Disclaimer: This is a figment of imagination: Neither does the Army have a cadre of shooters, nor do they permit any human rights violation. Do not draw any conclusions please- it is just what it is- a story… FICTION!
Resemblance to any person, living or dead is purely coincidental and unintentional, and the events described here never happened!
We speak in our delusions of placid peace. Actually we have shared between us just a few thousand minutes of time.
You were the young doctor, a Captain in an olive green sari in Masimpur, Silchar- I was there too, in the early ‘98.
I noticed you on the platform at Silchar, and we knew each other just then. Then we were in the same compartment!
We first spoke in that crowded railway compartment, a night journey through the wild hills of Kachhar, Khasi and Jayantiya hills, Karbi Anglong and towns like Badarpur, Halflong, Lumding and finally, Guwahati A surgeon on temporary duty to Dibrugarh.
You said, I like men in uniform but I can’t any longer imagine myself in one…I am too undisciplined….yet that what if is interesting.
We waited till the Transit Camp at Guwahati. The train had reached a bit late. We met at the bar, you were looking lonely, single and I, lonely, single and hunting.
Then we took our drinks to the meeting on the rooftop garden, as we knew each other for ever, talking away through my beer and your gin and tonic and the uniform hung on a soldier’s mind hiding what’s within those walls that seem so impersonal marionettes to the casual on looker.
That was three years ago. We always meet here- we plan our meeting for these moments of joy! This place is always waiting for us, before we go on to meet destiny in our own lines of work. I never take leave for anything but meeting you! You too do that!
This time there was silence- we knew we have to decide!
There was a chill in the air- it late autumn. But we were having beer in the noon, and you, that gin and tonic in that cool 15 degrees in the arbor- Lt Col Lalit Kumar’s loving handicraft.
So? The usual icebreaker…
So, I was hoping to see you in a blue-white horizontal striped T-shirt, you said.
But you were wearing jeans and a top…
This was a sepia memory now- as the beer got headier, I asked for more.
Your eyes said that’s enough…lets drink off each other!
I thought maybe, but you did not insist.
May be?
I casually tell you that I am in the VIP room, room 602.
And you took note with a skipping of the heart beat. Yes? Was it a flash in the eyes? I don’t know…I guess I am obvious.
Yes, and the talk veers to childhood, and suddenly everything stops.
Do we have jokes, I asked. Jokes? Yeah.
It was about how a monkey sat on my shoulders and examined my mouth for pea nuts, and slapped me and went off.That brought the inhibitions down, you looked at me.
I was aware of the goings on inside my mind- reminiscing. The way we looked at each other in the train, pretending it was just casual, knowing we had a night at Guwahati, and, perhaps a week in Dibrugarh, before I went back to Silchar, and then on to the jungles of Mizoram.
And…
We kissed?
It nearly came to that, but we did not!
I remember I was getting high, not on alcohol, but on the fragrant delusion…
I’d wait for you but are you also someone who waits?
The bus would take us tomorrow morning- to Dibrugarh.
And the noon had changed to dusk, and the sounds of the busy road, the reservation office all died down-
We went for dinner- and returned oblivious to anything but us! To that arbor where we had found each other!
Tomorrow- we had to be ready at 5 AM- the journey was longish- about 12 hours. We had seventeen hours to ourselves.
Do you know those naked murmurs that you stir in the flesh, a kiss down by the corner of your mouth, a flavor of wine and the tilt of your smile hover like doves on my tongue? In wet noon and days of humid dreams, I would like to warn you, my lady, that the next time your fingers touch I will explode in a sheet of flame you might just as easily taste.
I recall you so lingeringly, lust-besotted, like a poem, perhaps…
I remember, blue eyes and a reckless love- do you remember, naked light and a sharing of the flickering that enchanted the geometry of love?
Our memories have a long street to go by despite the unusual facts of asymmetry- each room where we had made ardent love has new corners and its own memories like the pillows we have slept on, and striven in restless lovemaking, trying hard to delay the inevitable, and being unable to touch a strand of your hair, as I fell to a very old desire nursed in our skin to skin existence in those…
We found our rooms in that dingy Pan Bazaar hotel! We had dinner in the downstairs restaurant. What did you say? Damn it! What are we doing here? Walk me to my room won’t you?
