'KARGIL's VICTORY DAY'-A FARCE ON MARTYRDOM?

It was early morning of July 26 , 2009. Col RS was busy doing Swami Ram Dev's Yoga exercises. He has been doing this ever since he left the army in 2003. At about 6 AM, he got a call from his neighbor, Mr Ajit shukla, a defence accredited journalist with a TV News Channel.
Ajit Shukla, " Good Morning, sir. A very very happy VIJAY DIVAS"
Col RS: Sorry, VIJAY DIVAS is a FARCE. I don't celebrate it. Thank you, anyway.
Ajit: This is very interesting. Why don't you? After all it is to remember those brave soldiers who laId down their lives for the nation.
Col RS: What has the nation done for those over 589 soldiers who gave their lives?Just 153 gallantary medals for some lucky guys, whom media projected. That's all. What about the rest? All these 10 years, no one has bothered to even visit the poor widows of Kargil Martyrs. There is a political party which does not recognise the valour of soldiers in the Kargil-99. It says that Kargil was not their doing. So, its leaders say why must they recognise the valour of those fallen soldiers? How about those UNKNOWN soldiers who are missing since 1971? Wasn't the 1971 war the doing of this party? Does this party remember those who fell during a war unleashed by their party. So like bureaucracy even SOLDIERING IS ALSO SOUGHT TO BE 'COMMITTED'---i.e-- those who fought 'MY PARTY's' war and those who fought 'THEIR PART''s' war. The problem in my country is that the SOLDIER's ACTS OF BRAVERY HAVE BECOME A PING PONG GAME OF THE RULING ELITES. It is NOT an occasion to celebrate but CRY aloud for such whimsical thoughts.
Ajit : The posture of this political party is sad. I feel sorry that martyrdom is being politicalised.
Col RS: Politicized? It is being COMMERCIALIZED, too. They make movies and serials on these so called acts of bravery of soldiers. Crores of rupess are paid to actors who do the copy cat role of those gallant soldiers! Do they give a single paisa to the war-widows or the affected families? On the soldiers acts of dare-devilry, they fill their pockets. They promise so many things when the heat of the war is on---but they forget soon thereafter. Such celebrations are mere annual rituals for the political speeches----hollow statements by hollow men.
Ajit: Still it is an occasion to remember the good deeds of our soldiers, sir. I am sure you would do that.
Col RS: Yes, it is an occasion to remember our soldiers who gave their lives for the nation and I do it silently. I do NOT CELEBRATE but I ATONE THEIR DEATH FOR AN UNGRATEFUL NATION.
Ajit: There is a lot of rancor and venom in you. Is there a personal reason?
Col RS: When you command troops, their safety and welfare is always a personal reason, Ajit. Our units and sections are families. We do not 'manage' soldiers we 'lead' them. But you won't understand this?
Ajit: I would like to, if you kindly narrate the complete story.
Col RS: Yes, I will. Come over.
Ajit Shukla was there at Col RS place exactly at 9 AM. He was keen to listen to the story and then let it go on the air by his channel. He knew such controversies lead to an upward trend in the TRP ratings. He was sure going to do the story on this. And he did it. Ajit had aired the story exactly at prime time (9PM) on the same day. The story on the UNSUNG, UNHEARD & UNKNOWN HEROS of KARGIL was a hit with the viewers. It was filled with a lot of melodrama. Statements of some martyr's relatives were incorporated to narrate their tales of woe which included unfulfilled promises by the government and some NGO's too. It was a hour long story. On popular demand, it was repeated again at 11 PM the same night. Ajit had, as is the habit of journalists, dramatized the original story. But it still had some 50- 60 percent truth in it. Afterall even fiction is based on some real life incidents.
Col RS , when he heard this story on the ATTV, he was stunned. He knew he was taken up the garden path by his journalist neighbor. He had made it really very spicy. Col RS was being projected as a super Hero, which he detested. He was getting continuous calls from a lot of people for the facts mentioned in the News Channel story, which did not exist. He was aghast but he was the hero--so he had to accept unwanted felicitations he was getting from all and sundry. From an UNSUNG and UNHEARD persona nongrata, heretofore, he had become an instant hero exactly 10 years after the episode. He did not know whether to curse or thank Ajit Shukla. He went back into a flash back and his mind narrated to him the true story again.

