[nukkad] [Fwd: At 15,000ft death is steely, silent]

[Ninad Chhaya <ninad@bom4.vsnl.net.in>]

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Amit A Mayekar wrote:
> 
> > ----------
> > >
> > >
> > > At 15,000ft death is steely, silent
> > >  Wilson John / New Delhi
> > >
> > > In Batalik, you can't breathe normally. There is less oxygen there. The
> > > air is rarefied. The lungs scream for oxygen. The blood vessels cry for
> > > oxygen. At 15000-ft, you are not normal. You cannot be. The human body
> is
> > > attuned to a certain altitude.
> > >
> > > And that's where our soldiers are. Fighting the enemy. Facing the
> > > bullets.Dying alone in the snow. Falling to  death from the high
> ridges.
> > > No one hears their scream. It's such a lonely death. A tiny piece of
> metal
> > > is all what it takes to die.
> > >
> > > They are our infantry men. The finest in the world. No other soldier
> has
> > > ever fought at these heights. At 15000ft, they can't move with ease. In
> > > Batalik, there are no tracks. Climb. Clamber. Crawl. A soldier carries
> a
> > > week's ration, ammunition, a 5.56mm assault rifle or a mortar or a
> > > rocket launcher. He carries over 20 KGs on his back as he pulls himself
> up
> > > on this rugged, cruel terrain.
> > >
> > > He doesn't sleep. He doesn't have time to eat. Life is not what it is.
> > > Life is a shell. It is the terror of death. It is the courage of facing
> it.
> > > It is fear, raw, unalloyed, unrelenting....the enemy is up there,
> somewhere
> > > hidden. It can see you, can track you down like a rat, can pick you out
> > > so effortlessly...and yet these men move, slowly but with determination
> to
> > > fight for the nation. To die for the nation.
> > >
> > > You know how it feels to be up there in the cold, cold mountains,
> > > carrying a heavy backpack with a gnawing fear that you will never see
> your
> > > eight-year-old daughter. That sweet little thing with a ponytail and a
> > > smile that lights up your world. You may not hear her giggles, see her
> climb
> > > your shoulder, run around, throw her dolls in anger, paint the walls in
> > > doodles....You will not be there for her.
> > >
> > > You know what fear is. That is the fear. Not being there. Death is not
> > > what matters. What matters is that you will not matter anymore. And yet
> the
> > > soldiers go up the hills, like the charge of the light brigade, never
> > > asking questions, never expecting an answer. They know they have a
> duty, they
> > > have a pledge, they have a promise to keep. Their tryst with destiny.
> > >
> > > It is not easy to imagine a soldier, an infantry man's life up there in
> > > Batalik, where the wind can sear your windpipe, chill your brains, make
> > > your eyes weep with pain and lungs cry out in sheer exhaustion.
> > >
> > > Brave. That is what these soldiers are. Brave in the face of death.
> > > Brave in the face of fear. Facing bullets. Forty-six of them are dead.
> Many
> > > more will die. Let not their death go waste, unacknowledged. Let us not
> have
> > > a memorial to Unknown Soldiers.
> > >
> > >
> >
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------
> > --
> > > WE BOW DOWN TO THOSE UNSUNG WARRIORS OF THE NATION
> > >
> >
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------
> > --
> > > I just wish I could also Join them. But the least that can be done is
> > > FWD
> > > this to every Indian I know so that they too are PROUD TO BE AN INDIAN
> > >
> >
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------
> >

-- 
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