Three bullets in all – one on the elbow, one on thigh and
one straight to the chest. I was thankful of wearing a chest guard that day. It
was my work, killing people is what I am paid for, people also disguise us as soldiers. There is not a single day,
when we are spared of cross-firing. The wound on my chest is now covered with a
shiny gold medal, which brightly displayed my name, and a certificate which I
held, mentioning the concession of money to my family. I try to measure the
pain of bullet that I took, it rewarded me with lives of three enemy soldiers.
Soldiers are habitual of pain, the word itself demeans them, and their work.
Their passion takes them forward with courage and a will which loudly echoes
the nation’s name.
I believe I am different, with a thought process exclusive
from them. I remember the first time it struck my mind, perhaps isolation from the ones I long for, and the situations which I went through, I could the see the emotions,
disguised as travelers making their way far, dragging with each step, farther
away from me. Those were the thoughts once perceived by me, but being a
soldier, something so delicate seemed naive and was considered insignificant in the
realms of death, which we have to deal with, every single day.
With every bullet I fire, I think about
my home. I think about my family, the ones who belonged to me and the ones
I could call mine. The imagination takes me above in an open sky, where I meet
emotions such as love and longing. I ponder upon the time when my people would finally be with me. A
grave thought arises in my mind, a question which is unanswerable with time.
The expectations often end with grief.
I try to reason out my presence here at the border and my
absence at my home, among my people. “I
cannot let my country die, I must protect it” is what mind reflects back. “But are the ones on the other side of the
border emotionless? Do they not miss their home, their family?” I try to
argue with my mind or perhaps it was my heart who spoke from the realms of my
soul. The discussion continues every night, making my tired body live another
sleepless night. Before I could ever deduce the conclusion, the morning breaks
out and with it – the risking of life. It was just another day, I wanted to
reach my destination, but it looked as if something else was destined for me.
For long unknown hours in despondency, I would talk to myself, finding solace
in the darkness of life.
I could hear the heavy steps breaking into the chamber, it
was an alarm to rise up for the duties once again. There was chaos everywhere
and it seemed like a wishful thinking come alive. “We have been attacked by a large number of soldiers and their army is
approaching the inner lands”. I rise up like a mannequin, with no
expressions and as fixated as a dead body, preparing with arms, I look towards
the sky once more, it seems to dazzle as if it might cry anytime. The sun seems
to be setting, or maybe he wants to hide and doesn't want to be a witness to
the cruelty of the world, and sin we might do. I try listening to messages my
family had conveyed through winds, “Come
home soon”, they uttered. It seemed like a voice of my mother. I came back
to reality as the noises became intense.
Rushing outside to see a swamp of people firing, with no
fear at all. You could see death lurking in their eyes, as if they want to
accept death with open arms. “Was it my
destiny too?” I questioned the empty air. My destiny was to reach home, but
it looks vague now. We are ordered to march ahead and face the enemy. It starts
to rain – I was right, the sky wanted to cry.
It was same this time, three bullets in all – one on the
chest, one below the elbow and one sneering through the heart. I was thankful
of not wearing the chest guard this time. I knew, it was my end. The
imaginations seemed to stop, because they’ll be reality now. With every ounce
of pain, I close my eyes and choose to surrender to my destiny. In the darkness
of death, I witnessed myself at home again. Probably it was for the goodbyes to
the family but this time – I was covered with a tri-colored flag, with medals
kept on me. Though I slept in eternal peace and returned with a motionless
figure, for the last time, it felt good to be home again...
Tanishq Sharma
♣♣♣
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