Sentinel

The morning dew had just settled on the leaves of the deciduous trees, indigenous to the region. 0430 hours. He still had two hours of sentry duty left.

He sat on the cold ground with his back against a tree. This gave him respite from the aches that came inherently with the cold weather, and he could manage to catch a few winks, without landing with his face flat on the ground!

He could see his companion, Lieutenant Pramod Toppo, fidgeting with the bayonet of his assault rifle. Pramod was a strappy lad, who had just gotten engaged and was eagerly crossing off the days till he leaves for his annual home-coming. Pramod had promised to get him a leather jacket from his hometown.

As the fog hung low along the trees, he found himself drifting away, he was suddenly awash with a very particular memory from his childhood. He was against a glass case, staring at the shiny dial of a Casio. He had stopped by the shop everyday after school, for the past fortnight, just to gaze at the centerpiece of the display. At dinner, he had spoken at length about his fondness of the watch, praying that his father would take a hint. Finally, his father sat him down and said, " Why do you want it so badly?"

"I dream of owning it!"

Then his father told him something he would come to remember his entire life." Don't cherish material things. Cherish your dreams. Work towards fulfilling them. Because, that will matter in the end, not possessions. You dream of serving the nation? Work towards it. And maybe I will think about that watch…" And there was a hint of a smile in his voice.

The momentary breeze snapped him out of his thoughts. He fastened his jacket tighter, and glanced at the Casio on his forearm. 0440. Time does not fly when you are on sentry duty!

He wondered what his friends were doing. Rakesh was probably making the car ride back from his night shift. Saket was probably fast asleep at home. Knowing Farhan, he was probably up, watching architecture documentaries all night, he had his final project coming up! And accounting for the time difference, Robert was probably screaming at a couple of poor interns at his firm! And Alisha was probably...

(Sigh) Alisha. Alisha Banerjee. Something about her just made him sit up straight. Maybe it was because her presence made him feel woozy and intoxicated, so he thought it necessary to pay attention. Or maybe it was because she was one of the few people in his know-how, who made a better soldier than him (even though he didn't like admit it!). She had proved it in the academy, when she had carried his backpack and rifle for him, while he hopped along with a swollen knee, on a cross-country race.

The world on the other side of the Academy walls is a world apart. Once you are in, the Army strips you of your current personality and issues you a new one! One of the first things that is inculcated in you, is respect for your female comrades.

The gender code during training is strict, to say the least. Despite this, there is plenty of good humour and comradery among the two sexes. But that doesn't mean there's no competition.

Female cadets aim to one-up their male counterparts constantly, and the men fiercely fight for their pride. However, his ego took a beating, that fateful summer day, when he toppled over and dislocated his knee in the final mile of the cross country run (In complete Military Camouflage and Kit). Each step onwards sent him back to the ground. They were running as a unit, and he was leading the pack till then. Alisha came up and grabbed his backpack. He vehemently protested at first, but three more painful steps, and he relented.

Damn Knee.

Together, they hobbled down the jungle track, the GPS said they had only half a mile to go. He then handed over his Automatic rifle too, and they made a dash for it, managing a respectable 2nd place.

He spent a fortnight in the military hospital. He was fixed in a week, but his bruised ego hadn't healed. And just when he thought things couldn't get worse, along came Alisha, with a sprained neck. She was assigned the bed next to his!

He tried to give her the cold shoulder at first, so they spent the first day in silence, eating and watching TV, in silence. The next day, she asked if he wanted to play table-tennis. He murmured, and she did away with the pleasant courtesies and took the tone of a school teacher. All he remembers after that, is something about teamwork, and cooperation, and going to hell. The last part was addressed to him.

After that, both mellowed down, and the rest of the military hospital days were spent pleasantly. Not love at first sight maybe, but through the Morning Drills, swimming competitions, shooting exercises and pass-out-parades, they grew fond of each other.

Now came the tough part. Keeping the relationship going. Luckily, she was posted in Delhi, not a world away from where he was. He managed to sneak away during weekends, or she came visiting during annual leave.

It was a rocky road to travel on, but the view was terrific!

His thoughts were interrupted by Pramod. " I'll be back, I'm gonna take a leak." and he started to make his way down the hillock. Maybe I should follow him and give him a scare, he thought. Would be funny to watch him spoil his new jungle boots! But he dropped the idea. Pramod was a vengeful soul, his payback would be dangerous!

With a chuckle, he stood up and resumed his post. The morning chill was relenting a bit, and the sun was coming up. 0500 hours. The shrill call of a bird reminded him of his still surroundings. There was an abrupt interruption in the bird's call, and it fluttered away. And silence.

He looked in the direction of the disturbance. Stone silence, not a sign of movement. Something was uncharacteristic in the manner of the bird. He watched for a moment more. Then, he swung around and grabbed his night-vision goggles. They may not be the best in the world, but they did the job.

A bead of sweat formed on his forehead. The night vision goggles were picking up six distinct bodies, all of them huddle together among the vegetation. Protocol dictated he give a call of warning to the intruders, and ask them to identify themselves. However, he knew these were no innocent villagers. They were stalking and plotting an ambush.

