A Martyr's Wife

Today is the day. I cannot express my feelings as just sad or just happy. All I can say right now is that I am having a roller coaster of emotions. Dejected, because my husband leaves today for his duty of serving in the army, but also happy, since this is something his happiness lies in. And what is better than the feeling of pride we all hold in our hearts for the man who is departing from his family to serve his country? But as a wife, I also hold a constant fear for my husband, who probably might not return back home.

 As I help Rohit pack his stuff, I try to vacate all my negative thoughts and pretend to be happy in front of him. He knows I am not happy about his decision of leaving us, but regardless he has made up his mind. This is what I admire about him, his determination and dedication towards his duty. And even though I tried to pose as if I am fearless, for some reason tears rolled down my cheeks. He noticed that and walked in my direction. He kept his hands on my shoulder and said, “Sayesha, you married a soldier. I understand you are scared but this is my duty. I have to serve mother India and if you are happy and support me, then I can go today, knowing that I have made the right decision and there is nothing I have to regret about.”

His words gradually mend the wound in my heart. I give him a reassuring smile and walk away. I wished to say something, but it was as if my mouth had been zipped shut, because words were not coming out. Ramu, the caretaker of our house, enters into the room and picks up the luggage to keep them in the car.

My mother- in- law is seated on the swing, crying hysterically. I go and sit next to her and wipe her tears. She has known to be strong way before me. Rohit comes and touches her feet; she gives him her blessings, hugs him but does not say anything throughout. Rohit’s dad was also in the army; and he died a martyr while fighting in the Battle of Longewala. I guess that is what she fears about, losing her son just like she lost her husband. Rohit and I walk outside to our gate.

I hug him tightly meaning to never let go of him but he pulls back. “Remember my words”, that’s all he says. He gives me a heartening look and sits in the car. I watch Ramu drive off as I wipe my tears.

It’s been two months since I last saw Rohit. I have received a few letters and a couple of phone calls through the satellite phones, but my heart will only be at rest when I see him alive, right in front of me. He had last called me two weeks ago; before the Longewala Battle. I stay patient like I have been for the last two months. Just as I serve tea to my mother- in- law, the mail man knocks on the door. It is probably another letter from Rohit! I have been eagerly anticipating this.

I take the letter and immediately tear open it. As I read the first words, my heart breaks. No, this must be a joke. I continue to read the letter, hoping to read that it was a prank. But that is not what is written. I sit down to get a hold of myself and feel numb all over my body. I howl as my mother- in- law rushes to my side. She reads the letter and starts crying too. My husband died a martyr serving his country and all I can do is remember his words like he had told me to and sob.