“Neela! Wait!”
The little girl stopped in her tracks and swirled her navy-blue skirt as she turned around. She was around 6-years-old, with a small round face, bright mischievous eyes and a head of curly black hair that were tied into two tight little pigtails that hung behind her ears. Her impish face brightened as she pressed her hand over her mouth to hide her giggle.
The object of her mirth was a little boy of around the same age as hers. He wore a pair of shorts of the same navy-blue color as the girl and a white shirt. His squarish pudgy face was red with the effort of the exercise. His dark skin glistened with perspiration as he ran trying to catch up with her.
“How do you walk so fast?” said the little boy breathlessly as he reached her. He rubbed his forehead with his sleeve and ran his hand over his neatly parted hair.
“You need to eat fish for that. Eating curd will not help you Madrasi?” said Neela grinning mischievously as she turned around to continue walking with a swish of her pigtails.
“Ughhh!” said the little boy sticking out his toungue and making a face “How you Bangalis eat that smelly thing I wonder. Amma says it will hurt your stomach if you eat it too much. And don’t call me a Madrasi. Amma says I am a Kannadiga. ” he continued priggishly.
“Hah!” said Neela making a face at him ” Go and tell your Amma to carry you to school then. And I will call you a Madrasi as many times as I want” she said and increased her walk into a short run.
“Neela wait! Don’t run!” said the little boy frantically trying to catch up. His short stubby legs making a valiant effort to match the rhythm set by the lithe slim ones of his friend.
“One day, I promise, I am going to leave you far behind. Just you wait and watch Neela Bangali” shouted Arun angrily.
Neela simply squealed with laughter and stuck out her tongue at her friend. The two children created a beautiful picture of innocence as they hopped, skipped and ran along the narrow meandering path that led towards their little village school.
Neela and Arun were neighbours in the village of Gubbi in the Tumkur district of Karnataka. Neela’s father had moved to the village before her birth. For Neela, her world was made up of this tiny village, her parents and Arun, her best friend. The two were inseparable and were as thick as thieves.
Years went by and they grew up together. Arun was no longer the pudgy school boy in blue shorts but a strapping young man of 23-year-old and Neela now a tall slim beauty. With every advancing year, they both realised that life around them was changing. The carefree innocence of their childhood days was over and they needed to turn their minds to more serious thoughts. Arun who was always passionate about doing something for his country decided to join the CRPF.
Arun was ecstatic when his selection results were declared. He rushed over to Neela to share the good news.
“When will you be leaving?” Neela said looking at him strangely.
“In a week’s time” said Arun smiling. He could hardly control his excitement. However, he was a bit surprised that Neela did not share his excitement.
“And how will you manage there all by yourself?” she asked pretending to be busy arranging her books in her bag. Neela did not want him to see the tell-tale prick of tears that were moistening her eyes threatening to spill over. Arun would surely laugh at her and call her a sissy and she would not give him that chance.
“I will learn” said Arun looking at her closely. “What is it Neela? You don’t look happy?”
“Of course I am happy” said Neela smiling up at him “Why do you say that?”
“Because you look different” said Arun.
“Do I?” asked Neela trying to sound casual “Maybe yes. Everything is different now Arun. We are no longer children. You have your life to follow. I have mine. Nothing will be the same anymore.”
“But I will be back” said Arun.
Neela simply shrugged and smiled at him as she got up to leave.
“You will come to the station tomorrow next week?” asked Arun calling out to her “My train leaves at 10 in the morning.”
Neela simply turned and looked at him. A shy smile spread out on her lips as she gently shook her head.
Something in the way she looked at him stirred his heart. He felt nothing would ever make any sense any more if he Neela did not come to see him off. Then suddenly, in that moment, everything changed. Everything he had known or thought got a different meaning. Even Neela. He realised he had got to know her all over again. This was not the girl with pigtails who teased him all through his childhood. The one who stood before him now was a woman with whom he knew he had to spend his entire life.
Before he could say anything Neela walked off.
On the day of his departure, Arun waited anxiously. He paced the platform restlessly. There were just a few minutes left before his train would leave the station and still there was no sign of Neela. Arun knew she would come. He had to see her before he left and he knew she would want to see him too.
Then he saw her. She was hurtling down the stairs that led to the platform where his train was stationed and stood panting before him breathless. The loose tendrils of her hair framed her face in a pretty disarray.
“Look who is late for a change?” said Arun smiling mischievously.
“So, you are leaving me behind after all” said Neela ignoring his jibe, still a little breathless from the exercise.
“I promised” said Arun.
“So you did” said Neela smiling. Then her face turned serious as she said with deep intent “Do well Arun. Make the village proud.”
“I will. But Neela, you will wait for me, won’t you?” said Arun as his face turned serious and his eyes searched her face for the answer that had driven him insane for the past few days.
Neela did not answer. She just stood looking at him. A deep red flush colored her cheeks as she gently shook her head and her lips curled up in a shy smile.
Till the train left the station Arun stood looking at that face so that he could keep it etched in his memory, forever.
Neela did wait. After the first few attempts, her parents stopped trying to find alliances for her marriage. There was an unspoken agreement between them and they knew who she was waiting for. Neela kept her days busy packed them with activities that would keep her mind off everything. She spent her time tutoring the younger kids of the village, working in the village panchayat and pursuing her higher studies. She was always a good student and intended to complete her post-graduation at least.
However, at night her thoughts were filled with those of Arun. She would lie staring at the moon wondering what he might be doing now? Was he thinking of her as she thought of him? She did receive a few letters from him. They were filled with general news of what his days were. Every letter ended with the same line.
