Tag Archives: army

The Rebel’s Wife (2)

For all those who’ve been wanting more, specially the female who asked me at least thrice in the past week ~ here’s the rest of “The Rebel’s Wife“:

“Your father didn’t die in a road accident. Your father was killed on the road. The road was our home. We lost our house. We lost our land. We even lost our identity. The Government took away all that was ours. Or all that we thought we’d owned. And it didn’t even care. All it cared about was money. And we didn’t have any – for us or for them.”

She wiped her tears away. Years had passed and she’d seen worse days but she still went weak in her knees when she thought about those times. She looked into the eyes of her fifteen year old sons and continued.

“Your father, along with others, protested. They were agitating powerlessly against people so ruthless, so cruel and so unforgiving that I wondered if they were created by the same God. We were the wronged; but they looked down upon us. For days on end, we would be without proper food or water. A blanket was a luxury. Smiles seemed to have evaporated overnight. There would be children crying everywhere. Day or night, you could hear the shrieks of babies and the groans of the ill and old. The men were mostly away. Some came back to take their families elsewhere. By the end of the ordeal we were mostly women and children. No one cared if we lived or died. This went on for over a year. We were all scared. Some of us were paranoid. We thought our troubles would never end. But they did.”

“One form of trouble ended. The roads were no longer our homes. They were the burial ground for our men. And the homes they brought us to were the burial grounds for us women. They called my husband a rebel. A rebel he was. He rebelled for a home, for water, for food, for security, for identity, for a life. He rebelled for his family. And he rebelled for all the people he treated as family. He didn’t desert them and run. But he deserted us and died.”

She loved him. But she also hated him. And she let her kids know that today.

She got up to pack the twins’ bags. She was sending them off to the Army. Her country might treat her like the rebel’s wife, but she knew what her late husband wanted. Unlike him she didn’t see his vision of fighting for the masses against the classes but she never questioned him. She accepted that her fate was tied to her husband’s decisions.

Graciously Yours!

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Love not lost.

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You knew all along,
How much I loved you,
Yet you feigned ignorance for so long,
Hoping time would make me grow over you.

You were wrong to have turned me away,
Your love which was mine always going strong,
Your heart kept beating and throbbing my way,
Until it was too late and things went wrong.

To this day when I read your words,
The pain in your eyes comes floating across,
They’ve all grown – the trees, the flowers, the birds,
The grief you burdened alone still leaves me at a loss.

Every time I pass by your grave,
The yellow lilies, my favourite I leave,
I put on a front that’s smiling and brave,
Heavy breaths and a broken heart I heave.

In a small corner of my broken heart,
You’ll always have a place to live,
We may be worlds apart,
But you’ve reposed in me all the love I could give.

Graciously Yours!

Contrasting Worlds! (For better or for worse?)

Last morning in a deliberate (and desperate!) attempt to set ourselves free from the shackles of our hectic schedules, a few of us went out on an early Sunday morning drive to the not-so-well-frequented places of Calcutta.

Sincere advice — Next time you’re freewheeling around like me, just observe what’s around you.

One of our stops was a road-side eatery in the city. (For Calcuttans, we were near the Calcutta Stock Exchange!). While we sat, waiting to greet steaming cups of tea and hot buttered toasts, under a gray clad morning sky, I looked around me. The waiters were rushing around with plates to be served, waiting on the incoming cars, greeting regular customers with smiles and ‘How do you do?’s, the man at the stove cheerfully doling out order after order, other early risers sitting around in clumps sharing a laugh or two (rather loud ones at that!). It was a quiet, serene and fresh way to start a Sunday! The delicateness and intricacies of the surroundings made you forget all the worries and just wanted to make you sit there all day long, staring at happy faces.

And then i happened to glance behind me. Just a meter away from where we were sitting, stood clusters of police patrol vans. Reason being that the local police headquarters and the State Government;s office was nearby. There were proper police sand bunkers laid out, with somber- faced, rifle-clad policemen in them. Noticing my gaze, my Dad simply pointed out, “They always have to be on the alert, lest an attack take place.”

Enough to shatter my illusion of the peace and quiet.

Contrasting worlds, ain’t it?!

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P.S: To all the men on duty, I salute you for the dedication and devotion you display. At all times. We, civilians, tend to get away from work with small excuses like sickness, birthdays, anniversaries. But for you, life seems work and work seems life. Sans complaints! Immense respect for you!