THE FLOATING DIARY (Short Story Journal – 25): WATER BOTTLE

There are some emotions that cannot be expressed in words! We can just feel them as pangs in the heart and experience the sweet pain of a sensitive prick. Today, I would note down about an episode where I felt such an unexplained pain.

On 15^th August, this year, during the Independence Day celebrations in our locality, the organizers had invited retired Major Anuj Aggarwal. Aunt Padma and I reached the venue on time and took our seats. At the stipulated time, Major Aggarwal arrived. The man came in his army uniform, flaunting his badges of valor and victory. He walked with the help of a metallic crutch and the organizers escorted him up to the dais.

Looking at the perplexed expression on my face, the man sitting next to me whispered, “Major Anuj Aggarwal had fought during the Kargil War! During one of his missions, he was hit by a bullet on his right leg! However, he kept on fighting until the combat continued. At last, due to excessive bleeding he fainted. The fellow soldiers brought him to the hospital and the doctors were able to save his life, but he lost his right leg. After his retirement, he works as a motivational speaker and runs an NGO for children.”

The flag hoisting ceremony was followed by a chorus singing session of our national anthem. After that, the hostess invited Major Aggarwal to say a few words. The tall, slim and stout Major Aggarwal got up from his seat, took out a small plastic water bottle and placed it on the table. He then took the microphone and began to speak.

“Good morning everyone. Today on this auspicious occasion, I will not deliver a speech. Instead, I will tell you a story. It is a real story, something that I faced. It is something that I cannot forget, ever, and I keep relating this story to many. The incidence happened during Kargil War!”

All of the spectators sat up with renewed attention on hearing the topic. I focused my concentration to listen to an interesting discourse from a person who had actually fought in the battlefront.

“I was posted in a remote location along with my regiment” continued Major Aggarwal, “I will not reveal the exact name of the place, for security reasons. However, that is insignificant in the current context. One morning, we received news about heavy shelling from the other side of the border, on one of the neighboring villages. The high-command instructed our regiment to prepare reinforcements and retaliate. We were also asked to evacuate as many civilians from the village, as possible.”

The Major paused a bit, took a quick look at the faces of the spectators and then started again, “A violent confrontation took place and our troops retaliated with a strong response! The combat took place for an entire day, and many of our soldiers valiantly evacuated the residents of the village, which included men, women and children! Finally, the confrontation ceased, and our regiment moved in to secure the place.”

I wondered what the Major was trying to relate, while he kept speaking, “The entire village was in a devastated state. The air was filled with the pungent spell of gunpowder and dust. There were many casualties, who were being rushed to the nearby medical camp. The news media had already arrived to cover the story, but were restricted to a perimeter until the army secured the entire area. Presently, I saw a shattered building, which used to be a school. The burnt down signboard still flaunted its name in green color. My heart was beating fast and quietly, I walked inside and took a look around.”

Major Aggarwal had a serious expression while he continued, “As I looked through the pile of destruction, I found something at a corner…” he paused and picked up the plastic water bottle and said, “I found this! A water bottle. I didn’t know to whom it belonged. There was no name on it. There were only some bloodstains on its sides! I held the water bottle in my hand and sat down on the floor. I didn’t know why, but tears rolled down from my eyes!”

I felt a sudden prick of pain in my heart when I heard the words of Major Aggarwal. He kept on saying, “After a while I came out from the school building, with the bottle in my hand. As I stepped out, a journalist from a leading newspaper came and asked me… Sir, what is the necessity of this war? Why do we fight and why such huge loss of life is being incurred?”

“I didn’t reply… I handed over the water bottle to her!” said Major Aggarwal, “The lady held the plastic bottle in her hands, looked at the bloodstains and began to weep. I said to her… We don’t want war. Nobody wants war. I strongly believe that a soldier on the opposite side of the border, too, feels the same! However, we are all fighting our own demons! We are fighting the demon, we humans create, and give rise to borders! Do you know to which child this water bottle belongs? Do you know whose bloodstains are those? Do you know whether the little innocent owner of this water bottle is still alive or not? No! … The answer is NO! And that is why we fight… We the soldiers who protect the nation, whichever country that might be, we fight so that no such bloodstained water bottle remains abandoned, and every child smilingly goes to school.”

Major Aggarwal held the water bottle high in the air and said, “That war is over now! However, we human-beings would perhaps never learn from the losses we suffer! Look at this water bottle. The innocence in its design, the little sipper on its top would paint the face of an innocent boy or girl drinking from it playfully. That image has haunted me for days and years! It will haunt you too. It will haunt every soldier here and across the border, but we have to do our duty! Only when the entire human race understands the futility of war, will peace prevail. Till then, I will continue to display this water bottle to as many people as possible as a symbol of the uselessness of rivalry and warfare!”

The pain that I felt within my heart, didn’t have any properly outlined boundary. Was it weeping for the owner of the bottle? Was it crying for the bloodstains? Was it lamenting the futility of enmity? I didn’t have an answer.

Major Aggarwal finished, “Today, on Independence Day, may this water bottle be a messenger of peace and harmony so that children across borders can live a life of harmony!”

Tonight, as I note down the above incidence, a few droplets of tears rolled down my cheeks from my eyes. I wanted to capture this emotion within the pages of my diary. Perhaps I might never meet Major Aggarwal again. However, the image of the water bottle will remain engraved in my heart, forever!