My love on a mission
“You know who i am? I am someone you can't even think of. You're a kid and you won't understand such things.”Swastik had said when we chatted online five years back. I didn't question him further because at that time it really didn't matter who he was or what he did. I was desperately looking for a friend who could help me sail through the rough waters of my life.
That was the time when i had broken up with my boyfriend Vikram. He was double dating me n a classmate of mine. I was shattered, i resorted to the virtual world to vent out my pain. Thats when i met Swastik. Slowly we became good friends and started chatting for 3-4 hours a day, exchanged numbers and then there was no looking back.
Distance never mattered
I knew him for six months and found a true friend in him, more importantly a good human being. The fact that he was in Delhi and I, in Kolkata never mattered. Somewhere I was getting used to him: his calls, his smses, his concern his scoldings, all made me happy, but, while I was basking in the glory of this new found happiness of mine, i never realized Swastik never spoke about his work or office.
One day, unable to withhold my curiosity, i asked him, “Swastik, where do u work? You said you are someone i can't even think of. What exactly do you.........”
“Please don't ask me things which i can't answer. I don't like sayin no to you,”came his reply even before i had finished my question. I accepted it and thought probably it was badly timed. But i was proved wrong when one afternoon i received a call from him.
That unexpected call
The background was very noisy and he sounded worried. “Baby, there is an emergency here and i will have to leave immediately for Kashmir. My phone will not be working for the next few days and i don't know when i will be back. But i assure you one thing: i will come back. After meeting you i want to live. You have given me new hope. I love you and will wait for your answer. Take care.” the line went dead for the next five minutes i couldn't understand what he meant.
Then slowly the air got cleared. Swastik was going to Kashmir, a state where death was synonymous with life.....oh god, this meant his life was in danger! But then why would he go to Kashmir all of a sudden? Is he a soldier? Or is he from the intelligence wing? I hope he's not a terrorist, i wondered. But above all, what mattered to me was that he loved me. I understood why he always made me speak and he himself preferred to be a silent listener.
Instantly, i tried his number, it was unreachable. I mailed him, messaged him, but no reply. A day passes, a week passed and his number was still not reachable. I started following the newspaper regularly but Kashmir was not in the news. I lost my concentration and kept thinking about him all day.
And the reality emerged
fifteen days had passed, when i got a call from a “private number”. The voice was an unfamiliar one. He said, “ i am Swastik's friend, ishaan. He had asked em to call you if he couldn't make it.......he passed away this morning. We had accomplished the task successfully but he was badly injured and died on his way to Delhi...” After a long pause he added, “he said he loved you and wished to spend his life with you. He wanted to thank you for seeing him as a person and not a.....” he hesitated and just added, “ take care,” and the line went dead. Once again.
Next day the headlines read, “terrorists attack in Kashmir”. Till date i don't know what was Swastik's profession. But i would love to believe he was a martyr.
Swati jainfiction story in times of india, [whats hot, saturday, march 15, 2008]
