Check out 16 Return-To-Work Programs In India For Ambitious Women Like You!
This is a short story keeping in mind the sacrifices and perils our armed forces and their families undergo, most of which go unnoticed in the civilian world.
Four year old Nyssa was playing with her bunny Troy, a white toy bunny with shades of brown. It was a gift by her father, the previous Christmas. It looked at her with its deep black eyes as she softly whispered in its ears, “Hush, hush, Troy! Papa is coming home!”
Sarah Jane stared blankly at the ceiling as her new born was sleeping peacefully next to her, oblivious to the effect the sudden twist of fate had had on him. She then called out to Nyssa and hugged her tight. The tears flowed. They won’t stop.
Shirley Tomas placed the rosary beads back in the drawer. She had held them in her hand long enough since the dreaded phone call 9 hours ago. She prayed for a long time. Her heart failed to accept the truth even as her mind came to terms with the fact, that she could never relive the phone conversation with her son, about a day ago. And then, a tall man appeared next to her and said, “It is time.”
There was a big crowd that had gathered outside the villa of Retd Brig Benji Tomas. The old man stood at the entrance of his two storeyed villa. His face was expressionless, as always. His mustache was neat and trimmed. His rimmed spectacles made it hard to look into his jet black eyes. He stood tall, impeccably dressed in a white shirt, striped scarf, brown corduroys and well polished wellingtons. His wife, Shirley stood there alongside her husband, with glazed eyes as though they looked into another world. Matrix, their German Shepherd stood by as if on guard.
And then, the old couple looked up as a huge army truck came at their door step. The moment was overwhelming. The moment stilled the air. The moment was deafening as, Maj Neil Tomas, the hero of Ernakulam, the son of Retd Brig Benji Tomas had arrived home, for ever.
The lion-heart who had stood by his oath, fought his adversaries with all his might, and took the bullet on himself to protect his comrade, had come home to his family, in a mahogany coffin draped gracefully in the tricolor with a huge wreath resting on it.
Shirley Tomas staggered as the old man held her by her arm, lest she should fall. Her only child now lay there sleeping in that coffin, never to open his eyes again to feel his father’s hug, his mother’s kiss, his wife’s love, his daughter’s delightful squeals and his day old son’s sweet little nothings…”Lord, guide us in our hour of need!”
Maj Neil Tomas had arrived at his final resting place, a martyr. And then, the stars welcomed him…to their abode.
Author’s note: The above is an attempt at a short story from my side, as a testimonial dedicated to the brave hearts of our country like Maj Raghuram, Maj Mukund, Capt Deepak Sharma and many more…who have sacrificed their lives, guarding our motherland.
Image source: Indian armyman with rifle by Shutterstock.
A software engineer in the past, a content writer, an amateur blogger, an avid reader and traveler, an engaging conversationalist, an army wife, a pre school teacher and importantly, an incurable optimist! read more...
Women's Web is an open platform that publishes a diversity of views, individual posts do not necessarily represent the platform's views and opinions at all times.
Stay updated with our Weekly Newsletter or Daily Summary - or both!
Neena was the sole caregiver of Amma and though one would think that Amma was dependent on her, Neena felt otherwise.
Neena inhaled the aroma that emanated from the pan and took a deep breath. The aroma of cumin interspersed with butter transported her back to the modest kitchen in her native village. She could picture her father standing in the kitchen wearing his white crisp kurta as he made delectable concoctions for his only daughter.
Neena grew up in a home where both her parents worked together in tandem to keep the house up and running. She had a blissful childhood in her modest two-room house. The house was small but every nook and cranny gave her memories of a lifetime. Neena’s young heart imagined that her life would follow the same cheerful course. But how wrong she was!
When she was sixteen, the catastrophic clutches of destiny snatched away her parents. They passed away in a road accident and Neena was devastated. Relatives thronged her now gloomy house and soon it was decided that she should be married off.
Being a writer, Nivedita Louis recognises the struggles of a first-time woman writer and helps many articulate their voice with development, content edits as a publisher.
“I usually write during night”, says author Nivedita Louis during our conversation. Chuckling she continues,” It’s easier then to focus solely on writing. Nivedita Louis is a writer, with varied interests and one of the founders of Her Stories, a feminist publishing house, based in Chennai.
In a candid conversation she shared her journey from small-town Tamil Nadu to becoming a history buff, an award-winning author and now a publisher.
Nivedita was born and raised in a small town in Tamil Nadu. It was for schooling that she first arrived in Chennai. Then known as Madras, she recalls being awed by the city. Her love-story with the city, its people and thus began which continues till date. She credits her perseverance and passion to make a difference to her days as a vocational student among the elite sections of Madras.
Please enter your email address