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I wanted to post this to gather feed back from all you trusted friends here.After that i will delete it as i have to send it the school magazine.Please give your feed back and rate the story on 10.
The Boundaries
The train pulled to a screeching halt...panicky by the fact that the opponent troops had entered the train and were throwing in smoke bombs. The air was drowned in dense fumes and confusion as people ran helter skelter to save their lives and that of their loved ones. Except Shaila. Heavily pregnant, the well dressed lady struggled to move out of her seat in the crowds . She just closed her eyes and prayed-for the coming child and its dead father...for birth and death.
As she saw the tall, handsome man making his way through the crowds, she shrunk back in fear. Her gentle hands gripped the grill of the window unconsciously. A beat of sweat trailed on her pale face and her bright eyes narrowed themselves in panic. As he approached her, she could not help but notice his rugged face and his aristocratic looks. As he reached out for her, she muttered "Please don't" before she fell into a swoon in his arms.
The man did not rest until he carried her to the nearest government dispensary. His comrade had helped him transport her .He just hoped no one recognised him here. He twisted his hands in apprehension as the Doctor did his best he could. He hoped he hadn't brought in too late...he for once wished to see birth -not death.
The government dispensary had the least of facilities. Being in the remote region of Punjab had few services that the country would see in the upcoming decades in India. The doctor finally heaved a sigh of relief as he completed the operation successfully .He went outside to greet the man who had brought her in.
The man stood up in joy when the doctor came out , his face lit by a confident smile.He was informed that the woman , however was in a highly delicate state and he had called the staff of a nearby private hospital for aid. He was warned that he shouldn't agitate her much.
Shaila fluttered her eyelids open when she saw the stranger come in. She looked at the baby lying beside her, so perfectly formed. She profusely thanked the stranger for the risk he bore to rescue her and her eyes welled up with tears of gratitude.
"Where is your home?"he questioned as his eyes bore a silent promise of compassion and responsibility.
"Bhaiyya! I have nowhere to go now. Last week , when my husband died in the war.."she gulped down the pain and continued "I lost everything I had in this world. Fate was so cruel to me". She saw the man gazed at her in a moment of loss to reply. It was a few moments before he gained control of his words.
"And your Husband was?"
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"Himmesh Bahadur, the very commander who was found buried in inches of snow, wounded by fifteen bullets. The man who wounded him must have had no sense of mercy whatsoever" Her eyes were lighted with a fiery glow as she she spoke of his achievements and how he was hunted down like a helpless animal.
The man shrank back in shock and her words hit him hard like a poisoned dart. It had found its mark. It was just the last week that he and his comrades had mercilessly shot down a soldier on the border. What had driven him to that desperate act was his love for his motherland, the faith that he was avenging for the wrong that had shook his country by its foundations.
Commander Sheradali looked at the woman lying in front of him as life ebbed out of her. She had faith in him. She handed over her son to him and said "Though unaware of who you are , you have rescued me in the deepest of crises. I want you to bring up my son to serve his country , to become a soldier and avenge the death of his father."She gasped to catch a breath and Sheradali ran to fetch the doctor. He stopped abruptly as she tugged at his sleeve."It is too late ,"she whispered"I trust you to do the rest"
That evening there was a lot of activity at the borders. The new Indian Army Commander was called to the enemy camp for a peace treaty. Yet he carried a khukri in his cloak.
The white flags waved at both the posts by the midnight. A month from the midnight which liberated India and Pakistan from the British , the fateful night when the mother had been torn apart from her son, both were united. It was the birth of a new nation-the nation that signified a strength that was unbreakable, a foundation that was unshakable and a bond so pure that it held no hatred.
Sheradali smiled at the little infant in his arms, the infant whose mother had honoured her husband's killer with the title of a brother. She who had breathed her last in happiness to see her son protected and she who had taught the selfless love of a mother. For the first time in years, a tear rolled by his face as he remembered his own mother and a new motherland that was his for life.
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Bindi
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