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Officiating Commander, Col RS, collected his special team in his operational room for the very important mission. News of intrusion by Pakistan trained militants in Kargil had trickled into Army circles. In the beginning of May 1999, it was all a hush-hush affair in the army. Civilians had yet not got the real wind of it. Every commander in the valley thought that it would be a small affair and it could be ignored. Therefore,most commanders were waiting for the things to happen. But COL RS had planned a special mission to disrupt the NEELAM VALLEY ROAD opposite Keran sector. This road was the lifeline of Pakistan army in FCNA. He knew the importance of this mission. If executed successfully ,it could cut off the the supply route of intruders into Kargil. Also, he thought it could isolate the INTRUDERS in Kargil from their lines of maintenance and communications. To do so, it was very important to go across the LC and blow up the DUDHNIYAL Bridge on the Neelam River (Known as KISHAN GANGA RIVER in Indian parlance).
Intrusion in KARGIL allegedly by Pak sponsored militants had mixed impact on the commanders. Some dismissed it as an annual ritual by Pakistan. They all thought that it was a small intrusion, like the earlier ones at 'Guthur Forward' in Keren sector and 'Lunda' in the Gurej sector. It was normal with Pakistan to do this nibbling act at the end of every winter season. Unfortunately, army authorities had been keeping mum over these intrusions and accepting it on the quiet. This time, it was inferred that Pakistan had done it in Kargil. This segment of commanders thought that it was a small intrusion and the intruders could be thrown out in 48 hours, if their logistic supply was cut. Col RS had other plans.He had planned a special mission on his own. Some others thought it was time to teach a lesson to Pakistan. Col RS, officiating Commander, of an Infantry brigade on the LC, was one such radical hawk. His commander was on leave and he had got this opportunity.
It was in this context that Col RS had personally selected all the officers and men. There were 60 volunteers but he picked up only two officers, two Junior commissioned officers( JCOs) and 12 other ranks (ORs), which included some NCOs( Non Commissioned Officers) and sepoys. All of them were physically tough and mentally robust. They were known for their raw courage. All of them had displayed it in a number of operations they carried out against the militants. There was none amongst them without three to four 'Kills'.
Lt Rohtas Singh of 22 Sikh had the highest number of 'kills', some nine of them. He was a youngman of 23 years and passed out of IMA only in June1998. His team leader Major Vikram Singh 10 JAK RIF was another hard core expert on anti-terrorist operations. Once in a hand to hand fight with Afghan militants near ISMAIL DI DERI feature on the Shamshabari Range, he had bayoneted two Afghans, despite having been wounded in the right leg. Havaldar Suresh M Subramanayam of 27 MADRAS was another dare devil. He had once chased a group of militants for some two kilometers on the Shamshbari range---a high altitude area with heights above sea level being some 13-14000 feet.. He killed one and captured one alive. What to say of Subedar Bansi Lal of 4 JAT? He had led missions across the LC, a number of times and raided the militants hide outs in the village ATHMUQAM (Chak---in the Indian context).
Col RS, Officating Commander, had briefed his men thus: " Gentlemen! This might be your ONE WAY TICKET TO HEAVENS. Those of you, who are chicken-hearted, are welcome to pull out." He paused to see the response. There was a unanimous response by the team in a chorus, "NEVER MIND, SIR!"
Col RS briefed them of the task and connected issues. He explained to them that the demolition of 'Dudhniyal Bridge' will cut off the intruders from RATTU CANTT in the FCNA which was the launch pad for Pakistan's nibbling act on the LC after every winter. This had been happening since 1990. He had emphasized that his intentions were not only to isolate the intruders but to go beyond the LC to dominate this bridge so as to disrupt enemy's line of communications in the Gilgit, Hunza and Baltistan areas. Therefore everything depended on the success of their mission.
Major Vikram had made only one request, " God willing, we will carry out the task. Either we will all come out alive or we will all die. In the latter case , may I request you , sir, that our bodies must be retrieved and last rites performed as due to each one of us."
Col RS had said, " Vikram, this is NOT war---you can not die in enemy territory. You have to all come back, dead or alive, after you have completed the mission. May god be with you".
Vikram : Sir, I have not understood your point of this being NO WAR. When they can come into our territory and play havoc with our people, what prevents us from calling this as a war. To me, who is leading a team across the LC, it is a war, sir"
Col RS: Yes Vikram, to you and also to me it is WAR but people on top do not understand this This is why they have OFFICIALLY NOT given me the permission to carry out this task. I am to take my own initiative and act upon the counsel of my professional judgment. I have decided to act even if it is NO WAR. It is the risk I am taking.
Vikram: sir, it is fine as long as you approve of this. God willing we will carry out the task.
Col RS: Vikram, remember, you must bring back all the members of your team, whether dead or alive. No one to be left behind. Let me not see the past being repeated. I remember the KAYIAN BOWL incident of May 1972 when soldiers of 9 SIKH became prey to friendly gestures by Pakistan army which led to a major intrusion by them under our very nose. When it was detected 4 MAHAR was launched to eject them---and the battalion got butchered in a SILENT ATTACK by us because it was supposed to be NO WAR. Pakistan army had prepared for this over months---they had built up the strength to a battalion---where we thought was only a Company had intruded. I suspect a similar thing might erupt in KARGIL. But the bosses insist it is not to be an act of war because of peace talks initiated at Lahore on 20 February 1999. So your mission is a covert operation.
Vikram: In that case, I still request please retrieve our bodies , if we fail to come back. I do not want to be buried in some unknown place. I expect this favour.
Col RS: you don't have to request Vikram. This is my duty. I will do everything at my command to do you the honour.
With these words, Col RS had bid farewell to the team. They left for their start Point at Rang Dalu feature.
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It was 10 PM on May 6, 1999. The team left Rang Dalu base camp. Col RS was in communication with the team but he had asked it to maintain total radio silence, to be only broken on code word "NIHAYAT' in case of emergency faced by the team.
Team had made a good progress during the night. They had reached their selected base camp without much hassles. They were to lie doggo the whole day. The act of demolition was to be carried out around midnight 7/8 May 2009.
At 10 PM on May 7, the team was getting ready to go for the task, when a long column of some ponies was seen heading for their camp. The sentry had alerted them. The team quickly vacated the camp and withdrew some 100 meters to the left. The column of ponies was actually a group of some 35 armed men in civilian dress. They column halted at the same place. However leader of the group got suspicious. He started looking at the tell tale signs of the presence of vikram's team. It was clear to Vikram that they were some regular army men who were dressed as militants. He alerted his men to be ready for the fight. His team was well placed.
Vikram was right. The enemy soldiers had begun the search. The search teams of enemy were just 50 meters away from his place when Vikram asked his men to open fire. Thus the fire fight began. The ponies ran helter skelter. Vikram had seen some six to seven of the Pakistani group falling to ground. But he knew he would be outnumbered soon . Therefore, he asked his men to disengage and move back to Rang Dalu feature.
He had also broken radio silence and was in contact with Col RS. He told that three of his men were wounded and one from 7 MADRAS was killed. Lt Rohtas and Havaldar Suresh M subramaniyam were missing. He promised to bring them all back. Col RS asked him to abandon the mission and head straight back. He also promised him that a rescue team led by Major Rajpurohit of 10 JAK RIF would meet him below the Rang Dalu feature.
By 10 AM on May 8 2009, every one was in but for Lt Rohtas and Havaldar Suresh M Subramaniam. Major Vikram had brought about four AK-47 rifles which he had picked up from the dead Pakistani soldiers.. He had also brought one pony with them on which they had carried the dead body of Sep Ranjit singh of 10 JAK RIF. Col RS asked Major Rajpurohit to stay at Rangdalu and wait for the two some for another day. But nothing happened. There was no alternative and both were declared missing/ dead.
It was 8 AM in the morning on May 11, 2009 when a haggard local bakarwal reached the brigade headquarters and in formed them that two Indian army men lay exhausted near a Baihik below Rang Dalu .
A rescue team was rushed in. They were sure Lt Rohtas and Havaldar Subramaniyam. Both were wounded. But they were carrying with them a large number of explosives and seven AK 47 rifles which they had collected from the scene of engagement with the militants. Rohtas had also some diaries and written material in URDU.
It turned out they had come across a regular army group of Pakistan army which was headed for Gurej sector. In the guise of militants they were to occupy a vacant feature to dominate the road from Rajdhan Pass to Gurej. Rohtas also informed the officiating commander that in the fire fight some eight militants alias Pak soldiers were killed and rest ran away.
Col RS was not happy because his planned mission had failed but he knew it can happen in any situation. He got the satisfaction that he had thwarted a well planned mission of Pakistan Army---------though by default. He recommended Rohtas and Subramaniyam for Ashoka Chakra and Kirti chakra, respectively. He made recommendations for awards to others members of the team also.He was sure they would get it.
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15 August 1999. Gallantry awards were announced by the government of India for the WAR LIKE SITUATION in KARGIL. There were some 153 awards announced. There were FOUR PVC. There was none for the brigade of COL RS. To rub the salt on his wounds, he was given Northern Army Commander's Commendation Card for this operation which was never executed. He felt ashamed on taking credit for someone else's bravery. But he knew that it was very common amongst the senior officers to take the credit for the jobs done by their subordinates.
He was particularly touched when he met Maya Rani mother of the dead soldier Ranjit Singh. She was crying for her son because he was the sole bread earner of the family. She revealed to him that her husband had died in the 1971 war. She did not want all the money but her son back. Col RS felt guilty and responsible for this stupid operation which he had planned. The wailing mother made him think of the many mothers who lose their sons in such skirmishes. Is it worth to die like this and leave your near and dear ones high and dry? Mrs Maya Rani told him of the fake promises made to her by the Government and the army when her husband had died in the 1971 war. She was promised a petrol pump but was never given. She was clear that nothing would be given now also.
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10 January 2002. Col RS was deployed for Operation Prakaram in the Jammu sector. He remembered the case of late Sep Ranjit Singh of 10 Jak Rif and his mother Maya Rani. He knew the village was near MUTHI DAMANAA. He went in search of her. He inquired in the village. He was told that Maya Rani had got Rs 10 Lakhs from the government. Her brother came and took her away. She gave all the money to her brother and his sons. A year back she was thrown out by the nephews after the death of their father. Now she lived as a beggar near Raghunath Temple in Jammu town.
Col RS also saw a SEPOY RANJIT SINGH Statue errected in the village. He was told the statue was created by the district administration for Rs two lacs. But this was the money which was due to Maya Rani from J&K state government. He saw stray cattle relaxing next to the statue and some animal dung lying all around it.
Col RS was disgusted. He realized the falsehood attached with the gallantry awards and the lofty words spoken on these great days. He decided then and there to shed his olive green and never be fooled by the fake glory that goes along with it.
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This was the story he had given to Ajit Shukla. But Shukla had turned it into a Block Buster. He talked of the intelligence picture built by Col RS on the likely infiltration of a column of Pak army- --------selecting a team of dare devils to intervene and ambush this team of 35 hardcore trained soldiers with just 12 men---------personally monitoring the progress of the operation-----there was no mention of the real operation planned----------he further glamorized Rohtas and Subramaniyam's acts with lot of hand to hand fights with the militants and what not. ------Shukla had ended with questions: if the bravery of these men is to be left non-honoured? He had emotionally blackmailed people. Same thing happens on all the se so called BIGDAYS SUCH AS 'VIJAY DIVAS'---politicians and NETAS bemotionally blackmail people----they ask people to contribute monetarily ---while none of these rascals pays from their own pockets---not even 50 paisa---check records of their donations--------Col RS was feeling small----------after all truth is always a causality when glamor takes over. TV channel was interested in enhancing its TRP------Col RS was getting the KUDOS, uncomfortable but still accepting it ------ but what about that BEGGING OLD WOMAN MAYA RANI , near Raghunath Mandir ? Will she get the food tonight ? If so, then this will be her victory---her VIJAY DIVAS---rest all is a farce---whether the day is celebrated at DRAS or DELHI----Whether some UPA minister attends or some retired General talks big from the podium-----it is all meaningless nuances-----Nothing is going to change Maya Rani's plight? If you really want to change her plight: Go feed her at Raguhnath Temple---if you can find her---if she is NOT already dead.

