Chapter 4 Five days, Five poems

 Marina's pov :

 After two months,  every relatives of soldiers who fought for the nation were called  for the felicitation, for reward. Me too.

     I was eight months pregnant but I decided to go. I saw lots of wives there who were crying there for their husbands but I had already stopped crying. Tears no more fell down my cheeks because I couldn't cry until I find my husband's dead body. If I find my husband's dead body, then I have to think about the cries and tears but until then, I have sealed my eyes.

      With the heavy  heart, I went to the capital. When I went on the felicitation program. He was listed dead.I got really disappointed and that disappointment led me, to say to remove his name from the dead list. They said he was dead.

     "So,  give me his dead body, then,"I asked for his dead body but they said it's impossible for them to find one.

     "Then,  remove his name from here, please. I will claim him to be dead only when I get his body, "I knelt in front of them .

     But they didn't listen to me. I was left there unanswered and helpless. When I was crying there someone came and raised me. That was when I felt someone's warm hands on my shoulders.

     He raised me and took me to one of the benches there.

       "I'll bring you a glass of water. " He went to bring a glass of water for me to drink and returned with one.

       "Here, " he stretched out the hands with glass.

       I drank a glass of water and after finishing it, handing him the glass back to him, I said,"They said he died, but they don't give me his dead body. How can I believe that? "

       I looked at his name tag.

       "You're a sergeant too. Do you know my husband,Sergeant Nickin ?"

      "Yes,  we were on same squad,"  he said and then he stopped and felt awkward to speak.

      "So,  you might have known whether he was dead or not? "

      He looked at the sides but didn't speak.

      Then,  he said,

      "I think you should go home. Where are you staying here? "

       I looked at him and smiled in a poking way, "You also can't answer my question and sending me away. Okay, whatever you want but I won't believe my husband  is dead. "

      Then,  he said, "But..".. he stammered and didn't say anything.I stood up and walked away, to the quarter where the soldiers wives were kept.

     When I reached on gate, someone called me from behind.As, I was eight months pregnant, it was really difficult for me turn around. With a great difficulty, I looked back and then saw the same sergeant. He ran to me and stood before me and saluted,

       " I'm sergeant, Jacob,Madam. Here's something I wanna give you," he said.

      He took out the some papers in front of me and said, "Sergeant Nickin was a really awesome person. He is my hero. I felt proud to be in his squad. "And handed me the papers and said, "These are the poem that he wrote on his last days. I think these should be handed to you, " I could sense the feeling of guilty in him.

     One thing was sure,his dead was not the normal one. Sergeant Jacob's face had told me that he wanted to tell me something but he wasn't able to tell me. What was it?

     I took the papers and went to the quarter. There were other women, too.

     One of them asked, "How many months? " observing the big  swollen tummy of mine.
     I sat down and said, "Eight. "

     "Oh my God. So pitiful that you lost your husband at this stage of time, " she said.

    I just looked at her and she said, "I lost mine too. His body had seven bullets hole. How can they shoot him, that much? I couldn't even  watch the bullet holes ,they were scary.It must had been painful. "

     Then, she started  to tear out too. And others, too. I knew then, these woman all lost their husbands and had their own story of like that of mine. They had their stories to shed their tears.

     I looked at the papers at night. Each paper had a poem without a title in it. The papers were dusty and they were folded for a long time and were about to tear. I could see the fingerprints in blood too. They were numbered as 1,2,3,4, and 5 at the top of each paper.

      I took out the first one with the number one, , It was written as,

    My combats are heavy,

    My boots are uncomfortable,

    My toes are all in pain, 

    But,  still I stand, stand to fight, 

    Though my efforts may go in vain, 

    When I see in the sky, 

    The black clouds of nuclear weapons are seen, 

    It has been so long,

    I haven't seen stars, I wonder how have they been.

      My eyes was already watery. I promised not to shed tears,  not now,I turned the paper and and read the next one,

     I hear the sounds of rifles and guns,

     The cries of people in pain they shuns,

     Nowhere to rest, nowhere to relieve these burns, 

     My comrades, they lay beside me, 

     Asleep, in a deep sleep, I see, 

     No plan to wake up, no plan to eat, 

     Coldness I feel in them, no feel of heat, 

     Maybe I'll be the one, tomorrow or the next day, 

      My head should not bow even when deep on ground I stay,

       
       I tend to stop them but they couldn't.They landed on the papers as the destroyed parachute fall fast on the ground, I went to the next one the third one,

       My right stand is injured,

       Couples of bullets maybe, 

       I don't have time to see, 

       For the grenades are hungry, 

       Hungry of my blood, 

       The guns are thirsty, 

       To pour down the blood as flood, 

       My eyes are sore of sleeplessness and fright, 

       My pains no matter, for the mother I fight.

