The Fearless and Valiant Sons of India

Ayman Muhammed, IIK Young Reporter
Tuesday, August 1, 2023

In an outpost 200 kilometers away from Srinagar, a hum of music fills the camp with light. There is complete silence except for the melodious tunes and rhythms of vocals being expressed out. Laying on the hammock is - Vivaan Azad a veteran of many battles, a hero to the men, a tough, well trained soldier. His name, was the last wish of his father, who died fighting for independence, killed by the cruel hands of the British.

As he sits in the radio room enjoying the beautiful song and planning about all the stuff, to do when he gets back home. He thinks about the strawberry bushes around the house, the beautiful garden down the lane, the fair and the market crowd. His family, his cute little daughter, her sweet voice, he remembers of all the sweets he has bought for her. He opens his suitcase, he sees the small blue train and the soft teddy bear, and he imagines her surprise and her happy face, her small smile.

Suddenly! He gets a radio transmission - “Enemies have crossed the border, advancing towards the outpost, hold defensive positions, I repeat enemies have crossed the border advancing towards the outpost, hold defensive positions”. These words echoed in the ears of Azad, all of his planning his holiday, everything……. shattered in front of him. But it’s his duty to protect the nation, with a big heart he goes to report the news to his fellow mates.

It’s 3:00 Am, early in the morning, darkens still looms in the sky, only the biting cold winds attack the soldiers, no enemy is found. Azad hold his breath and scans the area, it’s been about an hour after they had taken positions. Suddenly he sees something moving, some leaves rustling, some faint footsteps. He aims at the sound, unclear about the enemy’s position, he hints all the other men towards the source of movement. The snowy weather, and freezing temperatures with a sudden fog blur his vision, but he could make out the position. A bullet zips out through his rifle directly hitting the enemy soldier, who falls down.

The enemy alarmed about the situation open fires at the Azad’s position. Bullets rip past the snowy ground, as Azad quickly take’s cover, but he does not escape it all, a bullet hits him in the shoulder, blood pours out. He shouts out loud “enemy fire……., hit……, go on……” Hearing these words the others open fire at the enemy. Azad trying to treat his wound takes out a bandage from his pocket and sticks it over his injury. But the cold weather doesn’t allow the pain to cool down.

Azad reloads his rifle and open fire again, again and again. Now that the fog was dispersing he could see the exact size of the army. It was huge, more than 200 hundred men, he with only around 40 men were no match for the enemy. He knew that if they took defensive positions they can counter and attack them from behind and quickly march on, so he thought that the only way to save more time for the army at the base, was to attack. Azad quickly looked at his fellow men and then with a sigh on his face. He jumped out of his position and yelled out loud “भारत जीतेगा भारत हमेशा जीतेगा” he ran through the battlefield only stopping to fire and reload.

The enemy bewildered at the sight of a soldier charging towards them opened fire. Even after he taking many hits, Azad didn’t stop he fired round after round, each time killing an enemy soldier. His face and body covered with blood, sent chills down each soldiers’ spines. As he approached the enemy position he shouted at them “तुम कभी नहीं जीतोगे”. Just as he was about to repeat it, a bullet hit him in the chest, he fell to the ground lying unconscious, but the words in his mouth did not stop coming out “जाओ मेरे भाइयों जाओ उन्हें नरक दो, भारत जीतेगा, भारत जीतेगा” he continuously kept on saying them until his voice faded out.

Far, far away in a veranda sits a young bright face, her hair braided smooth, her silky pink frock, her face filled with joy and impatience, for someone very special. She looks out onto the road, and dreams on for hours.

This is a story dedicated to all the brave and fearless jawans who sacrificed their own lives fighting for our Motherland.
Jai Hind!!

Ayman Muhammed
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