A Soldier's Debt - EXCERPTS--A

The coffee arrived. We picked our cups. A smoky aroma filled the room. Coffee was refreshing.

“What’s going on in East Pakistan?” Shahjahan understood I directed the question at him even though I was looking at the cup in hand.

He thought for a while and replied, “Don’t you read papers? Listen to radio?”

Noting the formal nature of his response, I tried an alternative and asked if he received any letter from home lately. Understanding what I was trying to find out, he said that he had one last month and it took nearly a month to reach him.

“Nothing much in it,” he said. “They go through censors, I am told.”

“So I heard.” I also told him that my father was a Pakistan lover. He wrote nice things, more so to ensure that his letters reached me. They invariably contained requests for money. My girlfriend from Chittagong gave subtle hints of trouble. “But, dosta, I am somewhat confused. I can’t accept everything the BBC, Air India and others say.”

Mahi concurred about the overseas media reports, further adding that he too was in dark about the situation there.

“I still wonder,” I continued, “why our 2-I/C said, ‘Khuda bachay Pakistan ko, God save Pakistan, and it was an ‘ugly mission’ there.”

“Did he?” Shahjahan asked. He leaned forward and whispered, “I still don’t trust these bastards. If I had my way, kodal diya halago dhan kaitta bichi bainda lotkaiya ditam.” He would chop their private parts off with a spade and hang them by their balls. Mahi giggled out. But I read his mind.

“Shut up, Rashed!” he screamed. Again, a few heads turned toward us. In a suppressed tone, he continued, “Are you crazy? How could you think of something like that? Do you think the infantry detachment there would have spared you?”

In addition to the regular border rangers, the post maintained an infantry platoon, usually commanded by a junior officer. At that moment, I overlooked the presence of the infantry and its security setup. The genocide and the destruction in East Pakistan overwhelmed my thoughts and an urge for revenge was brewing inside. I concurred that the infantrymen would not remain idle, but insisted that I had the element of surprise.

“I could dodge them and race toward India in my jeep before anyone could figure out what had happened. You know how close the border is."

For a minute or so, Mahi remained in a state of shock, speechless.

“You can close your jaw now," I reminded him. "And don't give me that look. Passengers are watching."

We did not talk for some time. But I was not willing to accept the opportunity I had lost. I held his left hand with my right and tried to justify, "Look, my friend. We are at war, aren't we?”

“Yes, but I am sure they would have gotten you." He paused a little and then reminded me that the infantry detachment certainly had the advance knowledge of the generals’ visit and had made adequate security arrangements.

I thought for a few seconds and explained that they had directed their security arrangements outside, against India, and I had never seen any weapon pointing inwards. I repeated that the surprise and shock element would have worked in my favor.

“Even if they got me,” I said in a self-assured pride, “so what? Wouldn’t it be a glorious fall after such a feat in the war we are fighting, my friend?”

Another round of silence followed while Mahi kept gazing at me intensely.

“Rashed, I am worried about you."

ADDITIONAL EXCERPTS FROM THE MANUSCRIPT