       After reading this, I couldn't stop myself and started to tear down and  a woman near to awoke and saw me broken down. She came to me and kept me in her chest and patted me on my shoulders.

      "Everything will be alright, dear. Everything. Everything has its end. This too will end, soon," she said. 

    The moon was bright,more brighter than that of yesterday. The sky was clearer and I could see lots of stars, that day. He also longed to see those stars but couldn't see them. I felt as if they were sparkling brightly to comfort me, they were twinkling as they couldn't before as a compensation.

      This was the perfect time to read his poems. Because, this was the scene his soul and his body longed to see,  a perfect,peaceful and clear sky which was polluted after all the dust of bombs were released.

       I sat at one of the corner and took out my torch and lit it on the poem and started to read the fourth one,

       My bodies are numb, I have no clue, 

       My combats are torn,my wounded skin is shown, 

        The short hairs and beard, long have they grown, 

        Her calm face comes again and again, 

        In front of the shutter of my eye, 

        Her eyes teary, teary in vain, 

        Her lips on the mark to cry, 

        I miss the sun, moon and stars, 

        In this deadly battlefield afar, 

        Slowly, my eye sights are starting to fade, 

        Waiting for that friend called uncertain death.

        I took another one. The more I read his poems, the more it was making  my heart to break down, again  and again,

     Oh! My dear love! Where had you reached, 

     I'm waiting for you, Under this dreadful sky,

     But we never can meet,our distances are high, 

     What I cherish you do not do, 

     What you like,I don't do too, 

     Wherever you live,my heart will search, 

     Wherever you stay, my feet will approach, 

     But ,my feet will stop going near to you, 

     For I like you a lot, but what to do, you don't do, 

     I can live for you, as well as die, 

    But you could have loved me, for me to try, 

    I won't force you,neither let you cry, 

    I'll love you silently, until my eyes are dry. 

      These last poem was meant for me. He remembered me, he remembered me. With my tear filled eyes, which had no courage to bring out the sounds, I looked at the the sky,  which was so different from what he had written on that day. I wished only if, he could see that. I sat there the whole night thinking lots of stuff.

     The last stuff that I thought that night was to find  Sergeant Jacob. I had to find him. I needed to know about the death of my husband. I need to find the reason behind his death. I wasn't feeling good with the reason they gave me.

     The next day, what I wanted to do at first was to meet Sergeant Jacob.It wasn't difficult to find him but he seemed to be avoiding me. How much I tried, he didn't want to meet me.

     But I had to talk to him. I had to know the truth.I won't get satisfied until I get the answer that  would make me content.

       I had to return on that day to my home but I preferred not to return back until my I get my answer. I waited for him, so long but he didn't came.

     But,  I couldn't return. I waited him for him two days and two nights and after two days and two nights, I was sent to hospital due to my condition.

    How could I suffer this much? I just wanted to know what they were hiding but nobody was telling me.

    I stayed in hospital for two days. But,  during those days, I could feel, someone sulking and stalking on me. Who could stalk me?

    On the second night,  someone peeked from the door but I couldn't see who was it ?

     I couldn't follow him, I was more than  just scared.But after,  sometime he went away.

    On the midnight, I again felt that same weird feeling but that time, I wanted to see myself when was it? Though, it calls for my dead?

     I  opened the door in a fear, but when I opened the door, I found Sergeant Jacob outside it.

     "Why are you here? Are you the one,the person before? "I had so many why question in me.

     "Mam, you shouldn't be here long. You shouldn't ask lots of questions here. Don't make yourself particular, now. Otherwise, you may be killed. Please, just return your home safely. "

    I had a confusion all over my face but I was sure that something was really wrong.Something was really missed. I wanted to find that missed clue in there.

    "Can't you tell me? I just want to know where my husband is? please .."I cried in front  of him.

     "It would have been better,  if you hadn't insisted. It could have really kept you away from problems. It would have been better, if you had been silent and accepted your fate. Everything starts with a voice. You also started this thing with your voice. You decided to raise yours,  so the consequences, you have to take care. "

    "What do you mean by that? "

     "If you want to know about everything, then meet me tomorrow.Not here. Somewhere far away where no militaries are seen. "

      He wrote me an address and a number and told, "Contact me in this number and go to this address tomorrow and meet me there at 5 evening. "

     He just gave me that piece of paper and went away. My heart pounded  in a nervous and scared pace. What if I couldn't handle the truth tomorrow?But, I was  assured that, the next day, I would have all of my answers. I would be free from the queries tomorrow. For me that was the most restless night. I couldn't sleep the whole night. What truth? What consequences?