© rajee kushwaha., all rights reserved.

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DEMISE OF 'FATHER' OR THE ADVENT OF 'STEM CELL DONOR'-A SHORT STORY!

Sanket was attentively listening to the TV news report on creation of artificial male sperm in the laboratory by a team of scientists from New Castle University of England and ‘North East England Stem Cell Institute’. The report had claimed that the male sperm was created artificially in the laboratory from a stem cell taken from the arm of a man. This sperm could be injected in the women to fertilize an egg, thus cutting out the requirement of male partner for producing a child. Sanket began to wonder on the social implications of such a child. Did it mean the end of the institute of marriage? Is it the demise of the word ‘father’? What would be the status of children born from such artificial male sperms? Will they be called ‘bastards’? As he was pondering about it, his phone began to ring.

It was a long distance call to Sanket from his younger brother, Sandeep in Chandigarh, India where he was working with PGI as a junior doctor, after completing his internship there. Sandeep and his mother had been staying in Chandigarh after Sanket had left for USA in the year 2005. Earlier they had lived at Ludhiana with their mother. They had come to Ludhiana from Delhi in 1995, after their father had suddenly left them.

Sanket replied, “Hullo, yea, Sandeep. What’s up? What is this news about artificial male sperm?”

Sandeep: It is a latest revolution in human reproduction. In times to come, the word ‘father’ will bloody disappear from the human dictionary.

Sanket: Don’t be so rash with your judgment. It has got a lot of moral, ethical and social repercussions on society.

Sandeep: Damn these moral and social ethics, brother.

Sanket: Any way—forget it. What else is happening?

Sandeep: Nothing much except that same old thing----that lady had come”

Sanket: Which lady---oh --- our Step mom---what does she want?

Sandeep: She was pleading to get Mr. Satish admitted in PGI for treatment.

Sanket: Come on Sandeep. Don’t call him Mr. Satish---after all he is our father.

Sandeep: No brother, I don’t think I would ever accept him as my father-----He is no more than a bloody ‘stem cell donor’--------to me he will remain Mr. Satish.

Sanket: Relax Sandeep. Cool down. Show some compassion.

Sandeep: No brother—not for this ‘baaaastard’------never.

The word ‘bastard’ sent an electric current through Sanket and he was in flash back--------He was no more replying to Sandeep---------after some hullo- hullo at the other end the phone was disconnected----------Sanket had got lost in his thoughts.

He remembered the 27^th day of September 1995-------he did not see his father that morning at home. He also recollected the incident of the previous night which had led to his father leaving home. That midnight- squabble of his parents was agonizing. Sanket was disturbed—terribly disturbed that night. He was just 14 years old, then,—just two years elder to Sandeep, his younger brother. He knew his parents had decided to break up. He had heard them saying so.

However, what disturbed him more was the fact that his parents were not legally married. He was astonished that they had been staying together for so many years without any formal relationship. A number of uncomfortable questions had risen, then, in the young mind. What would be their fate? What was their status in society? The young mind was puzzled. “Would they call us bastards”, he had asked himself. He had clearly heard the conversation of his parents in the dead of the night. Even today the conversation of his parents was echoing in his ears-----he could recollect----------

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“I had trusted you always, till you------”, she moaned.

“Trust was mutual as long as it lasted.” he thundered.

“But you became unfaithful first.”

“You were no saintly lady. I made a mistake. You made a mistake. It is quits”

“No, Satish, life is not a zero sum game. We ought to have behaved responsibly.”

“Well! We had a relationship based on mutual understanding. We were two grown up adults. We knew what we were doing.”

“But, if you had not started being unfaithful I won’t have done what I have done.”

“There are no, ‘ifs’ and ‘buts’. It has happened the way it had to.”

“Is this the end?”

“Oh, sure this is it. We break up.”

“You will go with her.”

“Why should it be your concern as to where do I go and what I do?”

“Just wanted to know because we had lived together for 16 years”

“Forget it. Do not make me emotional.”