But we walked into mine, and you sat on that wooden easy chair.
And asked for a pen, and then, a piece of paper, I hardly remember what you wrote on it-
Ah! Yes!
You drew eyes, you said, I have the most hypnotic male eyes. And the darkest of eyelashes, and the wickedest of smiles- and you said my hands are coarse like a peasant’s, and I said I am a poet.
“What did you do then?” you asked.
I am surprised- day after I would begin my time in MH Dibrugarh, and I would hardly remember you if you walk into an ULFA trap, I may try to find pieces of you, and make a body bag, so let me remember you my way, and you said, hey, are you listening to my heart?
You took my left palm, and placed it on your right breast, “feel the beat?” you asked.
I looked into your eyes, and said, yes, and your eyes are wet- I asked, do you always cry for the martyr to be- you said, be mine and live today, tomorrow is so far away, please live, if you can…
There was this haziness in me, I hardly knew whatever happened.
You sat down, and began the faint sobs, I tried to console you, put an arm around you, then two arms and damn it we kissed-
I stared at your earrings, as you took them off,
I looked at your ponytail as you untied the rubber-band
Then, there was just you, and me- the room closed in on us.
…
I remember all that, and you?
Why do you say I am lost?
Why?
I remember the musk on you.
Immersed in my thoughts…am I dreaming?
And a dream of the days that never were there before this?
Is this happening?
I remember your fingers tracing my lips.
I remember the lazy look in your eyes.
You said its midnight and I am hungry again- you ate the remnants of the black forest pastry from the tuck-shop downstairs but not from a plate- from my chest and said are you hungry too, I kissed your eyes, and said, yes!
The alarm rang at eleven thirty in the evening.
I saw you silhouetted in the bathroom door, dressed up!
…
We stopped at the Transit Camp gate, as the sentry examined the I Cards.
“Hey, Sir”, you teased, “I am going to be lonely and alone- be in the bus, would you please have a seat for me next to you- a window-side one?”
You left before I could speak.
I stayed awake in my usual room, 602.
The bus was late by 5 minutes, not a catastrophe as such and boarding was over in ten minutes. The crew of the rest of the convoy appeared keen to take off on time!
Lalit Kumar was there at the Transit Camp gate. Morning Sir! Here! Soldier, get another cup of tea! And there I was, he asked, Sir I hope you slept well, with a twinkle in his eyes.
I laughed, said yes. The twinkle became real when the reason became clear to me! You, from two feet away nudged me, but charmed Lt Col Lalit Kumar-“Sir, let’s go- I want a seat in the front”. And Lalit Kumar said, “Captain, it’s there- Sir, would you like to sit next to her? We have just the two of you officers on this bus today”, rather innocently. The escort commander came in, with a chit in his hand Sir, you are the senior officer, and I have the marching out state with me- please read and sign this!
I asked him, the usual questions- how many men in the escort, how many machine guns and automatics? He said three machine guns, seven automatics, two thousand rounds of 5.56mm ammo, plus on weapon scale extra, one JCO… et cetera, rather formally. I knew the poor guy must be doing it as a matter of routine, spending twenty days away from his unit each month, perhaps a year away from his family. The convoy turned out with the bus leading- once out of town, the truck would lead.
The baggage truck followed- it was sunrise, past it actually, and we turned into the Fancy Bazaar market, and over the railway fly over- a different route each time… always!
You were sleeping already. Your fragrance hung over me.
We hit Jorabat very quickly- it was just 20 odd kilometers away, in thirty minutes.
The road splits here- one goes towards Shillong, the other towards Nagaon, the heartland of Assam, 120 kilometers away, and soon we hit Roha camp two hours, and we have a short break.
You meandered towards the Ladies Rest Room with the other girls- the soldier’s wives!
…
We had not spoken a word till we reached Roha. I spoke to the guards, those men from the Assam Regiment, sturdy Mizos, extremely warlike, ferocious troops.
And they saluted. One walked up- said “Tagra Raho” and saluted.
“Sahib, tea for you”. I asked get one more- look at the lady there, for her.
