He looked through the
powerful binoculars across the two rows of barbed wire fencing. He never could
stop marveling at the vast stretch of grassland on the other side, similar to
the landscape on his side of the border.
This is what the two
countries had fought for? For so long? Surely, they had not fought for the land
because they had so much of similar land on their side. No! it must have been
something else! He could never understand the hostilities between the two
countries. They had similar lad, similar people, and similar cultures and
shared the same history.
Fortunately, the
hostilities were now a thing of the past. There was still no love lost between
the neighbors, but the sustained warring was almost forgotten. To the extent
that whenever he came across a patrol party of the soldiers of the other side,
they would nod at each other. Not yet at the stage that they exchanged
pleasantries, but definitely better!
He had not been
around at the height of hostilities. He had heard stories! Horrible tales of
parties going across the border to capture isolated groups of soldiers who
happened to be less wary or less equipped at that particular time, to bring
them back to their side.
The lucky ones got
shot. The less lucky ones were tortured before being sent-off to the cities as
prisoners. It was rumored that only a few were taken prisoners, the bulk died
during the torture and simply vanished. The capturing was not limited to the
enemy soldiers. The local civilian population, mainly poor goatherds were not
spared either. Very few ended up as intruders. The soldiers had their fun,
tortured them if they were in the mood, and then let them go if they survived.
Thankfully, all that
was in the past! Over the last few years, barely a shot was fired. This stretch
of the border had lost its importance, or perhaps the powers had discovered
that no real advantage was available to either side and status quo had been
achieved. Thank God for that!
His sweeping graze
stopped. As usual, she was there. With her goats and all! She was a sight he
had become used to. Every day, without fail, she would be there with her goats.
He had become so used to the sight of her, he did not know how he would react
if she failed to appear one day. Over the years, he had noticed that she had
not changed. She had the same slim, strong build, dark complexion, not very
tall, but even her ragged dress could not hide her graceful persona.
For a long time, she
would not come close enough to the border to allow him to have a clear glimpse
of her face. He had somehow formed a mental picture of how she looked, but that
was all imagination. Over the years, she had become less wary and had brought
her goats closer to the fences. All she would do was cast quick furtive glances
across, never long enough to let him get a good look at her. It had become like
a standing challenge for him. When at the end of the day he failed it made his
resolve stronger for the coming day.
It became a sort of a
game for him. He would try all sorts of tricks to bring her closer. He would
throw across small articles, combs, mirrors, toffees, even some money (even
though his money was useless across the border!). He would burst crackers, get
into a song and dance routine, and generally make a fool of himself….yet
nothing worked. She would wander close enough to raise his hopes but would stop
far enough from the fence so as to not allow him to get a good look.
The other unit
members had a good laugh at his antics. They often would jokingly exhort him to
go across and drag her back to his side – like in the old days! He did not take
kindly to such suggestions, even though these were made in jest. He was not a
criminal; he was an army man and a proud one at that! She was not a prize that
he had to win. It was a relationship he could not define and others could not
decipher.
The patrol party
members changed periodically. His story was passed on from the old ones to the
newer ones. They all knew about his madness. Over a period of time, they let
him be. Since there was really not much to do in this back of beyond, he would
become the target of his team members’ fun, once in a while.
Then one day she
deigned to come closer to the border. It was impossible that she would not have
noticed this particular man had been continuously watching her, doing things to
attract her attention. He got a look of her face from the side. Once she looked
towards them, he noticed that she had three small tattoo dots on her chin.
The tattoos made him
recall that his mother and his aunts used to sport such tattoos – but that was
years ago. The fashion belonged to a generation gone by – new fashion trends
had replaced this even in the rural areas. But this woman sported the tattoos
even now.
He could not put a
finger on her age with any accuracy. She could have been nineteen or twenty, or
she could have been older. She must be older. He had been around for four years
now. She looked as old when he first saw her through his binoculars. She had
not changed a bit. Some of these rural women were like that. Maybe it was the
pollution free air. And, the pure water…!
Then over the months
she would come even closer to the fence. The enemy patrol party sometimes
passed by while she was grazing her goats. They always ignored her. Maybe they
were busy keeping a watch on his buddies. She did not matter. She was on the
right side of the fence and hence did not matter. There were no real
hostilities but still they kept an eye on the other.
Over the months, she
would come even closer to the fence and then she would look at him directly. No,
she was not looking at him, but actually beyond him. She was looking at his
team members – scanning their faces. He felt a little disappointed. What did
they matter? He had been looking out for her over so many years and she was
looking at his mates!