“Dammed, we have two grown up kids. It is for their sake. Can we re-consider?”

“I will take the responsibility if the children want to stay with me.”

“They are your responsibility, Satish, you are their father.”

“Stop this crap, Sanjana. We were not married. They were born out of our living together. I do not know the legal position but I do take this stance that they ought to stay with me if I have to shoulder their responsibility.”

“Rubbish---just rubbish—don’t call my children ‘bastards’------after 16 years it occurs to you that to be a legal father one ought to have been married.”

“Sanjana, I told you I don’t know the legal position but the fact remains------it was you who insisted on having children----I just accepted it. I love them. But they must leave you if I have to bear their responsibility.”

“No, it will not happen. I can look after them-----I am financially independent-------you go---go to hell------.” So saying Sanjana slammed the door of the bedroom and walked away.

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Sandeep’s call had opened the old wounds. Unlike Sandeep he did not hate his father. But he did not understand as to why their parents didn’t marry each other. It baffled him that they could live together for 16 years and produced children without getting married. Indian society had not approved of such siblings, then. Even now, he thought, it was very hard to see social respectability given to children born through such ‘live-in’ relationships, unless of course the mother was a financially independent woman. He would invariably pose some questions to himself: What happens to the children deserted by fathers whom mothers can not financially support? Don’t they live under the shadow of some kind of a social stigma, still?

Sanket also wondered as to how his mother and father took this daring step in the late seventies of the last century. It was against all social norms, then. Was it love that brought them close to each other? Had love faded in 16 years? If love fades, is there no binding force which could keep the ‘live-in couples’ together? Is marriage this binding force? Is society a ‘Human Farm’ without the institute of marriage? All these questions, often, swarmed his mind, whenever he thought of his parents.

At least, they could stay together for children’s sake. But there was no social contract for this life long affiliation. He thought his parents followed the rules of the Animal kingdom. It hurt him always when he saw other kids of his age happily growing with their moms and dads. As a grown up person, he had understood that after sometimes both had become unfaithful to each other because there urges were selfish. He contrived that their very reason for coming together had become the cause of their separation. He realized that social living demands certain social restrictions and compromises.

But if you live for yourself, there are no rules you will follow. Children could have been the binding force but his dad had some other overpowering reasons. What were they? He had not known till then. His mom had tried this but his father had decided to move out. What made them fall apart? Was it the ‘other woman’? Mom had once told him that her name was Anjana. She had never, thereafter, talked much about her. Sandeep used to abuse her but mother never said anything. Sanket, though, did not like her but he never held her entirely responsible for his family’s ordeals. Today, after being emotionally charged up, he decided to talk to her.

He rang up Sandeep and took the mobile number of his so called step-mom. He rang her up.

“I am Sanket speaking from Chicago in USA”, he introduced himself.

“How are you son?” A sophisticated voice greeted him.

“Well! I want to check up the condition of my dad. I leant from Sandeep that-----------------.”

“He is not well. He is seriously sick. He remembers you all. He feels guilty about it.” Anjana spoke in a dignified voice

“Remembers us? Feels guilty? Then, why did he leave us? Even after mother died, he never contacted us.” Sanket said in an emotion choked voice.

“We tried to contact you but you people had left Delhi in November 1995. We too shifted to Chandigarh in 1996. It was by chance I had met your mother in PGI in November 2005, when she was admitted there. She was badly sick. I had taken Satish for a medical check up. It is then; we learnt that your mother and Sandeep were also in Chandigarh. By the time I came back with Satish to meet her again, she was dead and gone. We contacted Sandeep but he refused to even see us.” Anjana, the step-mom, had replied.

“Auntie, I want to ask you a personal question---don’t you think you have broken up our happy home? Aren’t you feeling guilty?” Sanket fired the salvo.

“Son, sometimes truth is bitter, very bitter----absolutely bitter---perhaps you don’t know the truth. It might be other way around. It was your mother, Sanjana, who was the ‘other woman’. Satish and I were happily married since 1973. We were a happy family with a son and a daughter. But then, Sanjana came into Satish’s life in 1979 and he left us. I had pleaded with your mother for my own children’s sake but she did not listen to me.” Anjana clarified.

“Oh, my god!?Then why did you accept him back?”Sanket shot back.

“He is my husband. He was the father of my two children. It was the question of my own family. He had accepted his mistake and apologized for the same.” Anjana said.

“How about your children, auntie? Were they happy on his return?” Sanket queried.

“No, they did not like his return? In fact they were angry with me; they continuously fought with me till they stayed with us and never returned emotionally to me after 1995. They never spoke to their father as long as they stayed with us. Suneeta, our daughter, got married in 1997 and never visited us again. Her brother left for USA in 1999 and never came back. ” Anjana said in a choked voice.

“Where are they, now?” Sanket asked matter of factly.

“Suneeta is married to a Software Engineer and living in New Jersey USA. My son, Priya Kant, is also in USA but I am not sure, where?” Anjana gave the information.

“Thank you auntie”, so saying Sanket had disconnected.

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Sanket was engrossed in his thoughts when his boss, Ahmed Nissar (AN) Project Manager, entered his cabin. Ahmed was some 10 years older than Sanket. He was from Pakistan; he had never been to India, though he claimed his parents belonged to some village near Nawanshahar in Indian Punjab. Ahmed was a very popular project manager in the company, ‘e-Bay’. He had got US citizenship recently and had also acquired a new home. He saw Sanket in a very serious mood.

Ahmed: What’s wrong? You seem to be down.

Sanket: Nothing much. Just a small family problem.

Ahmed: Family problem? You said that you have only one younger brother. Your parents have been dead. I suppose your mother had died in 2005 and your father had died in 1995. Am I correct? Both of you are unmarried as yet. Which family you are talking about?

Sanket: Partially, yes you are correct, Ahmed.

Sanket then told him about his father and the story of his family and extended family.

Hearing this, Ahmed was silent for a minute and then said, “Very strange story. Anyway, I had come to invite you for dinner with us tomorrow. You know we want to celebrate our US citizenship and also the new house I have bought. Some other friends are also coming. Do come over. And get over with this feeling soon. You are in USA and not India. Don’t feel guilty about your parentage. It was none of your fault. In USA, we find such things very common. We, from the oriental societies, unnecessarily worry for these obsolete social moralities. The world is getting INDIVIDUALISED. Social moralities of the past must adapt to the Individualized world or be discarded altogether. Society is as good as its people; so are its norms. What you call social stigma is a thing of the past.” On this note they parted company.

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Ahmed Nissar had a big house in the outskirts of Chicago. He had been living in Chicago for almost 10 years. He had bought this house for three million dollars only two months back. He was very hospitable at home. All his subordinates and his peers knew about his hospitality.

