“Amol!
If you don’t come out I am going to stop talking to you.” A flustered
Usha tired of her son’s tantrums sat on the bed. She spoke the name Amol with
an elongated ‘o’. Her one hand had a small plate with chapatti and dal in it, her other hand was being frantically used either to brush off her hair out of her eyes or to search for Amol.
The seven year old Amol came out of his
hiding. He was hiding under an iron chair that was overstuffed with clothes
that had been washed today. His sweet voice was enough to melt any heart, here
we are talking about a mother’s heart- it was liquidized. “I am sorry mumma. Don’t say I won’t talk to
you anymore.”
The middle aged woman, mother of two brothers Aman and
Amol, had moist eyes. She started feeding the young Amol with her own hands. His
mouth was over-stuffed with food. “Amol take the last morsel and I won’t feed
you till night.”
“Make me a promise that you won’t cry when I
don’t come out of hiding?” The sweet young-ling had a few tricks up
his sleeves. He found his mother's tears an emotional torture that rips his peace and happiness apart.
“Ok. Pakkaa.”, with a smile on her
face Usha fed the last morsel to Amol.
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“Mumma,
I want to go to NDA. Dada also went to join the Air Force right? Why are you
stopping me?” Amol was having a difficult time make his mother bringing her
round to his views. Amol wanted to join the Defence Academy and his mother was antagonistic to the idea.
“No.
You won’t. I do not want to send both of my sons away from me. You have cleared
the engineering entrance get a good college and study. I want you to stay close
to me. Your dada will be away fighting for his ideals and his country, at least
I will have you with me.” Usha was in no mood to listen to any of her son’s
point.
“Mumaa, dada is happy and papa is supportive of my decision too.” The teenage youngster
looked at Aman, his elder brother, and his father S. P. Sharma for some
support.
“Don’t
either of you dare to come in between me and my son there won’t be anyone
worse than me!” Usha threatened both Satpal and Aman with a lethal expression. The look was a stare down even for a roaring lion. Aman who had
just raised his hand to support Amol, quickly crashed his hands onto his laps. Satpal and Aman shared a quick glance at each other and remained seated at their positions quitely. “In
case anyone of you want to eat, the food will be served in fifteen minutes. I
am not going to ask a second time.”
Late in
the night when everyone had retired to their rooms Satpal stroked Usha's forehead
and uttered, “Let the child make his own path. If he wants to join the army why
should we stop him? He won’t go unless you give him the permission, you know
right?”
Usha started crying and after a few words of
consolation Satpal fell asleep; Usha cried for a long time. When Satpal woke up
in the morning Usha was no where in sight. Satpal went to the children’s room
to see Usha sleeping peacefully on Amol’s bed. Satpal’s lips parted to reveal a
highly content smile.
The 300 plus bodies of flesh and blood who took
their first step in 1991 are marching to the “antim pagh” of the National Defence Academy .
Today Usha looks at the finest men of the Indian population; even calling them
the finest men on this planet won’t be a stretched truth. Three years ago the 300 bodies of flesh and bones made a decision and crossed the first step into the academy that teaches them
everything life has to offer. These three years have prepared them for anything
and everything that life may throw upon them. These gentlemen are a symbol of
honor and pride - the virtues which lasts longer than any other mortal
attribute. Among st such glorious men Usha's eyes are riveted on her son.
A proud Usha Sharma pins the stars on her son’s
uniform. She has moist eyes. “You know right this mess serves the best food you
will find in the whole of the world?” Amol said with a smile on his face on
seeing the hidden tiffin in her mother’s bag. “However extra food is always
welcome!”
A disturbed Aman was on the line, “I heard you
are being posted to Siachen. Is that true?”
Amol replied back with a hint of surprise in his tone, “Really? How come these fellow know where I want to go? ”
“Stop kidding Amol. You know that mother won’t take the news lightly. Given her affection for you, I expect a bit of tears and surely a tantrum.”
Amol replied back with a hint of surprise in his tone, “Really? How come these fellow know where I want to go? ”
“Stop kidding Amol. You know that mother won’t take the news lightly. Given her affection for you, I expect a bit of tears and surely a tantrum.”
“You wish she threw the same affection towards
you, right? Don’t worry and don’t tell her where I am posted. I will give her a
call once in two weeks to let her know I am fine.”
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Siachen is a not a place, at least not a place
as we mention in common terminology. It is a part of the 2 trillion cubic
volume of frozen water. It is a pole itself in “the third pole”. It is the
highest battleground on earth, and the elemental forces of nature are the
harshest that mankind shall ever endure and still live. After three weeks of
acclimatization at the Siachen Battle School Amol made way for the Siachen
Glacier. He was scheduled to stay there for 90 days, and regardless of what his
relatives and parents said he didn't withdraw his name from the
Siachen posting.