Yet he was happy that
she was there. He looked forward to seeing her there. At least, she was quite
openly looking at them. Naturally, without any bashfulness or hesitation; that
had to be a good sign. He tried to make conversation but she never replied.
Sometimes she would
look at him and a ghost of a smile would appear. Maybe that was his imagination
playing games. For she always appeared aloof and disinterested. He tried to
throw across some small gifts but she always ignored them. They were left lying
where they fell. He could not stop trying. What he wanted from her – he was not
sure. He just wanted her to respond.
Then one day an older
guy was sent as a replacement in his team. Rather a rough looking and crude
character! Hardly had he arrived, he started making fun of his teammates.
Making fun of them as sissies, saying that they were having it easy, no
gunfire, no danger, and no fun – what was the point of their presence. The
other unit members were not happy with his remarks but he had the reputation of
being somewhat of a brute. Got into fights and he looked tremendously strong.
The sort of person, who enjoyed getting into fights, enjoyed picking fights. They
tried to ignore him as best as they could.
In the evening, they
were all drinking except the people on patrol. The brute went on a storytelling
trip. The stories were not funny but rather sadistic. Apparently, he had been
posted here years ago when there were regular skirmishes. Firing across the
border was a routine occurrence.
Most of the stories
were about soldiers they captured. The tortures were described in gory detail.
They tried to change the topic but he sneered at them and reverted right back
to his stories.
He made insulting
remarks. He was quite drunk but the others were not. Though drinking was a
regular evening pastime, none of them was enjoying it today. In the confined
area of the bunker complex, there was no way to avoid him.
Suddenly, he launched
into a story of how he and three of his mates had once abducted a couple from
across the border. The way they had tortured them. He was particularly proud of
the look of terror he saw in the eyes of the man. The woman, the
bitch…….remained defiant!!!!
He tried all he could
do to subjugate her spirit, he tried all atrocities on her, but he could not
break her.
He saw the look of
pain and of terror in the eyes of the man as he tortured the woman. That is
what he used to break her. He smiled at the woman and gouged out the eyes of
her lover right in front of her. How they screamed! And screamed and screamed
till it got on his nerves.
More
than anything, he shot them to get rid of the screams!
The
ugly nauseating tale was disgusting for all but the man was laughing! He was
laughing!
What was he? Man or
beast? They had enough! One by one, each of them stepped outside. The sight of
the brute was nauseating!!
Next morning the
spirits in the camp were low. Last night had cast a shadow on their boring but
routine life. They could not figure out how they would spend the days with the
brute. They all sat at their post trying to avoid conversation.
He was particularly
worried about the girl today. Her presence would set off the brute and he did
not want that to happen. For the first time he was hoping that she would not
appear. If the brute said anything, he would forget his fears and kill him. He
was determined about that.
But appear she did. Against
all his hopes, she came closer to the fence than ever before. The entire party
was tense. They all knew how he felt about her. They saw the desperation and
the resolve in him. Each one of them resolved to stand with him, in case the
brute started something.
Somehow,
sensing this the brute looked at the girl but kept quiet. He just stared at her,
saying nothing.
The girl came right
up to the fence. He tried to shoo her away. But she came right up to the fence
staring fixedly at the brute. It seemed that no one else existed. He tried to
get her attention but she had eyes only for the brute. Time seemed to have come
to a standstill.
Then
she turned towards him and smiled. For the first time! Ever. Then, she turned
and walked away.
That day the brute
was unusually subdued. He sat and drank all evening by himself. No laughing, no
sneering of the previous night. But the atmosphere was tense.
That
night they all went to bed early. Most were relieved.
In the morning he was
woken up roughly by the night patrol party. Still groggy, he could not
understand what had happened to cause the commotion, but one look at the man
told him like nothing else that something was very wrong! He followed the man
outside.
Then he saw it. It
was the body of the brute. He was lying face down. He turned the body over. He
felt bile rising in his throat. The brute was cut all over. His eyes had been
gouged out. It was result of a torture, the likes of which, they had not seen
in their entire life.
Who could do it? With
so many other people in such a small area! It did not appear possible. It was a
mystery, that it was! They had to arrange things first. Arrange for post
mortem, file reports, transport the remains……. the day passed in a blur!
Next morning, he was
at his post. Maybe the sight of the girl would ease his tense nerves.
True
to form, she appeared. She walked right up to the fence and gave him a sweet
smile.
He
smiled back. He was so happy, he could not think of a thing to say.
Then she brought out
a small newspaper packet from the folds of her dress. She looked at it once and
with all the force she could muster threw it across the fence towards him. She
had underestimated the force of her throw so the packet sailed over his head.
What gift could she offer him when she had
already offered him her smile?
He
picked up the packet and tore it open.