His wife Shamima, a graceful and a dignified lady, was an excellent cook and she had prepared many dishes. She was a second generation American and had married Ahmed when he was doing post graduation in computers in Stanford University. Her father was a professor in the same university and a known mathematician. Shamima was the only child of her parents, who had emigrated from Pakistan in 1972.

Ahmed and Shamima had married in 2000. No one had attended the marriage from Ahmed’s parent side because they had been long dead. Shamima’s parents were disappointed but Ahmed had hidden the truth about his family. When, after the marriage, Ahmed told his father-in-law about his family background, Professor Anwar Husain was furious. He wanted the marriage to be dissolved but Shamima stood by her husband. This had earned her not only deep respect from Ahmed but he began to display blind faith in her judgments. It was an unshakeable and a deep-seated mutual trust and confidence between the two.

As a boss of some 150 employees, Ahmed was very friendly to all his subordinates. He was easily approachable and displayed personal rapports with each of his subordinates. He not only knew them by name but also knew their family histories. He did not lead his team by remote control but through personal touch. In so doing, he often invited people for dinner at home.

July 17, 2009 was one such occasion when he had organized a party at his home to celebrate his US citizenship. He also called it HOUSE WARMING UP for the new house he had acquired. The party started exactly at 1900 hours.

The party was going very fine. Sanket had been enjoying his drinks. He was talking to an American, Steve William, when Ahmed came and remarked, “Steve has a step brother working with us, and you know Sanket, both of them are very good friends.”

Sanket: Oh, I see. Is it Steve? Who is he?

Steve: Oh, he is Larry Jenkins. He is here. I will call him.

Ahmed: They can meet later. But do you see that guy just behind us?

Steve: Yes, the man in red shirt---I know him ---He is PK.

Ahmed: Yea, he is related to Sanket. He is his step- brother.

Sanket: What? PK? My step brother? This ‘baaaastard’ is Priya Kant?

There was a tap on Sanket’s shoulders and some one was saying, “Yes, this bastard is Priya kant.”

Sanket turned around and saw Priya Kant.

Sanket was stunned. But PK said, “Ahmed has told me everything, you bastard---Don’t feel guilty----our father was a victim of his lust---as anyone of us can be---but I won’t pardon him. Would you?”

Sanket was quiet---he did not say anything---he did not want to say anything---he still carried the guilt of ‘Other woman’s Son’. He was not feeling well---“There was still a lack of social legitimacy to my birth” he thought.

He held not only his father but also his mother a victim of her lust---he would perhaps not pardon his mother for this. He suddenly blurted out to PK, “I might pardon my father but I will never pardon my mother for this stigma I carry. She had known that father was married yet she------------------------and then she--------------------------.” He left it half said.

Ahmed: come off it you two! Get over these negative emotions. The world has changed many times over. What would happen to Children born without the father? Will you call them bastards too? Social or religious norms are for a particular time period. They must change with the changing times. The societies and civilizations which don’t keep with times, they decline and disappear into the black hole of times. Move on.”

Steve: Yea, well said Ahmed. May be, I ought to visit India or Pakistan to understand the cause of such a social stigma. Here we have no such ill-wills towards our parents. May be our society is different.

Ahmed: yea, we are socially different but those differences are fast disappearing. We are becoming a globalised society---where only global norms would apply. Do I care, now, though my mother was from famous HIRA MANDI of Lahore? I don’t know who my father was. I can not keep crying with this stigma. But my mother catered for all my needs. It was fine. Who is bothered for that wretched person who came for a few minutes pleasure and impregnated my mother?

Sanket: you mean your mother was---a prosti------tute?

Ahmed: Oh yea, “Hira Mandi’ is the famous Red Light Area of Lahore. I spent my child hood there. Anyway---it has no meaning today. I have everything in life. I rub shoulders with all those dignified people. So, why should I carry the baggage of my stigmatized parentage on my sleeves? In any case the role of a father in a family is no more seen as the sole bread earner? In the future, I see him no more than a ‘Stem Cell Donor”. Mothers are equally adept at that, who, like my mother can give the best to their children. Move on man, 21^st century is well on its way.

Sanket: So, do I see the end of the road for the word ‘Father’? Would it have no meaning in a technologically advanced but a globalised society of tomorrow?

PK: This is the hint. We will all become, as Ahmed has put it--------mere ‘Stem Cell Donors’. No more; no less.

Sanket: So, ‘Father’ is dead; long live the ‘mother’—the ultimate giver of life. Well! Then, I am relieved of my guilt consciousness. My dear mom weren’t you the pioneer of this emerging society? I hail my mom.

PK: So, you see these 'sperms' will be sold in the market, may be in the medical stores, initially. The ladies will come and select.
Sanket: You mean they will be traded like anyother commodity. Ladies will say, ' Give me this bastard PK's sperm or that lanky gentleman 'Steve's sperm' . Right Pk?
PK : Exactly like this, you thick headed 'other-woman's son'. But no one will call them a 'bastard', like they call you.
Sanket: Shut up, PK.
PK: You started it---you shut up.
Ahmed:OK, friends! Let us disengage from this topic. What do you say Steve?

Steve: It is getting hot though it is a very amusing conversation. I think we are going too far into the future. Let us revert from the time matrix. Let us hail ourselves into present times. We must move on now. It is getting close to midnight.

They all said in a chorus, “Oh, yea.” Sanket was little angry with PK but controlled himself for the time being. Shamima had sensed it.

The effect of liquor was obvious on their slurring tongues. They were all getting dead drunk and Shamima knew they were getting closer to their real instincts---the animal instincts. She knew they could any moment show their true animal worth, if they continued to discuss like this. She could see the next stage of debate and discussions developing into a street brawl as most drunken men get involved into in all such parties. She told Ahmed to cut it out. It was the hint.

It was time to go. The party was over.

© rajee kushwaha., all rights reserved.

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CREEPER !

O' ye 'creeper', thou have no bones,
Reason, ye can't rise on your own;
Fine, you make a 'wall' look a gem!
Alas! you need the support of a stem.

No doubts, you add to outdoor's beauty,
But no one needs you inside,dear sweetie!
You do give company to the 'gate- keeper',
For, isn't it your total worth, dear 'creeper'?

Thou do hide the ugliness like cosmetics do,
But as you creep the walls,house owners rue;
You do expand like a nuclear chain reaction -
A thing of beauty becomes cause of distraction.

Sometimes you grow on walls of 'ruins',
You rot there because of your own 'doings';
What a graet irony, you rely on those walls--
Who devoid of strength, would invariably fall.

Often, many venomnous insects live on you,
Ye hide them in your foiliage from sun and dew;
As the autumn comes, they shall all disappear,
You will die but no benficiary would shed tears .

I know, I know they say plants, too, have lives-
But what is life's worth if it has no self -pride?
We do have amongst humans your brand too-
"Human creepers", also, need crutches like you.




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Slighting words turn simple folks as demon.!

Slighting words turn simple folks as demon.