…
What? M, how is it? So far?
I am watching a movie…
Where?
Here in your words- just words?
Is this how they write screen-plays?
I bet it is like that!
…
You had already settled in the bus. The bus driver was honking the horn impatiently. The JCO walked in- all in, shall we start, and immediately turned, knowing what my answer was going to be
You laughed, how silly, you said. The drive out though Roha enclosure was dusty.
I remembered, Nagaon was two hours at most!
I looked at you, wondering how would this petite doctor take it, if something happened- but then the ULFA never dared to attack a military convoy so far and I slept. I dreamt of you, and awoke in a second. The bus was entering Nagaon. And your cheeks were flushed. Was it the proximity?
The town has a small crowded patch and sharp turns, one has to be cautious, for stray cattle, traffic and jay walkers who stare at you if honk at them! The outskirts towards the east of town is beautiful- the houses are quaint Assamese thatch and tin houses.
We were driving past Misa Camp. The convoy had just dumped a few tired passengers- some men, and all the other rank’s families- we would have to be really alert- this patch was troublesome. We left the Brahmaputra road bridge link at Kaliabor. Soon we hit Kaziranga.
The Kaziranga National Park had more than just rhino’s- it was brimming with ULFA hideouts and arms cache’s and we had a road opening action unseen ahead of us, but just ten minutes away, just in case, should anything happen- we would be alerted.
It was noon- we had talked all the way. You had asked what exactly was I doing in Silchar, I said I had been told to go to Dibrugarh, and you asked where was I coming from, for Sillchar is a small cantonment where everyone knows everyone else, and I was not there ever. You were insistent- I said I am posted in the Insurgency school and your eyes sparkled! Are you an instructor there? I whispered into your ears- “Don’t ask me again- I am an intelligence guy, disguised as an instructor- and you asked “What do you teach? Night warfare?” and looked at me so innocently.
Damn it! I could not kiss you right then and there- I just looked hard at you, “We have trade secrets too” is what I said.
…
The Army has the resources to give you breakfast, and lunch, but no time for eating it comfortably. The lunch break at Jorhat was noisy, in the middle of a military cinema hall cum auditorium complex, with too many guards around it. You were nowhere to be seen during the break, though I strongly indeed wished that we could sit and eat lunch together.
…
The bus began its journey again. In terms of the time zone difference even with Kolkata, Assam is at least thirty to fifty minutes ahead of India. So on an odd day, the crows begin cawing at 4 am, and somehow, tire themselves out, like the other birds too, at 12 in the noon. So the rows of coconut and areca palms became very interesting.
I was watching your breasts heave in sleep and wished last night was upon us now.
…
One more tea break, then, four hours in the darkness.
We were in Dibrugarh- we had to part our ways. I was going towards the local brigade headquarters- the staff car and liaison guy was there for me. For you, it was the Military Hospital a few kilometers away, an olive green ambulance Jonga was waiting.
I remember the way you held my hand-
Why did you let go, why were you crying?
But you said see you BK, and walked off into that massive ambulance as the soldiers watched over the parting, unaware of any thing out of the ordinary, unaware of the undercurrents of whatever it was- even love…
Leave it at that!
Do you want to know what happened tomorrow-the tomorrow of this bus ride day?
Yes?
The room in the mess was barren, Spartan. A bed, a decent mattress, blankets, a thermos full of tea, an emergency lamp… a writing table, a table lamp… all there but something was not good- it was the damp!
A soldier detailed as my orderly brought my dinner. The mess havaldar walked in with the register. Sir, we are sorry- the guest rooms are all full- tomorrow you will be shifted to your actual accommodation, “The Brahmaputra Suite”- he picked up the phone. I could hear the purr of the dial tone- “Sir, this is Ok”.
I began my calls. It ended with the Colonel Int Corps- “Hi Col Pandey, can you come down?” and he came in quick time- we talked till the wee hours of the morning- Pandey was good- he had prepared his brief well and he asked me if I felt comfortable speaking or more important, understanding the spoken Assamese language- I told him, my childhood was spent in Guwahati and I had studied in two Assamese medium schools too.