“I know you will wait for me Neela.”
Neela would just smile and place the letter in the big file where she kept her certificates. She knew they would be safe there. She did not want to share him with anybody not even her parents.
Neela’s wait ended when after one year, Arun wrote back that his training was over and before his posting he was coming home for a week.
The first thing that Arun did when he reached home was to start off for Neela’s house. His heart was beating wildly as he pedalled furiously on his cycle wondering if things were the same any more. Why did Neela not answer any of his letters?
However, one look at her and all his fears were allayed. He knew she was his, now and forever. They simply stood smiling into each other’s eyes.
Neela and Arun got married a few days later. It was a simple marriage but it did not matter because they knew they had each other and that was all they needed. A few days later Arun left for his posting promising to be back soon. Neela knew too well to know that “Soon” meant at least 6 months if not later.
They often wrote to each other. Neela lived through the life of a soldier through Arun’s letters. She realised the perils they put their own lives in just to ensure that the country slept in peace. In her own letters she told him how she was picking up her domestic skills while continuing with her tuitions. In her own way, she was contributing to rearing up a generation of educated citizens who would weave new dreams for this country.
One early February morning, a week before Arun was to come home for his annual leave, Neela was woken up by a rap on her door. She opened it to find her father-in-law standing before her. In his hand he held a letter. His face was blank and his eyes were glistening with unshed tears.
Fear gripped Neela’s heart as she took the letter. A bus carrying 40 CRPF personnel, travelling to their unit after the day’s training session, the last one before most of their scheduled leaves began, was rammed into by a suicide bomber jeep. Most of them had died on the spot while a few others were critically injured. Arun Pillai was among the deceased.
The last thing Neela remembered before she fell down unconscious were the words:
“Our deep condolences for the family of Shahid Arun Pillai.”
The following few days made her relive her trauma as every household spoke about the tragic incident. The village of Gubbi could not moan the loss of their son enough.
Arun’s parents were inconsolable. His mother took to the bed in grief and his father sat in stony silence. Neela had to swallow her own grief and tend to them. Her days went in feeding, bathing and taking care of their medication. She worked as if in a daze.
A few days later, they brought Arun back. They laid his stiff cold body clad in the tricolor in full state honours. The whole village came over to pay their respects. Neela, her brows creased in an angry scowl, sat motionless staring at his listless body. All she could think of was the admonishing her best friend.
“How dare you Arun? How dare you outrun me so soon.”
Before leaving, Arun’s colleagues handed them a trunk filled with Arun’s possessions. After Arun’s cremation, everybody returned home. Like every other day Neela tended to her in-laws and entered her room. It was then that her eyes fell on the trunk which lay unopened. She sat down before and gently lifted the lid. She spotted his uniform that lay on top of the neatly packed pile. As Neela, smoothened the creases on the khaki set, her hand brushed across something in his breast pocket. She peered in curiously and realised it was a letter. The last one that Arun had not posted.
She opened it as she felt a lump in her throat and tears filled her eyes on seeing the familiar handwriting
Dearest Neela,
Before I joined the CRPF I never realised that we have been so lucky to have lived the life that we had. We never had to sleep to the sound of grenades or with the fear in our hearts that we would never wake up to see the sun rise in the open skies. Do you know Neela? I have seen families watch their houses being burnt to ashes before their eyes. Can you imagine their plight? When you write to me that you have added something new to our house, I thank the almighty for giving us a home to cherish and pray to him that I may live to see it. I know Neela, you will hate me for writing this, but it is true. Every moment of our lives here is a challenge. We live in perpetual fear that we may not go back to see our families again.
But Neela, the beautiful part is, neither of us want to go back forsaking these families here. The people here are so innocent and pure. They do not know why they are made the scapegoats and have to suffer thus. It is sad Neela, very sad.
You must be thinking what is wrong with your Arun. But believe me Neela, for the first time in my life I found a real purpose in my life. To stay here and protect these people, protect our country in whatever little way I can is an immense satisfaction I can never express enough. I am glad Neela you are doing your little bit too. Spreading the light of knowledge in our little village will one day make it glow brighter and better.
It is my dream Neela, to one day see our country free from these fears and rid of these scars. I will do what I can until my last breath to help it move towards that end. I promise our child will breathe in a world where a mother’s tears do not blur the vista of the blue skies and the green grass is not marred with a brother’s blood. And I know, like always, you will be with me in this.
I will not be able to post this letter before I leave for my vacation. But I will read it to you when we meet.
Looking forward to meeting you again, my love
Forever yours
Arun.
Neela sat staring into the darkness the letter lay open on her lap. The first chatter of the birds made her realise that it was almost approaching dawn. With a start she got up. Her room was a small one with her bed, a wardrobe to stack her clothes and a small square mirror. It was just above this mirror that they had hung Arun’s photograph. She stood before the mirror and stared up into the smiling eyes of the photograph.
Suddenly a thought struck her and she rushed over to rummage in Arun’s trunk for something. Then her face lit up as she found what she was looking for. She straightened up clutching the deep navy-blue beret cap with the silver CRPF monogram gleaming at its centre, in her hands. She stood before the mirror and placed the cap on her head.
As the sunlight washed over her tear-streaked face, Neela smiled for the first time in several days. She looked up at Arun’s photograph
“I am with you Arun Pillai in life and in death. I will not let you outrun me so soon Madrasi. Wish me luck!”
She smiled mischievously knowing that somewhere behind the clouds, Arun was grinning at her too. He had probably known what her answer to his letter would be.
Cover picture credit: https://goodnightimage.net/101-beautiful-lord-shiva-parvati-image/4/