Pen, they say, is mightier than the sword-
Its misuse,however,society can not afford;
Swords cause no harm until used by men --
Slighting words turn simple folks as demon.

Pen is great, if its mission is love and peace,
It energizes people to achieve awesome fetes;
The ideas it generates lead to great inventions,
As multiple minds explore different dimensions.

If one goes through history, one is amazed-
How pen had brought about social changes?
Karl Marx's writings heralded new concept-
The world was soon by communism swept.

Words play havoc when laced with sarcasm,
Forget the enemy, even friends will have chasm;
We might recollect the cause of 'Mahabharta War-
A 'Duryodhna' got incensed at 'Draupadi's" remark.

"Blind man's son must be blind", Draupadi did say,
The seeds of devastating war were sown that day:
Death and destruction, then, followed very soon,
War of the 'cousins' became people's misfortune.

Pen are more harmful than the sword's duals,
Word not only causes conflict, also, hatred it fuels;
One ought to be very careful while using the pen,
For, it might hurt some, while you do write as fun.

One might write to booster communal harmony,
Or one writes to turn them into ferocious enemy;
In case of peace, swords remain sheathed for ever,
In latter's case, when pen drops, swords take over.

Sword, as a weapon, depends upon physical force,
Pen needs no strength but thinking mind, of course;
Sword, dear 'rajee', has only purpose of destruction,
While pen can usher growth or seeds of perplexion .

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I WOULD ALWAYS SAY WHAT I WANT TO SAY!

I might not be right, neither so bright-
But in expressing self, I'm forthright;
I have a steeled mind, not feet of clay-
I would always say what I want to say.

If I'm wrong I've the courage to accept,
For, did I ever claim I'm a man perfect ?
I believe in god though I might not pray-
As I would always say what I want to say.

I don't live in past, I move with times-
As glory of yesterday is history's rhyme;
But moral values I would never betray-
As I would always say what I want to say.

Influenced by the tenets of alien culture-
Sex & money grace our social structure;
In sheep's clothing, roam wolves of today-
This is my belief, this is what I would say.

Fathers rape daughters, sons kill mothers,
Adultry is so common, you think and shudder;
Self-promotion, by all means, is order of the day-
Why shouldn't I say what I always want to say?

Crime against women is today on the rise,-
But women only abet this nasty enterprize;
From dowry deaths to daughters going astray-
I hold women responsible, this is what I say.

Be decent and graceful is philosophy of my life,
I would like to be respectful even in my strife;
And " RAJEE" is a soldier, not scared of affray-
Convince him if you can, "sorry", he would say.

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HALF WRITTEN LETTER FROM A SOLDIER!

“SUMAN—I LOVE YOU DEAR.” –A HALF WRITTEN LAST LETTER!

“Sir, the boy is a mental wreck! He must be immediately pulled out” Major Yavesh pleaded with his Commanding Officer (CO).

“I can not do this. There is no replacement from his regiment.” Was the quick response of Colonel VK Ahluwalia?

“Please, sir, the boy has been there since 10 September 1986. It is now 20 February 1987. It is more than six months. You know it, sir; no one can survive here for more than 90 days. Also, the formation HQs orders are also to relieve everyone after 90 days. Get him down, please.” Yavesh was begging.

“Listen, Yavesh, I can not help it. He is an Arty (ARTILLERY) OP (Observation Post) officer. He can not be pulled out without a proper relief. I spoke to his CO (Commanding Officer). He says that it was difficult for him to provide the relief.” Colonel VK Ahluwalia explained.

“How ridiculous, sir? The officer has deserted his post and he has come down to me at SIALA complex. He is crying like a baby. He was to get married in November 1986. But Operation TRIDENT was in the offing and he was held up. He was promised that he would be sent on leave in January 1987. But nothing happened. His second date of marriage was 12 February—it has gone, too. His fiancée has written a threatening letter. Please pull him out on humanitarian grounds” Major Yavesh vehemently argued for Captain SONI.

“I do understand this. But I can not have the risk of having a forward most post of SIACHEN GLACIER devoid of an arty OP. I am sorry send him back to his place.” Col Ahluwalia was crisp.

“Sir, he just refuses to go back. All my motivational talks have failed. I, too, feel he was somehow on the wrong end of a stick due to his differences with his CO” Major Yavesh retorted.

“Yavesh, do you want to plead his case because he was an EX-NDA guy like you. What is your service gap? 15 years? Do your job as told. Tell him to stop behaving like a sissy. Ask him to be a man. And stop this crap.” The CO commanded.

This was shut up call for Major Yavesh. He did a loud thinking and then blabbered out, “Yes, sir. Point conceded. But may be, you could speak to COMMANDER on this. He is not in the mental state to stay any longer on this glacier.”

****************************************************************************

In the coldest winters of 86-87, Major Yavesh Rana, along with his Company was located at SIALA complex of SIACHEN glacier in the GREAT HYMALYAS. This glacier is the second largest glacier in the world. It is 106 km long and some 5-6 kms wide at its waist. Siachen means “THE VALLEY OF ROSES”. This lies in the NORTHERN KASHMIR on the borders of INDIA, CHINA, AFGHANISTAN, and even Pakistan, though obliquely.

SIALA COMPLEX is the NORTHERN most point on SIACHEN, touching INDRA COL on the Chinese border. It is here, the famous WAKHAN CORRIDOR joins India with Afghanistan and CHINA. At the snout of the GLACIER is the base camp, where the HEADQUARTERS of the military unit, looking after SIACHEN area, is located. The Base camp height is 12000 feet. NUBRA River starts at the snout of the glacier on the base camp. It later drains into INDUS River in POK. The foot journey from the BASE CAMP is over the most treacherous and hazardous terrain, with chunks of whiteness all around you. There is no trace of soil and vegetation all through your trek. It takes almost 5-6 days; if weather is clear, to reach SIALA from the BASE CAMP.

The normal temperature at SIALA is always around minus 30-35 degrees. It is on a height of 20,000 feet. The area is heavily fractured, full of crevasses and ICE MASTS and ‘ice-over-hangs’. The weather here is unpredictable. It snows here for days on. Blizzards are very common with wind speed touching some 200 miles per hour, tearing everything apart that stands in its way.
It is very difficult to stay here. You can not shave, you can not bathe. You do not eat, despite the richest food being made available. You can not go for Nature’s CALL with ease. Rarified air makes you exhausted over 500 meters. People feel breathless very often. You hardly get to sleep. In the initial years, the men stayed under the Parachute shelters, which used to get buried 10-15 feet below snow every day. Ration supply was through the air drop on sunny days on a drop zone (DZ) some 2-3 kms away. It used to take 3-4 hours, one-way to traverse this distance. Every time you went to the DZ, you will lose one or two men to the vagaries of the terrain. Despite all the precautions, men would go down in the crevasse, never to come out alive.
The causalities here were more because of weather and terrain than enemy action. Mail used to come through helicopter sorties. Some one had calculated that one CHAPATI that a man ate on the glacier,in those days, cost the exchequer around Rs 80. The daily cost of maintaining soldiers there, in 1987, was around 2-3 Crores. It might be at least 15 times more, these days, say around 10000 to 12000 Crores every year. And they say you need only 28000 Crores for the entire GOLDEN QUARDLATERAL PROJECT!

