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A simple truth

by Sriram Ragav SG   

There was a loud sound of explosion in the background and a rubble of gun shots followed. Other than these unnerving sounds, an eerie silence filled the space. ­His ragged uniform had distinct patches of blood smeared throughout.

"We did it. We have wriggled ourselves a niche position in the history of our country" said the enthusiastic youngster holding his Yugoslavian Mauser M-48BO with pride to his fellow senior comrade, who smiled back at him. They could see their national flag waving at a distance.

Other than these two, a few more were scavenging through the remains of the market. A trade centre, once busy and crowded, a symbol of the town’s prosperity and affluence, now lay about like a heap of ruins; tangerines bleeding over the rocky rubble that lay about; meat strewn about and no way to distinguish what was man and what was animal. The scores of unattended corpses, half burnt shops, charred buildings and military tanks made a forgettable eclectic collection. It has been less than 10 hours since the communist troops successfully defeated the military and captured the country's capital from the incumbent President, who ruled the country for over 20 years. He was hung in the same capital city, only a few blocks away from where they stood; the sounds of cheer and jubilation erupted during his execution from what seemed another country as these people were left to stare at what their nation was put through to get to freedom.

The incumbent rule though started as a democracy and was seen as a beacon of hope for the future, had slipped into tyranny in no time. The older of the two, still vividly remembers the fanfare and celebrations that engulfed the country about 20 years ago. The nascent republic then had successfully held its very first general elections and elected its first president, who was an inspirational leader, having lead the fellow countrymen valiantly against the colonial rule. Only he corrupted by power nullified the democracy and turned into a merciless dictator. Whenever he read through the deceased president’s speeches, he was always filled with dismay – How could someone so good, with such a noble vision turn into a tyrant in no time. With great power not only comes great responsibility but also a great urge to make the power one’s own for ever. It was a case saving from colonial savages and passing on to an indigenous barbarian.

The two soldiers had the painful job of segregating the corpses along the city markets and clean the carnage so that a semblance of normality could be restored to the war ravaged city. Body after body, disregarding which side they fought for lay in heaps, people of a once-proud nation united only in death in a way that life never managed to unite them. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, they burnt continuously in a smoky pyre by the road side; fuelled by kerosene and cheap petrol that the cars used to spew venom into the air. They also had ended the misery of a few police men who were still clinging on to their lives. It was more of a service these soldiers. The older man almost felt pangs of relief for those few who would be released from pain in death rather than in life.



But these soldiers were particularly chirpy, though stench of the rotting corpses was crossing the bearable limits. Add to that the cold winds were not helping their cause. They had been to the same University and were unceremoniously evicted following publishing articles against the autocratic regime. They had been part of the passive struggle against the government before joining in the armed struggle. They joined the uprising rather at the end. But it was no easy journey. Sacrificing the comforts, leaving behind their loved ones and putting their aspirations in the back burner, they joined the movement. It was the ethereal panacea that could solve all their problems and make the life easier. The cause and the hope of a free future, the choice of following one’s dreams and not be afraid of the lunatics in power, was an ethereal dope that kept them and many other volunteer soldiers rejuvenated and focussed even under the most extreme of situations.


"Finally we can get back to the university. I miss those days very much. I would love to finish my study in mathematics. I could have actually solved Hilberts 22nd problem. I could also reach out to my lady love, if she is still alive” remarked the older soldier.

"I will finish my civil engineering study. Our country is badly in need of a good infrastructure. More than what we could do, people of this country would be very much proud of what we have done. We have helped in establishing a government for us, by us and of us", proudly exclaimed the younger soldier.

"I wish we could have reduced this carnage though. The human loss has been colossal. It would take us a long time before any form of sanity could be restored" said the older soldier who was collecting the limbs of a dead child. The task at hand was getting on to him.

“It’s a small price that we had to pay in order achieve the greater good for the country. It’s all for the benefit of our fellow country-men and our future generations. All of them are martyrs.” retorted the enthusiastic younger soldier, who completely believed in the cause.

They went on with their chores for more than six hours without a break and had another couple of hours work left. Totally drained, they sat down on a huge boulder nearby and put aside their weapons. This was previously a park at the city centre and was a huge attraction. It was a cool autumn evening. Ideally a mystic yellow canopy would have covered the entire space. But only charred remains of the branches were to be found. Still one could easily make out the outlines of a once flourishing garden from the remains. Once densely populated, the people from the neighbourhood either migrated to the northern part or lost their homes and shifted to a local relief camp. The whereabouts of those who had decided to stay on were unknown, though many had lost their lives in the cross fire.

Suddenly they heard a rumble behind one of the bushes followed by what sounded like a human snoring. It originated from the corner of the park where they had not cleared up yet. The soldiers got their Soviet NR 43 Combat Knife ready to strike and followed the snoring sound. On a stone bench laid a person who looked to be sleeping. These two were surprised. They themselves had not slept for more than 40 hours and
the stench of rotting, charring human flesh was the only thing that physically separated them from forty winks. Sleeping in the midst of the rambles is in itself an achievement. A rag covered most of his body and was inconspicuous of the presence of armed personnel near him. They went and shook off the rag. Inside was a middle aged man, injured, but alive and breathing.

But what caught their eye was the military jacket he was wearing. The younger soldier wanted to kill him straight away. As he was ready to use his combat knife, the older soldier stopped him.

"Look at his pants and shoes. He does not look part of the infantry. He could just be a common man caught in the midst of the shelling" said the calmer older soldier.

"He could be in disguise. We cannot take any chances here. What if he is a suicide bomber" retorted back the younger soldier and was eager to kill the man.

"We have killed enough people already. Let us just give him a chance." Saying so the older soldier shook the person who was atleast 20 years his elder. He could feel the guy’s malnourished loose limbs. After some effort, the sleeping guy wearily opened his eyes to the rifle pointing to his face. He was not perturbed by the soldiers or their intimidating weapons. They hardly could see any weapons in his possession. They quickly checked him superficially for fire arms and found none.

"Comrade, Keep your hands where we can see them. Quickly introduce yourself and what are you doing here?" asked the older soldier trying not to intimidate him too much.

"I am one of the guys from this neighbourhood. I used to live right behind the park” he exclaimed enthusiastically pointing at a torn down building to the eastern corner of the park from where they were sitting. “I lost my home in the bombings couple of days ago. And I am here just to catch up with some sleep" said the weary person. He held out his identity proof that was issued by the communists to differentiate between normal people and infantry.

Convinced, that he was just a common man, the younger soldier asked him angrily "If you are just a common man, why the hell are you wearing a military coat? We had mistaken you for a military personnel and were about to kill you."

Still grumpy at being disturbed out of his sleep the common man responded, "Is it really military attire? I had absolutely no idea. I just needed some warmth. See it is too cold!!”


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