When Death Becomes Glorious

And instills courage and hope, not fear and despair

I was in my living room with my mother seated on the carpet on my right. She fixed her gaze on two objects in the room — a landline telephone instrument of the nineties perched on the high wooden corner stool. And on the left of it above the grey wall, a portrait of a smiling young man hung in an Army Captain’s Uniform. My mother looked at the picture and the telephone intermittently as she conversed with them in what looked like sign language. My father sat in an armchair staring at the ceiling. The pleasing interiors of the room suddenly became charmless! None of us could dare to look at them to seek some positive vibes as they used to previously reflect.

The Telephone Rang Anxiously

It was chilly past midnight in the year after December, but everyone in the room was lost so deep inside that they became unconscious of their outside surroundings. The telephone rang furiously and broke the silence of the night anxiously. Mother rushed and picked up the phone, listened for a minute and fainted. I held her tight and managed to make her lie down on the sofa. The phone receiver was hanging down in mid-air. I rushed to the kitchen to bring water for my mother. On the other side, the caller was echoing, “hello..hello”. My father reached for the receiver. I could not hear what he was listening to. I saw him petrified. I shook him nervously and inquired impatiently. “Ajai sacrificed himself,” he said.

I looked at my brother’s picture on the wall, and my cheeks were drenched with inconsolable tears. It was difficult for me to hold it together, for my grief forced me to vent out into a loud cry. But I had to calm down for my already shattered parents.

My elder brother Ajai was a captain in the Army. He joined six years before as a commissioned officer. Last week his unit was deployed to flush out the infiltrators on one of the very sensitive borders of our country. Since then, we always worried. Whenever we heard the news of casualties during the military operation, we stayed awake all night. At the moment, memory flashbacks of the time spent with my brother began to infiltrate my mind in an endless series of events since my childhood. In August, he had come to visit during his annual leave, and the family had arranged his marriage only a couple of months earlier in May. The news was too shocking for the family of his would-be bride to bear.

The Inconsolable Grief Of My Parents

I was not able to feel the irreparable loss of my parents like a parent for losing their young son. But I was lost entirely to lose my beloved brother, who never let me feel alone during his life. My words broke down to express how I felt within. My mind reluctantly dived deeper into the calamity. It surveyed the whole year that was full of tragic and stunning global events. It was the year when Ethiopian Jews were airlifted to Israel. Former Indian Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi was assassinated. The U.S.S.R came to a formal end. The United States announced nuclear cutbacks. It was an amazing year in the history of the Internet- the World Wide Web(www) was launched to the public.

I woke up hearing the newspaper vendor. “Enemy’s deadly bullets declined to stop an indomitable warrior. Captain Ajai kept on storming despite bleeding profusely till the last infiltrator breathed in our territory .” That was the headline the next day in all the newspapers in the country. The Army Chief personally visited our residence to pay homage to the departed stupendous soldier of unparalleled courage and unwavering dedication who had created a rare model of bravery for all the soldiers in the years and years to come. The Chief Minister of our state conveyed his and the Prime Minister’s condolences to the family and extended full government support.

Our relations, friends and strangers all expressed deep condolences while feeling proud of my brother’s sacrifice of his life. I was in a dilemma with regards to whether my brother’s Death was one to regret or rejoice, grieve or celebrate, or feel proud or sad. My brother was posthumously awarded the highest gallantry medal in the military by the President of our country. My mother proudly received the citation.

When Death Becomes Glory

At the final ceremonial proceeding, the compere commended Captain Ajai’s bravery to the congregation of a hundred thousand people. I could see sparkling drops of tears trickling down my mother’s cheeks. There was a prideful glory with no stain of disappointment.

We all agree that Death is an integral part of life. Those who live now must die someday. The Death of my brother had been so monumental that no one regretted it. It’s indeed a historic occasion when Death becomes glory and instills courage and hope, not fear and despair.