Generally, people go mad staying here. Many lose their vital limbs. Many never come back. Many remain frozen in the deep crevasses for the GEOLOGISTS and ARCHAEOLOGISTS of the future to write thesis for their DOCTRATE DEGREES as to how men could venture into such inaccessible areas in the beginning of the second millennium? I reckon in the year 3009 AD or so, many people would claim greatness for unfolding of the mysteries of this human madness. But that is 1000 years into the future. Today, if the stay is beyond 90 days, it sure does turn one into a psychic case.

Major Yavesh had known this. He had come here in November 1986, some two months later than Captain Soni. He was himself expecting to be pulled out because he had stayed for almost 120 days. An Ex-NDA officer, with 16 years commissioned service to his credit in 1987, YAVESH was a known ‘toughie’ in his outfit. His men referred to him as ‘HITLER’; his colleagues called him a ‘Bully’. But he, too, was seemingly cracking mentally. Widely read man, he well understood the meaning of the need for obeying military orders, once given. No cribs, no dissidence. No emotional outbursts; right or wrong, just carry out the orders.

******************************************************************************************************

“Captain Lal, please examine Captain SONI and send him with escort to Mortar Position”, Major Yavesh directed his medical officer, after he had failed to seek expatriation of Captain SONI to the BASE CAMP.

“I will examine him alright but I do not think he will go, sir.” Captain Lal had given his opinion.

“Ok. We will try and convince him together. Call him to your tent (a parachute shelter).” Yavesh sounded logical.

It was around 1400 hundred hours. The weather was very bad. It was snowing. The visibility was not even two feet. A strong wind, around 150 MPH, was blowing. The orderly, who had gone to fetch Captain SONI, lost his way and never returned. It must be said the distance was only 10-15 meters.
When even after an hour, there was no news from Captain SONI, both Major Yavesh and Captain Lal, set out to meet him in his shelter. The whole area was covered with snow. No shelter could be seen. Even their own shelter was under 10-12 feet of snow. The drill followed was that one must keep shaking the tent so as to dust off the snow; otherwise one would get buried under its mounting weight.
After 40-45 minutes in the open, both of them saw Subedar Ash Nandan Singh trying to locate them. He told the duo that Captain SONI was in his tent and he was crying. It seemed the orderly had told him that he had to go back. Major Yavesh decided to meet him and give a pep talk. Both of them went to JCO’s tent. This is how the conversation went:

Yavesh: Soni, come on man, you are a tough guy; do not cry like a baby.

Soni: Sir, I want to go home. It is too much I haven’t been home for last 18 months. I was promised by my CO that I would be sent in February.

Yavesh: I know. But these things happen. You see he can not find a relief because of the preparation for some operation TRIDENT. (They hadn’t known, then, that it had been called off)

Soni: No sir, I can not stay any longer. I have a HUNCH THAT I WOULD DIE HERE ONLY.

Yavesh: Do not be negative. You are an Ex-NDA guy; you should not behave like a coward.

Soni: Please send me home. I will die here otherwise. (He started crying loudly and took out a letter from his fiancée, called SUMAN, and threw at Major Yavesh).

Soni: Please read this. She says that I have let her down. Her parents want to break the engagement because LIFE IN ARMY IS UNCERTAIN. I DO NOT WANT TO SERVE IN THIS ARMY. WHAT FOR, SIR, IF I LOSE MY LADY LOVE? (HE STARTED SLAPPING HIS FACE with both hands. Captain LAL and SUBEDAR ASH NANDAN Singh caught him to prevent him from doing this.) Major Yavesh glanced at Suman’s Letter. It was full of pleas to come back at the earliest. She had exhorted him to leave this profession if he can not even get leave to get married. It was a real touchy letter and Yavesh did not know what to do.

“What do you want me to do, Captain Soni, I tried my best”, asked Major Yavesh.

“Sir, let me desert; let me run away.” Captain Soni had said instantly.

“Come on kid, you can not make it even to the base camp alone. It is 110 Kms treacherous journey over 5-6 days. The weather is also bad. ” Yavesh advised.

“Send me in the ‘Mail Helicopter’ to Base camp. Thereafter I will make it to AHMEDABAD (in GUJRAT) on my own”, Captain Soni made a suggestion.

“Ok. We will see it tomorrow.” Yavesh decided to cut short. He told the JCO to keep the officer in his tent for some times. But Subedar Ash Nandan Singh informed that Capt SONI had been stinking since morning as he had been answering to nature’s call in his pants only. Yavesh asked Captain Ram Lal to get him cleaned up and park him in his own tent. Having said so, Major Yavesh moved out.

By now it was 5 PM. Weather was as bad as it was in the afternoon. But the winds had reduced its intensity. Around 45 minutes later, Captain LAL too joined him in his tent. Both of them discussed the case. Captain Ram Lal’s conclusion was that Captain SONI was under a deep trauma. If he was not evacuated he might do something funny. At about 7 pm Sky was clear wind had stopped blowing. A bright moon had lit up the sky. It was a beautiful scene. Subedar Ash Nandan came for the evening report. He apprised Major YAVESH that Captain SONI had been continuously crying in his tent. At times, he was yelling like a mad person. Suddenly, Major Yavesh shot a question, “Is the sky Clear?” Lal and Ash Nanadan almost said in a Chorus, “Oh, EK DUM (TOTALLY)”

“Right, I have never disobeyed orders in life but if the chopper comes tomorrow morning, this guy goes without relief” Major Yavesh was now emotional.

“Sir, why do you want to risk your career for him?” Captain Lal had advised.

“Doc, sometimes career has to go when human compassion overpowers you. I have made up my mind, he will be made to desert”, Yavesh let out a philosophical answer.

****************************************************************************

It was 6 A.M. in the morning on 21 February 1987.

It was otherwise a clear blue sky except a small patch of clouds over the TIGER HILL—a hill made of hard ice mast. Yavesh hoped that the patch of cloud over the TIGER HILL would not spoil his plans for the day, because it was always from this direction that clouds come with snow fall. He was hoping to execute his plans with the help of weather gods. This was the time for the daily report to be given to his HQ. The signal operator had already brought the radio set for the company commander to give the OK report to his CO.

“How’s the weather, Tiger?” the CO roared on the other side.

“Fine, ‘one five’, but for this patch on the TIGER HILL?” Yavesh replied.

“OK, I hope it remains clear till 8-9 A.M so that I could push in a chopper with your mail and some fruits. How long it has been since you got the fresh vegetables?” CO inquired.

