yeh vidaai hai yaa swaagat...?
(Is this farewell or welcome...?)
Another new year...uff ! Who knows why this darned time is always in such a rush. Only recently, the year two thousand and eighteen had stood here... in all its vastness...just here, by the side! And now, as if in a blink, the year two thousand and nineteen has arrived with its gigantic mouth open wide... a mouth so gigantic, it's as if it will gobble down your whole existence! Trembling with the thought I look out of the peep hole in the bunker and find the layers of snow to have grown more and more thick...as if they too are in a competition with the vastness of the new year. Head thrust over the clouds and covered in these thickly layered white sheets of snow, the deep-in-meditation-mountain is as if totally unconcerned with the comings and goings of the years.
From where is one to acquire the deep meditative stance of these Icy mountains ? Shouldn't a fully accomplished soldier also be trained to the extent of becoming so deeply entranced in meditation, as to be completely oblivious of the passing of time ? It is only after reposing all its faith and all its freedom in us that our beloved country, spread all across below the mountain, is today celebrating the arrival of new year with such abandon and attitude. The dedication of each soldier posted at the border ought to be...to speak the truth dear diary...as unwavering, as unfaltering and also as uncaring of the vagaries of the weather as these tall mountains...only then would the sovereignty of this beloved country remain intact for all time to come.
The country is changing. The people in the country are changing. Only yesterday there was a message on my mobile, from a friend who had attended the last rites of a colleague after his martyrdom ...listen my diary, to what this message sent from the cremation ground says...
...I am confused! Is this a farewell or a welcome!
Should this have been a sorrowful closure or a joyful reception?
There are beautiful banners all over with pictures of smiling soldiers...
The roads are adorned with flowers and rangoli - decorative patterns...
An assembly of over five thousand people, more than a thousand kilograms of flowers, hundreds of policemen and soldiers in their shining uniforms and one dead body...
The bedecked army vehicle arrives, the wrapped-in-the-tricolour-coffin alights and settles on the strong shoulders of the ones in green uniform... with a natural grace.
Each wave in the sea of humanity present there, wishes to touch the coffin, to carry it on its shoulder ... but not everyone has this good fortune.
The green-uniformed shoulders advance slowly in step... the coffin is heavy, the heart heavier.
The crowd is surging. Many have climbed over the high water tank, many others on terraces, a few also on trees.
Such a spectacle had so far only been seen either for a cricket match or a film shooting.
But neither was the case over here...I am confused.
Any number of cameras...here, there, everywhere...each seeking a better angle. A few relatives stand nearby...stunned. Is this breaking news or a broken family !
I am confused !
The martyr's wife offers flowers and holds on to the coffin for a long time...like a mother holding her newborn...his little daughter comes and gives a salute...a totally tight salute!
My eyes, holding back till now are flooded.
And along with the flood, hundreds of young pairs of eyes flash with the resolution to join the forces. Hundreds of mothers concur silently. What is this - the death of a lion or the birth of hundreds of cubs!
I am confused!
His closest friends stand in a group close to the lit pyre for a photograph...is this an occasion to mourn or to celebrate?
I am confused.
Everyone is now gradually taking their leave. The darkness of the night has descended. There is a cold breeze. I am standing alone by the pyre-fire. Is this the glow of a sunrise or the simple silence of a sunset?
I am confused!
This may be something strange, but I am feeling completely at peace now. I feel a surge of love for my friends. I am falling in love with people. I am falling in love with my country. Again...over and over again.
Was this a farewell or a welcome!
Tell me my friend if this was an end or a beginning?
Going over the message again... and again... and yet again, I feel the flood released from my friend's eyes has now begun to fill the two eyes peeping out of the hole in this bunker on this mountain standing deep in meditation... holding its head high above the clouds.
(Is this farewell or welcome...?)
Another new year...uff ! Who knows why this darned time is always in such a rush. Only recently, the year two thousand and eighteen had stood here... in all its vastness...just here, by the side! And now, as if in a blink, the year two thousand and nineteen has arrived with its gigantic mouth open wide... a mouth so gigantic, it's as if it will gobble down your whole existence! Trembling with the thought I look out of the peep hole in the bunker and find the layers of snow to have grown more and more thick...as if they too are in a competition with the vastness of the new year. Head thrust over the clouds and covered in these thickly layered white sheets of snow, the deep-in-meditation-mountain is as if totally unconcerned with the comings and goings of the years.
From where is one to acquire the deep meditative stance of these Icy mountains ? Shouldn't a fully accomplished soldier also be trained to the extent of becoming so deeply entranced in meditation, as to be completely oblivious of the passing of time ? It is only after reposing all its faith and all its freedom in us that our beloved country, spread all across below the mountain, is today celebrating the arrival of new year with such abandon and attitude. The dedication of each soldier posted at the border ought to be...to speak the truth dear diary...as unwavering, as unfaltering and also as uncaring of the vagaries of the weather as these tall mountains...only then would the sovereignty of this beloved country remain intact for all time to come.
The country is changing. The people in the country are changing. Only yesterday there was a message on my mobile, from a friend who had attended the last rites of a colleague after his martyrdom ...listen my diary, to what this message sent from the cremation ground says...
...I am confused! Is this a farewell or a welcome!
Should this have been a sorrowful closure or a joyful reception?
There are beautiful banners all over with pictures of smiling soldiers...
The roads are adorned with flowers and rangoli - decorative patterns...
An assembly of over five thousand people, more than a thousand kilograms of flowers, hundreds of policemen and soldiers in their shining uniforms and one dead body...
The bedecked army vehicle arrives, the wrapped-in-the-tricolour-coffin alights and settles on the strong shoulders of the ones in green uniform... with a natural grace.
Each wave in the sea of humanity present there, wishes to touch the coffin, to carry it on its shoulder ... but not everyone has this good fortune.
The green-uniformed shoulders advance slowly in step... the coffin is heavy, the heart heavier.
The crowd is surging. Many have climbed over the high water tank, many others on terraces, a few also on trees.
Such a spectacle had so far only been seen either for a cricket match or a film shooting.
But neither was the case over here...I am confused.
Any number of cameras...here, there, everywhere...each seeking a better angle. A few relatives stand nearby...stunned. Is this breaking news or a broken family !
I am confused !
The martyr's wife offers flowers and holds on to the coffin for a long time...like a mother holding her newborn...his little daughter comes and gives a salute...a totally tight salute!
My eyes, holding back till now are flooded.
And along with the flood, hundreds of young pairs of eyes flash with the resolution to join the forces. Hundreds of mothers concur silently. What is this - the death of a lion or the birth of hundreds of cubs!
I am confused!
His closest friends stand in a group close to the lit pyre for a photograph...is this an occasion to mourn or to celebrate?
I am confused.
Everyone is now gradually taking their leave. The darkness of the night has descended. There is a cold breeze. I am standing alone by the pyre-fire. Is this the glow of a sunrise or the simple silence of a sunset?
I am confused!
This may be something strange, but I am feeling completely at peace now. I feel a surge of love for my friends. I am falling in love with people. I am falling in love with my country. Again...over and over again.
Was this a farewell or a welcome!
Tell me my friend if this was an end or a beginning?
Going over the message again... and again... and yet again, I feel the flood released from my friend's eyes has now begun to fill the two eyes peeping out of the hole in this bunker on this mountain standing deep in meditation... holding its head high above the clouds.
-x-
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