SALIM MUST DIE Read Online Free PDF Page B

freedom fighters, the mujahidin . Young kids, barely out of their teens, who didn't even realize that they were mere pawns in the unholy hands of some devilish general who, for his petty political ambitions, wanted to divert the attention of his countrymen from the problems their country was plagued with.
    Arjun was leading the assault company, from the front, the way he'd been taught. The way the Indian Army always goes into battle.
    They cleared the mosque in a few hours and then began combing the area around for militants who'd escaped in the fog of battle. It was the second-last house in the village. Arjun entered right after the point man. There were just two girls in the house, mere youngsters, barely ten years old.
    ‘Did anyone come in here?’ the point man asked.
    Both girls shook their heads.
    ‘Okay.’ Arjun motioned to the point man. ‘Let's go.’ He turned to follow him as he exited.
    Arjun was almost through the door when the little girl huddled in the extreme corner shot him.
    ‘I don't think Arjun would have even felt the bullet.’
    It must have been a fluke shot, because it couldn't have been done better, even if an expert marksman had aimed it. It went clean through the back of Arjun's head and disintegrated his face.
    Both the kids went down in a blaze of gunfire as the point man retaliated, his fear ensuring that the magazine was empty before he even thought of releasing the trigger.
    ‘Hey, are you there?’ Kanal's voice broke into Anbu's numbed reverie.
    ‘Yes,’ Anbu replied when the question finally registered. ‘I'm right here.’
    ‘The body is being flown in… it should be here in a couple of hours. The funeral is in the… at… yes, I know… I'm so sorry….’
    ‘I'll be there, Sanjeev. Of course I'll be there. Thanks for calling me,’ Anbu replied, his mind still numb as he mechanically replaced the receiver.
    How can Arjun be dead? It seems like only yesterday that we first met.
    Anbu, being the senior subaltern, had come to meet him at the railway station when Arjun had first reported to the battalion after his familiarization training at the regimental centre.
    It seemed like only yesterday that they had done the weapons course together. It seemed like only yesterday that they had scaled the icy mountain peaks of Kargil to throw the marauding Pakistanis off Indian soil. It seemed like only yesterday that Anbu had come across Arjun wiping his tears near the bodies of his men.
    ‘Why?’ Arjun's voice was anguished as he pointed at one of the mangled bodies lying in a neat row before them; the neatness with which they were laid out only served to highlight the horrific shape they were in. ‘He'd just returned from leave after getting married. Why him?’
    ‘Is there ever any reason? Can there ever be any justification for all this?’ Anbu sighed, waving an arm at the battlefield around them. ‘Come on, Arjun. They've done their duty, now it's time for us to do ours.’ He touched his shoulder briefly, compassionately.
    The gesture broke through to Arjun more than the words, pulling him back from that abysmal brink which is often called battlefield trauma and which afflicts even the bravest of soldiers.
    ‘You're right,’ Arjun whispered, more to himself than to be heard, ‘I am a soldier and an officer… I cannot lose control.’
    ‘That's right, Arjun. It is our karma to lead men into battle… with no second thoughts.’ The two comrades had walked away, both the stronger for it all.
    It seemed like only yesterday that they had met at the Defence Service Officers Institute and shared a couple of beers. Arjun had been on his way home, for the delivery of his second child.
    He had called Anbu when the baby arrived. ‘This one is a daughter… thank god… yeah, yeah, she's fine too… and sends all of you her love. Thanks a lot.’ Even now the excitement and happiness in Arjun's voice reverberated in Anbu's memory.
    The memories continued to crowd in, and Anbu could