“Thanks sir. You are very kind. It is almost 10 days back we had got the ‘fresh” Yavesh said in gratitude.

“So, how is friend Soni? Did he create further trouble while moving out?” The CO wanted to know.

“He is fine. He was depressed, though”, Yavesh hid the fact that SONI had not been dispatched to MORTAR POSITION. If he had done that then, all hell would have broken lose.

“Is everything else fine?” The CO expectantly shot.

“Yes, sir”, the reply by Yavesh was also reflective.

“OK, then, all the best for the clear weather”, with this Colonel Ahluwalia signed off.

“Hey, doctor! Please, wake up. The heptr is coming.” Major Yavesh excitedly shook Captain Ram Lal out of his sleeping bag.

“Good sir, congratulations” said Captain Lal.

Captain SONI, when told by the orderly and Sub Ash Nandan, his eyes get lit up. But he is yet not sure if he would be allowed to leave. He had told Subedar ASHNANDAN, “Sahib, MERE LIYE YEH SAFED CHADAR KI ZANEEN KALA PANI JAIL HAI. Main shayad hi nikal payoonga. MAGAR AAPKA ‘MAJOR SAHIB’ CHAHE TOH MUJHE NIKAL SAKTA HAI. KYA WOH KAREGA? (Oh dear, this ICY SHEET OF WHITENESS IS A CELLULAR JAIL FOR ME. I might not get out of this ever. But If your MAJOR wants he can get me out of this. But would he?)

******************************************************************************************************

Time 07.33 A.M. Date 21 February 1987.

SIALA is beginning to get covered under the pitch dark clouds. Visibility is there up to 1500 meters. Wind is blowing at a medium pace but it seems a BLIZZARD is in the offing. Major Yavesh is on his radio set screaming, “Sir, push in the chopper, now. In next 30-40 minutes it will be all snow over here."

“I will try, I’ll try. Keep your fingers crossed.” Ahluwalia was assuring him.

***************************************************************************************************

Time 07.53 A.M. Date 21 February 1987.

'KUMAR' COMPLEX Tiger, Major Bharat Singh, comes on the air. He informs Major Yavesh that choppers were returning to the base camp, as weather had packed up. He however gave the hope that in case it cleared by afternoon, the choppers might come back with the ‘FRESH’. He further cheered him by saying that he had taken the mail of his company. He also told him of two letters Yavesh had got from his wife. He made an offer to open and read it to him. But Yavesh politely declined, though, this at times, was the common practice in SIACHEN Glacier, when weather packed up for days on.

******************************************************************************************************
Time 07.58 AM.

It starts snowing. Wind speed picks up and the snow storm is building up. Subedar Ash Nandan Singh blows the alarm and asks everyone to get to his shelter. Yavesh was disheartened but still hopeful that weather might clear up by afternoon.

**************************************************************************************************
Time: 08.29 A.M.

SIALA complex is under severe snow storm. Visibility is zero. Wind speed is touching around 150-160 Kms. Most of the shelters are already under 3-4 feet of snow. No one can dare to come out unless he wants to be blown with the wind.

**************************************************************************** ********************

Time 11.17A.M.

Storm has fizzled out. It is still snowing but the wind intensity has died down. Subedar Ash Nandan comes to the company Commander and informs him that Capt SONI’s tent was not traceable. Yavesh and Ram Lal come out and find men digging in the general area of the rough location of the tent. Yavesh orders them to divide the men into three teams of six men each and dig up the area in three parts. The digging continues. Snow fall stops. It is now about 11.45 A.M. Still, there was no trace of the tent.
Finally, No 2 Team gets to it around 12.03 P.M. All of them rush to the spot. Pull out the sleeping bag of Capt Soni. He is fully into it , totally zipped up to his head. Doctor Ram Lal feels his pulse. It was not there. He remorsefully signals to Major Yavesh to tell him that Capt SONI was no more. “He is dead”, he shouted. HIS PREDICTION ABOUT HIMSELF HAD COME TRUE!
He probably died of asphyxiation, because he had gone into the Sleeping bag fully zipped even with his head inside. He did not realize when the tent collapsed and the tons of snow did not give him a chance. It all happened between 8.30 A.M. and 11A.M on 21st February. In just two and a half hours, a life had gone. On search of his pocket, a half written letter to his FIANCEE—SUMAN was recovered. He had, probably written part at night and part in the morning itself. It ran:

My dearest Suman,

Oh my dear, finally, oh, yea, finally my dear, there is a hope that I would ESCAPE FROM THIS EL-CATRAZ kind of WHITE PRISON tomorrow. This JAIL WARDEN (?) here tells me that he would help me escape,even if official permission does not come. I will escape. I do not care about the consequences. I love you, SUMAN. I am coming, SUMAN darling. It is a clear night. Hope it will be the same tomorrow too.

Oh, what a fine morning. It is clear. I will come and I do hope this ‘Bully’ (?) here stands by his promise. To hell with him, if he does not, I will scramble on my own. I will come. -------Hold on someone is coming.

Oh yea, It was my orderly. What great news? He told me that HELICOPTER WOUL BE HERE AROUND 9 A.M. Major SAHIB has told him. What luck? Finally I will be a free man. I will come soon, my dear SUMAN. Tell your parents; tell the whole world----I love you SUMAN---Love you, love you, love you my SUMAN. Oh, some wind blowing----------------

*******************************************************************************************************

The letter had ended abruptly because it seems the weather had packed and along with it Captain SONI’s last hopes had also vanished. Yavesh was sad. He was furious that he could not let him escape to his freedom and a life full of dreams with his SUMAN.

The weather remained packed up for 9 days. And the dead body of Capt SONI had to be kept in the same tent where YAVESH and RAM LAL had stayed. They were cramped up for space but there was no choice.

On 02 March 1987, a Chopper came. The dead body was evacuated with the half written letter to “SONI’s DEAREST SUMAN”. Perhaps, she might not ever know as to how much he loved her because the fate had robbed her love for ever. May be she might not even remember him because she might be married to some one else. BUT YAVESH WAS SURE CAPT ‘SONI’ HAD DIED WITH THE NAME 'SUMAN' ON HIS LIPS. It is on this day he penned these few line on SIACHEN calling it a ‘NATURAL HUMAN PRISON’: --------

Morning comes, hopes grow;

Evening shatters Life’s glow,

Silently curse men their lot;

What crime had them brought?

Memory gets normally impaired,

Eating becomes sometime affair,

Emotional tension abounds in lads,

Some lose nerves and go mad.

Each one counts each one’s days,

No one wants a prolonged stay.

Yet time for them moves very slow

Each day seems, years in a row.

Leaders across borders make tall claims,

Honors bestowed on heroes of Siachen fame’ –

‘Sense of reality’ though seemed to be lost,

Amidst emotional minds and prestigious boasts!

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