Painful Yet Proud Memories
It’s not easy being an Army wife!
This dawned upon me after two wonderful years of parties, outings, picnics and enjoyment when he went for a field posting. Twenty years ago, life wasn’t as convenient and as well connected as internet has made it out to be today. A few routine phone calls and long meaningful letters added a peculiar charm to life which otherwise could have been so lonely and desperate for an army wife. While he was away, I kept myself busy pursuing my higher education. His course in MHOW came as a real blessing because to me, it meant a long holiday with him. Unfortunately, within a few days I had to rush back to write my exams, but I hoped to be back as soon as possible.
Within two days of us being separated, he called me up with excitement exuding from each and every word that he spoke. He told me that he had been recalled to the war front at Kargil. I too shared his excitement with equal fervour, trying to support his endeavours of venturing out into his lifetime dream and goal, though from within I was shaking like an autumn leaf. It wouldn't be right to say that I was not at all apprehensive and anxious at the news. Never-the- less, I tried to keep all those emotions at bay.
We met at the railway station. He was in high spirits with a sense of pride writ large on his face. The people who were travelling with him had already started treating him as a hero. I too got my share of ephemeral fame, when all eyes were on me for a while, some full of admiration and some simply sympathetic. I didn’t want to be disturbed into taking any thoughts at that time for I simply wanted to enjoy those proud moments, to be the wife of a real hero. He bade goodbye, promising to call me up everyday, which was the biggest and probably the only consolation for me at that time.
Don’t remember exactly when was the first time he called me. He only had optimistic exhortations to all the questions that I posed to him. Initially, like a dutiful husband, he called me up regularly but then as the tension mounted on the war front, his calls became less frequent. At home, things had become a little difficult with parents, neighbours, relatives and friends unleashing their genuine apprehensions on me, taking away my solace in the process. How much I avoided those sympathetic eyes conveying that there wasn’t much hope left for me! There were times when I felt wretched and lonely not because of lack of company, but because of the the kind of company that I had around me which made my life all the more miserable. It was really tough for our parents too. They always put up a brave front and veiled their worries well enough to make me feel that there was nothing to worry about.
Those were difficult times, no doubt, my own thoughts were my best companion. Many hidden revelations about my own self lay bare. I realized I was much stronger mentally than I thought myself to be. I also realized that happiness comes from your own will, zeal, zest and determination to remain happy, which may be an uphill task but certainly not very difficult to achieve. I could train my mind to become oblivious of all that was negative and unhappy with strong support of my family and of course my firm belief in HIM. Thoughts of his well-being became my only prayer every moment of my life.
I remember one incident which made me feel that it is the ‘might of the mind’ that can wreak havoc in our lives when subjected to extreme anxiety.
One day he called to tell me that it was now his turn to participate in the attack on the enemy and he may not be able to call for a few days. It wasn’t unnatural for me to remain anxious or even irritable after speaking to him. Television and radio filled the void and gave a sense of connect with what was happening on the war front. That evening, the newsreader announced on the television that his unit had achieved a major victory, but one of the officers had made the supreme sacrifice. Before she could give out the name of the officer, the power at our home went off.Hell let loose on every part of my being as I realized that he was the one leading that assault. The extent to which my mind was tortured still remains unfathomable and undefinable. The grotesque mental agony made me die many deaths that night. The ominous and heart shattering turbulence came to an end only when someone from his unit called up after a few hours to inform that it was a sad day for the unit but ‘saheb’ was fine. It was in fact, Capt Vikram Batra who laid down his life for the nation.
Love makes you utterly selfish, and at times, mentally corrupt. How fervently I had prayed to God that he should be alive and nothing else mattered to me at that time. I just couldn’t hide my happiness to know that he was fine despite knowing that our unit had lost an officer. Such is life! A deep attachment to one can make you detached from the rest of the world.
He called up after two days. His morale was as high as ever but the streak of apprehension and extreme compassion could not be missed in his voice when he demanded that I promise him to get married again if things didn’t go according to what we had planned just incase he didn’t return. Those were some extremely emotional and heart wrenching times that are very difficult to put into words. But I was, am, and shall always remain immensely proud of the fact that my husband is a war-veteran. "My husband, my hero."
Every time he called, I asked him the same question, “When will you come back?” And every time he said, “Soon”. I clung to this word with all my might and hope.
When the war got over, the unit was given a heroic welcome. We all were jubilant and sad at the same time, for obvious reasons. It wasn’t easy for me and it was certainly worse for those, whose near and dear ones never came back despite making all the promises of life.
Some losses are irreparable and irreversible. Death (or should I say life?) of a beloved can never be compensated with money or glory or awards. At the end of the war, some young widowed girls suddenly had all the money, but not a soul who could understand their true emotions or the mental agony they had gone through.
It’s been 20 years. Martyrs have long been forgotten, faded from memory and relegated to the history books. But for their families, the wounds still fester. People move on, life goes on, but when you look back you realize that more than half of yourself, you have left behind…never to return!
Proud wife of a Kargil war veteran.