He was concerned for Pramod, though he had gone in the opposite direction, he sure was taking a long time to get back. But he knew, time was of the essence, he had to act quick.

He slowly slid behind the sand bagged bunker that was his sentry post. He took one more look through the goggles and ascertained their positions. Then, he fired.

He gave a warning shot on a tree trunk, and waited. Sure enough, there was return fire. He then pumped one magazine worth of bullets into the vegetation. Amid screams of agony, the return fire continued, and he ducked to reload. He came back up to see that two guys had broken off the huddle, and were now pacing towards his position, guns ablaze. They had black shawls over their heads and bodies, to blend in with the night.

He aimed and neutralised them with shots to the head and stomach. Unfortunately, one of them had spotted him and fired. A bullet tore through his shoulder and sent him reeling from the impact. He immediately stood back up with the bunker wall for support. Just then, Pramod took position beside him, and started returning fire.

This gave him a moment to inspect his wound. Gingerly, he lifted his arm and moved it around. No broken bone, so far so good. There was an exit wound in the side, so the bullet was not lodged in the body. He got back up and joined in the action.

Just then, he heard the camp siren go off. One of the other sentries must have been alerted by the machine gunfire....

He reached into his tactical jacket for another round of ammunition. But then, he spotted something. A projectile, heading straight for their position. He had no time to react.

And he blacked out then...

There was dirt in his mouth. He spat it out and tried to roll over. He winced. His right flank felt raw and vulnerable. He peeked, and saw that the shrapnel had shredded his jacket and uniform. His ears were still ringing.

The grenade lobbed at him, had landed about 10 meters from him. He had tried to take cover, and the sandbags absorbed the blast, but the shrapnel got through, and he had lost consciousness.

Now, he took his stance and started firing again.Two more soldiers have joined the firefight. From the enemy fire, he gauged that there would be 3 attackers remaining, at least. He shifted his rifle, and grabbed another magazine to reload. His right side still felt sore.

Just then, he saw another grenade soaring towards him.

"INCOMING!", he shuffles towards his left, out of the cover area, and instantly gets hit by a bullet.

In the knee. The damn knee again.

He falls flat and feels his shattered knee brushing against the forest floor. He rolls over and watches as Pramod grabbed the grenade and redirected it at the enemy , with movie-like precision! Looks like somebody had paid attention during war-maneuvers training.

There was a mid-air blast ahead, and then screams of astonishment and agony. Two of the lieutenants slowly proceeded towards the enemy position, guns raised. They pierced through the bush cover, and there was gunfire. Then silence.

He tried to sit up now, but instantly spat out a stream of blood. The shrapnel had punctured his lung now, and the internal bleeding was making it tough to breathe. He lay back and watched the treetops.

Alisha was probably waking up for her morning yoga.

At home,his mother was badgering his Dad to take the dog out for a walk.

The medic ran to him and took his pulse and then rolled him over and started cutting his jacket.

Farhan had finished his documentaries, and had switched over to a war movie, thinking about his friend.

Robert was done with his office work, and was trying to call him, but the number was out of reach.

He felt his knee being tied in a splint. He felt cold and his consciousness was waning. He couldn't hear a word the medic was saying; his ears were still ringing from the grenade blast. Actually, the silence felt good. He felt peaceful. Pramod was now alongside the medic, removing his helmet and supporting his head.

He was comfortable now. The morphine he was given, was effective. No more pain. The cold was gone too, he felt cozy, and his eyes were heavy. Pramod insisted he stay awake, but he knew that was not an option. He smiled at him, then closed his eyes.

EPILOGUE

The air was heavy with excitement.

He was panting, but kept going. The path ahead was clear; he had left most of them behind. He could not give up now, it would be humiliating!

Of course, he hadn't gained full lung capacity after the surgery. But his doctor had cleared him for the marathon. "Just as long as you don't strain yourself." The Doctor wouldn't be too happy if he saw him right now.

He had to train anew because of his knee replacement. The physio had recommended that he go for a slow jog, with intermittent sprints, rather than a fast pace throughout. But he was more used to the constant pace, from his academy days. So he had to purge himself of his old habits, all because he had to care for his plastic knee!

The crowd was cheering. He had just 300 meters to go. Some familiar faces beamed at him. Mom and Dad were elated, they were as proud of him as the day he walked out of the hospital, on his own.

Farhan had dropped his client meetings to be there to cheer him on. Robert was on video-call, and even Saket had called in sick at work, just to be there for him.

He could see the finish line. He felt a surge of excitement, and he sped up. Then, he felt a snap.

He hobbled to a stop, and grabbed his knee. No, the other knee. He had sprained it. The pain was not severe, but nagging. After concluding that he had not dislocated it, he started jogging, gingerly placing the injured leg again and again. But he would not win today.

Because he was overtaken instantly. Maintaining constant pace during a marathon is a winning strategy, he knew it, and so did the person who passed him by. Alisha slowed down a bit, looked back and grinned. Then she sped off towards the finish!

He looked at her and smiled. Beaten again. By the wife. All because of the damn knee.

The End.