Then the planning began- it was Operation Revenge, my protégé, RD was killed sometime back by the ULFA, when he was lured into a trap by one of the informers. I had told him to guard against a one in a ten probability that the local cops would be in cahoots with the ULFA, and he said that it was unlikely- and he died, in a shootout … in that one in a ten truth in Assam- betrayal!
We now had all the time to analyze the information- we had set up listening stations, human intelligence wise, and wired the odd passages, village lanes, inlaid the walls at places with heat and seismic sensors that would tell us of meetings of the ULFA in suspected places and verified visually with IR sensors at nights. We knew PB, the boss of ULFA would be somewhere very close on each time I wished we had the missiles like the Americans UAV’s to home the rockets on to hide outs but then we were not likely to be having those soon the discussion went on in the Ops room of the 37 Infantry Division. I listened to the briefing, and the General asking questions. Someone was saying “Colonel- we need results, and we need it fast”, the hype went on. I had my role cut out, but I had to plan my entry and exit from these plans- I so I continued to listen to Pandey’s plan, reinforcing and dovetailing my plan with his methods.
…
Two days went by- we just waited for the confirmation of PB.
Whenever I went to my room, the Mess Non Com always had the same message- Captain Memsahib had called on the phone- I said Ok… so many times!
I wondered what you would think of me- I am sure you never knew what was going on, did you?
You said “No I certainly didn’t?”
Hey… I am thinking- why?
…
The EW guys had been intercepting funny messages for some time now. There were frequent references to sunrise, and Charduar, slightly off the north bank of the Brahmaputra… and that’s all.
Thinking that I had some more time to waste, I knew I had better use the time to meet you. I asked for a “civil” vehicle- one that masquerades as a civilian one, but to the observant eyes, it was obviously a military one- the stiff soldiers in civilian clothes, the obvious officer driving, a gunman barely disguised peeping and on look out for danger.
I took off and walked into the OT- there were some casualties I had to check- and looked around. Through the wide bulletproof glass screen!
I knew it was you- in green OT dress, the mask, the white incongruent gloves, the loose fit pajamas, but then it had to be you- absentmindedly hearing the maxillofacial surgeon as he went on with the detailing, in the corridor visible through two glass doors, and not knowing that I was at the window.
Lt Col Jeevan Singh, the other surgeon, was scrubbing up- the prep anesthesia was done, he was ready, and he peeped in and said something to you. I think I saw your eyes widen, and you walked out of the OT.
As the door swung open, you froze in the frame, and smiled…. didn’t you?
What else could you say? “Two hours- we have a bullet injury case- a CRPF guy shot at close quarters, lucky he is alive”. I looked at the watch, tensed that you may not see me soon if I went away, I took the risk, and went to the Registrar’s office. He was not there, but the Commandant was. I walked in and asked how things were, was the typical casualty rate, the death rate and other things, so typically asked.
He said the usual things- he asked me, would I like to go round the wards? Surgical I, II and IV were loaded with casualties, as also the ICU. Cases that would tell me some stories I hoped.
Surgical II was a place for the orthopedic casualties- typical routine things- so I went around, unseeing!
The Commandant was sharp- he asked if I was looking for Capt M.
I did not lie- said yes! It was easier that way. Why lie? He said, just wait in the mess, she would be out soon… The lawns did not indicate how sterile the hospital’s working acres of cement and asbestos acres were- it was beautiful, and there were blue ducks- somehow I have never seen such a bunch of cacklers- and rather rude too. I took out my camera- I wanted to take a picture of you that day, and began my photography. The traditional glass of water came with a helping of biscuits. The ducks charged, and battled it out for the biscuits. One pecked my shin- complaining of my unfair handling of her hunger!
I heard you laughing! The Commandant had made arrangements to relieve you from that piece of surgery- knowing that you really wanted to be here- I wondered, why you told the Commandant everything about us- and you said- “I had a talk with him- I wanted to know why Army Officers who want to get married seek ‘Permission To Marry’ and other things, traditional but meaningless!
Your Commandant had pried everything out of you, and so here we were, feeding the ducks and looking at each other awkwardly.
…
Unlike the Nursing Officer’s Mess, the medico’s mess allows guests of both sexes, and that was upper most in my thoughts, a rendezvous. I had to return soon, in an hour or two!
