point”, I still remember her patient warning and the horror filled eyes of my cousins as we heard the tales. I immediately suggested against the idea of exploring the passage while Shaurab was adamant on going further. I finally brokered a truce with him saying that we shall walk through the passage only if it has no branches cut through it. Shaurab agreed and there we were walking through the dark passage, me waiting for a diversion to take him back and he feeling the cold walls with wonder.
It took us around half-an-hour to reach a dead end. No branches, no side-tracks, it was a clear dead end. Shaurab tried splitting open the wall in front but in vain. He shouted and yelled in disappointment and it took me quite some time to soothe his pain. As we walked out of the passage he had another doubt. He ran outside as if possessed and by the time I reached the mouth of the passage there he was smiling at me showing his all grown-teeth to my bewildered persona. He enjoyed the look on my face for quite some time and finally increased the flame in his torch. As the torch started illuminating the base, I gaped at the passages that came into sight from all four directions of the well. All the passages looked similar and no great expertise can help a person in deciding the directions that the passages took.
Shaurab picked up a stone and started marking above the passage that I stood in. He was a born-expert at the art of mischief-making. It took another week for us to cover two more passages. As we walked out of the third passage, Shaurab was so insisting on exploring the last passage too. It took me great strength of determination, to pull him out of the well before the end of the afternoon siesta of the elders. Off late, they are trying to keep a watch on the kids. Our movements were observed and we were asked not to venture out of the locality.
That night I had no sleep. Though I feigned disinterest the passage also invited me with open arms. It was only a sense of responsibility that I felt towards the words of the elders that made me fight back the will to walk into the fourth passage. If none of the others had a route then that means the fourth passage was the right branch. I was lost in my thoughts of exploration and new discoveries when hushed voices were heard in the living room. I walked to the living room in a dull state but what I saw there woke me up in a start. All the elders of our locality were assembled in the centre with their eyes betraying tension.
“All transportation means are under watch. We can only think of a hide-out right now”, the head-man was saying.
“But what if they find us?” Kamal kaka expressed doubt
“Let’s hope that they don’t find us”, there was a feel of doubtful optimism in the head-man’s voice.
“Does anyone know a suitable hide-out?” the question was met with silence.
Few answers sprang out after some thought and deliberations among the adults ruled away all the possibilities brought forward. I don’t know where I got the courage from but I suddenly walked to the centre and said that I had a hideout in mind. The situation was so grim that the adults had no time to discriminate on the basis of age. May be my heart already knew it, so I clearly mentioned the passages in the dry well and the last-available chance of us finding a way out, something better than a hideout. The plan was discussed upon and within no time I had a whole set of twenty families walking behind me with their lanterns and their children lightening and brightening the way ahead.
It took me half-an hour to reach the well and as I traced my steps down the stairs, my heart started skipping beat in intervals. Every time I got down the stairs, it was Shaurab who directed me from the front. I so badly missed his presence and the confidence that he instilled in me always. All lost in the thoughts of our ripening friendship, I traced along the passages to find the right one. The fourth and the only passage left to be explored. If the passage had a channel then that shall give us a way out. Else, we at least have enough space to accommodate twenty families for one night. The thoughts kept reeling in my mind as we walked along the passage.
It felt like a life-time walking through the passage. After around one hour of walking, I knew that we were successful. The other passages ended at exactly twenty minutes of walk. But what if this passage left us in a maze of passages after travelling for such a long distance? The thought kept repeating as I tried pushing it out of my mind. The eerie silence of the passage was the most alarming thing. Its silence was occasionally broke by a shrill cry by an infant or a yelp from a woman who accidentally tripped over a rock. The cries were again hushed by the rest. Walls had ears and the inmates were highly conscious about it.
It took us two days to reach the other end of the passage. By then all our resources were exhausted and the look on our faces was of strain and devastated. As we climbed the dark staircase of what seemed to be another well, the stinging pain of sun-light made us cry in pain and joy at the same time. There were also speculations about us returning to the same well after such a long journey. However, the speculations were proved wrong as soon as we reached the nearby village. We have fortunately landed in the right place, the region that accommodated people of our clan.
We were welcomed by the villagers with sympathetic looks. Arrangements were made for our stay and we were absorbed by the villagers just like Shaurab’s family was absorbed by our village. It took me one week to adjust to the new conditions. I was given special treatment by the men of my clan. They called me the hero of their expedition and highlighted my presence of mind in every tale they retold about our travel through the dark chambers of the passage. The day I could muster some courage, the first thing I did was to walk to the well. I knew Shaurab would take an expedition along the left-out passage and I was all prepared to surprise him with my presence. I had many sleepless nights dreaming of our reunion but the dreams never came true.
Slowly I immersed myself into the village politics to divert my attention. It was then that I understood that there were two countries formed out of one on religious grounds. The land that I once belonged to does not accept my clan and the land that I am living in now does not accept Shaurab’s clan. As the information seeped in, I started growing a sense of patriotism within me. This land is my mother land and it got split because of the ruthless men out there in that part of the once united nation. I joined the national army to give a helping hand to my country to fight the forces on the other part and finally unite the land-mass. With vengeance I walked into the army camps and got trained in all war-techniques and strategies.
It took my ten years to grow into front-face army personnel. I took part with fervour in the war that broke-out between the sister-countries in which I received an award of excellence for hoisting our national flag on the opponent barracks. Soon after the war, I resigned and since then I struck to this arm-chair weighing down by the burdens of the harsh-reality that I wanted to hide from the world. Life however never lets you live in peace; rather it gives you a chance to die in peace. This is my opportunity to reveal the long-hidden secret of my life and here I am pouring it out before you.”
Vikram has changed his position to that of a sincere student. His legs were brought close to his chest and his face dug between the knees. He was eagerly waiting for the old-man to complete.
“That day, as I rushed to the barracks holding the national flag in one hand and the rifles in the other, I saw a face looking at me from the barracks. He was holding a similar rifle as mine but was somehow transfixed to the floor. I looked at him, reloaded my rifle in a wink, shot at him, rushed past his sinking body, hoisted the flag and as my mind relaxed, I realised something was amiss in the situation. I walked back in my mind and replayed the incident. It all happened in a wink of a moment but the second I understood what I did, I knew the regret shall stay with me throughout my life. With trembling steps I walked back to the man I just killed and as I gently lifted his dead face into my lap I lost consciousness.
The moment I woke up, I was in the army health camp fastened to the bedpost with saline bottles and IV needles. It took me one month to recover. As I closed my eyes, his dead eyes stared back at me in shock. In a start I would wake up and find myself regretting the act once again. How could I kill the man who was the only friend I had since childhood? I spent the rest of my childhood imagining Shaurab beside me. I would discuss my ideas with his virtual self and decided upon a solution if I think he agrees to it. All my life I lived in dreams of reunion with him and the moment I got a chance I killed him. I killed him because he was an enemy to me. He was an enemy according to the national standards. He was an enemy whose discovery saved twenty families from riots. He was an enemy who deliberated upon individual and national interests even in times of war. And there I was, the dumb-fool following the rules of war shooting across every single head that pops in from the other side just because the side that it popped out from was in a different colour.”
“The lieutenant continued with his flood of words that he had been saving in his mind for the last thirty years. Vikram moved closer to him and held his hands to stop him from going hysteric. As their eyes met, the Lieutenant had just one statement to make and it was, “War is where patriots die and lawmakers loot. If nationalism is a noble thought then Global brotherhood is a nobler thought when compared to it. To attack and to defend the nation against an enemy you need to know who the enemy is. There is no concept called enemy. It is all about enmity. Kill the enmity and the enemy dies instantly”.
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