It’s not easy being an Army wife!
This dawned upon me after two wonderful years of parties, outings, picnics and enjoyment when he went for a field posting. Twenty years ago, life wasn’t as convenient and as well connected as internet has made it out to be today. A few routine phone calls and long meaningful letters added a peculiar charm to life which otherwise could have been so lonely and desperate for an army wife. While he was away, I kept myself busy pursuing my higher education. His course in MHOW came as a real blessing because to me, it meant a long holiday with him. Unfortunately, within a few days I had to rush back to write my exams, but I hoped to be back as soon as possible.
Within two days of us being separated, he called me up with excitement exuding from each and every word that he spoke. He told me that he had been recalled to the war front at Kargil. I too shared his excitement with equal fervour, trying to support his endeavours of venturing out into his lifetime dream and goal, though from within I was shaking like an autumn leaf. It wouldn't be right to say that I was not at all apprehensive and anxious at the news. Never-the- less, I tried to keep all those emotions at bay.
We met at the railway station. He was in high spirits with a sense of pride writ large on his face. The people who were travelling with him had already started treating him as a hero. I too got my share of ephemeral fame, when all eyes were on me for a while, some full of admiration and some simply sympathetic. I didn’t want to be disturbed into taking any thoughts at that time for I simply wanted to enjoy those proud moments, to be the wife of a real hero. He bade goodbye, promising to call me up everyday, which was the biggest and probably the only consolation for me at that time.
Don’t remember exactly when was the first time he called me. He only had optimistic exhortations to all the questions that I posed to him. Initially, like a dutiful husband, he called me up regularly but then as the tension mounted on the war front, his calls became less frequent. At home, things had become a little difficult with parents, neighbours, relatives and friends unleashing their genuine apprehensions on me, taking away my solace in the process. How much I avoided those sympathetic eyes conveying that there wasn’t much hope left for me! There were times when I felt wretched and lonely not because of lack of company, but because of the the kind of company that I had around me which made my life all the more miserable. It was really tough for our parents too. They always put up a brave front and veiled their worries well enough to make me feel that there was nothing to worry about.
Those were difficult times, no doubt, my own thoughts were my best companion. Many hidden revelations about my own self lay bare. I realized I was much stronger mentally than I thought myself to be. I also realized that happiness comes from your own will, zeal, zest and determination to remain happy, which may be an uphill task but certainly not very difficult to achieve. I could train my mind to become oblivious of all that was negative and unhappy with strong support of my family and of course my firm belief in HIM. Thoughts of his well-being became my only prayer every moment of my life.
I remember one incident which made me feel that it is the ‘might of the mind’ that can wreak havoc in our lives when subjected to extreme anxiety.
One day he called to tell me that it was now his turn to participate in the attack on the enemy and he may not be able to call for a few days. It wasn’t unnatural for me to remain anxious or even irritable after speaking to him. Television and radio filled the void and gave a sense of connect with what was happening on the war front. That evening, the newsreader announced on the television that his unit had achieved a major victory, but one of the officers had made the supreme sacrifice. Before she could give out the name of the officer, the power at our home went off.Hell let loose on every part of my being as I realized that he was the one leading that assault. The extent to which my mind was tortured still remains unfathomable and undefinable. The grotesque mental agony made me die many deaths that night. The ominous and heart shattering turbulence came to an end only when someone from his unit called up after a few hours to inform that it was a sad day for the unit but ‘saheb’ was fine. It was in fact, Capt Vikram Batra who laid down his life for the nation.
Love makes you utterly selfish, and at times, mentally corrupt. How fervently I had prayed to God that he should be alive and nothing else mattered to me at that time. I just couldn’t hide my happiness to know that he was fine despite knowing that our unit had lost an officer. Such is life! A deep attachment to one can make you detached from the rest of the world.
He called up after two days. His morale was as high as ever but the streak of apprehension and extreme compassion could not be missed in his voice when he demanded that I promise him to get married again if things didn’t go according to what we had planned just incase he didn’t return. Those were some extremely emotional and heart wrenching times that are very difficult to put into words. But I was, am, and shall always remain immensely proud of the fact that my husband is a war-veteran. "My husband, my hero."
Every time he called, I asked him the same question, “When will you come back?” And every time he said, “Soon”. I clung to this word with all my might and hope.
When the war got over, the unit was given a heroic welcome. We all were jubilant and sad at the same time, for obvious reasons. It wasn’t easy for me and it was certainly worse for those, whose near and dear ones never came back despite making all the promises of life.
Some losses are irreparable and irreversible. Death (or should I say life?) of a beloved can never be compensated with money or glory or awards. At the end of the war, some young widowed girls suddenly had all the money, but not a soul who could understand their true emotions or the mental agony they had gone through.
It’s been 20 years. Martyrs have long been forgotten, faded from memory and relegated to the history books. But for their families, the wounds still fester. People move on, life goes on, but when you look back you realize that more than half of yourself, you have left behind…never to return!
Proud wife of a Kargil war veteran.