I rang up the Registrar and requested him to look after my men- he said they were already at the men’s dining hall, and having lunch!
…
Time flies rather fast. The ducks were quiet- you asked me “Beer?” I asked “gin?” and you said “may be”, and I said may be! I wonder why we always do that to each other?
…
Hey?
I don’t really when the morning became noon, I wondered if you knew my past, a past when I was happy and living with a small child and her, or that they all left me, for I was ambitious and now, with half my salary taken away for alimony, I was no longer exactly happy, but yes, I could work, take risks, and then had those quick sequences of odd one-night stands, and I wondered how much should I tell you!
So I listened to you, and you said so many things with so much of admiration- even “Can I be a soldier myself” and we laughed- I said you are! I looked into your eyes again… damn it! You have a pair of distracting dimples… so we had lunch in the Ladies Room.
None came our way that afternoon- they knew M has her man there. The beer forgotten, the tears came later.
You said, “Damn you, fucking soldier, why has it got to be you?”
I could not answer- except that I knew, soon it would be us, and then you thumped my chest hard and said that I was a thief.
…
It was late in the afternoon- almost evening when I reached my room.
On the operations front, it was peaceful- nothing had happened. Suddenly, Barua, the young Int Corps captain walked in and said, Sir, we have time for a cup of tea and then we have to go for a quick briefing and launch- we are waiting for the SP and a magistrate!
Don’t say no- I am used to these sudden turns of events…
The EW guys had a new intercept- PB was meeting three more, two Bangladeshis and a certain X at seven in the evening- and he had three circles of protection- we had to break each before we reached him- I was the guy who would be killing him- I am the shooter- the guy who ends guys! And I vanish into the thin air every time I do that!
I had stopped the van fairly close to the tin hut, in the shadows of the grove, from where no one could see me. I told the driver- I would just flash the walkie-talkie twice- not speak, when I needed him to fetch up with the parked vehicles. I walked into the dark alone- I said let me check the hideout. My gun was cocked- a 9 mm packs the ultimate logic. Walking briskly into the scene, I circled around to the tin roofed building three hundred yards away, and entered through the back door. May be I was not seen by the guys inside.
I heard the small convoy stopping half a kilometer away, men spreading out to establish the cordon. I grinned.
He was alone!
The silenced gun in my hand was not heard outside. The shock of the first shot into his shoulder had made him clutch his right shoulder with his left arm! As he looked up in surprise, eyes wide, the fear showed. He forgot the Paki AK47 lying within his reach. Bloody ULFA scumbag! He whimpered mildly as the second shot went into his forehead and exited from the rear of his skull, spraying his brains and blood into the bamboo walls. I left by the back door and waited in the shadows as the search party reached the front door- the rear side cordon too crossed through the hedge, as silently as they could. I appeared to have arrived a bit later on the scene and scanned the faces of the magistrate and the SP- I enjoyed the look of shock- they had failed to tip off the suspect!
They had not seen me at all in the convoy, and I had “arrived” after them. My jeep driver had buzzed his horn too at the apparent time of my “arrival”. I left the gun with my driver.
They wondered who had shot the guy- he was indeed the target, the informer nodded! No one else was found.
This time I had to run back to Aizawl, I had arranged a helicopter ride too. I left without telling you- you would have wanted me then and there- but I wanted no ties till I left this business!
Would you stay with me for the writing of our destiny?
I have to minimize my lies and every thought that makes me think, that I have had enough of my dreams- and with that the waves that tell, the sea is just a desert below water- long paths and winds in the submerged waves hit the sailboat!
I have to tell myself, tomorrow I may find you here, when I awake to the curtains parted to bring in the sunrays…
I have to tell you, there are planets to walk upon…
I have to tell you, if there is love, this is it!
I would make it up to you next time, I love you!
And I would kill, till I get killed.
Today, we have a little more time, for beer, gin and tonic! Till then, when we meet again. I know you would call, thinking I am still in Dibrugarh! I won’t tell you when, but I have an operation coming up in North Lakhimpur,on the North bank. I may escape on a motorboat to Dibrugarh- hope to see you soon!
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