On the 82nd day he was asked to extend his stay by
a month, to which he readily agreed. Look from a common and basic point of
view, what is there at 7000mt height apart from kilometers and kilometers of
solid ice; a week in Siachen and your eyes will long for any color apart from
white. A 90 day stay is sufficient for you to start hating the most serene of
all colors, yet here we have a gentleman who extended his stay on this barren
land for another 30 days.
On his last day another soldier named Sahil
asked Amol, “Sir, what made you stay here for another 30 days?”
“Siachen is no ordinary place. It may be
different geographically than the rest of the places on earth where military
serves, however no other place makes you feel special. Siachen is a place where
only men of steel volunteer to serve and when you leave this place you feel as
if there is no one equal to your standards in the whole of nation. You walk the
whole territory of the Indian country with your held high and an expression
that you are an emperor. 30 extra days of an emperor are welcome Sahil!”
Aman and Amol had come to their parents place to
spend their holidays. Every year both of the brothers used to apply for
holidays at the same time in the month of may.
On 16th of may, 1999
the land-line at their house rang the person on the other side asked for Aman. Aman was asked to report immediately to the air force base.
Minutes later the land-line rang again
to ask for Amol. He was being asked to report to Kargil in Jammu
and Kashmir , instead of Delhi .
The rest of the evening was drained in murmurs
and chatter of what had happened and what was about to happen. Usha had a
flying feeling that this is going to be a long lasting memory for her. She
cooked up the favorite sweet of both brothers. The next morning both the
brothers woke early and started for their destinations.
The last twenty days have been nothing less than
hell for Amol. There hasn't been a moments peace in the valley to be
experienced. Everyday new news used to pour in- either the news regarding new
posts that have been discovered under the Pakistan ’s
control or colleagues who died fighting for one of the decimal numbers. Amol
hurriedly finished his letter to his mother, “Don't
worry about me. I hope to be back in Delhi
June 10, 1999
Captain Amol Kalia, along with 13 of his men
started for the mission of freeing point 5203. Amol Kalia was specially called
from Delhi on account of his in-depth
knowledge and experience of mountain warfare.
Indian army was battling on various fronts
inside the valley. The nation’s attention was held by the fighting in the Drass
sector, however the heavily entrenched Pakistani forces on the tougher terrain
of Batalik was turning out to be a grave for the Indian soldiers. Climbing
already occupied peaks by enemy forces in Batalik is like standing in no mans
land and shouting anti-pakistan slogans. Bullets slip by your ears and legs
only to hit you somewhere in the chest; do the physics and add to those bullets
a few more speed when they are being fired from 16000+ feet height.
Point 5203 was a military post in the Batalik
sector. The soldiers of the northern infantry of Pakistan sat on the top of this ice
clad peak. The 14 Indian soldiers of the Jammu
and Kashmir Light Infantry led by Amol Kalia ascended
the peak in the dead of the night to face a pack of well
hidden, bunker-ed and armored 25 soldiers. What are the odds? When
you deal with brave rare human you don’t look up to statistics, here we are talking
of the rarest of the rare human.
Despite the well entrenched enemies, the 12
infantry team holed the 25 odd soldiers in their bunkers. For how long could
they do that was the question? The light machine gun detachment personnel to
Amol died in the wee hours of 11th june.
Kalia picked up the machine gun and opened fire on the enemy bunkers as Hollywood
Neither of the 14 men survived the bullets, nor
did the 25 Pakistani men. Point 5203 was finally captured at the cost of 14 Indian lives, and by taking 25 Pakistani lives.
---------------------------------------------XXXXXX--------------------------------------------------
Usha
didn’t cry when she received the news of her dead son. She didn’t speak a word
for the next 11 days. She hardly ate, she hardly drank and she hardly cried. On
21st june, 1999 when
Amol’s body was handed over to his family Usha broke down. Wars are fought by
warriors, and tears are shed by their mothers.
“I promised you son when you go into hiding I
won’t cry, and when you have returned…” the rest of the line was drowned by her
cries. The near by families were overwhelmed by Usha's grief. No mother has ever
been so distressed, no father has ever been so proud and no sibling has ever
been so lonely.
Satpal amidst tears in his own eyes bends over
to retrieve a hand written piece of paper from Amol Kalia’s bullet holed dress-
“Mother India doesn't want cowards.” When Amol was born little
did this history teacher knew, that one day his son would fill up the pages of history. The way he lived; the way he died; the way he is immortal even in death
is an indelible truth in itself.
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1 comment:
Beautiful but heart breaking!
The folds of Siachen hold counts of sacrifices by our warrior heroes on the altars of National Service.
But more than them, I salute those mothers who have the heart of steel to part with their sons and let them do their duty. If the soldiers are lions, their mothers are no less than Lionesses.
Cheers,
Blasphemous Aesthete
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