Chapter Seven
They had been waiting to meet him as soon as the graduation ceremony had ended, and immediately his Abu had hugged him warmly, tears in his eyes, while his mother cried openly, kissing him on both cheeks.
"Today you continue a proud family tradition." His Abu had told him, "Whatever you do, remember that your country's honour and safety always comes before your own. You are an officer in the Indian Army now, your country must always come first."
Hussein had nodded seriously, feeling every word of his father's advice.
"But most of all, never forget that you are upholding the beliefs of the man you were named after." His father had continued, "And that no matter what the cost, you must fight for truth and justice, you must support what is right."
And Hussein had looked up at the photo hanging on the wall of fame, the photo which had watched over him every day of his two years at KMA, which had always given him strength in difficult times.
He will uphold the traditions of Captain Rajveer Singh Shekawat, he will bring glory to his namesake's memory.
And he will never, ever let his parents down.
Because he knows that for them, keeping the principles and beliefs of their lost friend and mentor alive is all that's allowed them to survive all these years without them.
Because more than anything else, he feels the weight of the responsibility attached to his name upon his shoulders.
He will prove to his parents that he is worthy of his name.
/
There are two days of the year when Hussein's mother always cries, from the time she wakes up until she finally falls asleep, exhausted and still sobbing quietly. On these days Hussein's normally calm father will cry as well, even as he tries to comfort his distraught wife.
When he was small, Hussein had never understood the reasons why his mother wept. He would hug her, placing his small arms around her comfortingly, while she would kiss him repeatedly and try to tell him that she was alright.
On these two days, Hussein's Abu and Ammi always take the day off work. Some years Hussein's aunts and uncles would also join them, depending on where they were all posted at the time. On these days the first thing that his family would always do without fail was to visit both the mosque and the gurudwara, to offer prayers and give charity.
It was when he was eight years old that his father finally told him the truth.
"For only two days of the entire year, your Ammi allows herself to truly feel her grief." His Abu had told him, "For the rest of the time she stays strong for the sake of all of us."
"But why does Ammi cry?" Young Hussein had asked his father, "What is she so sad about?"
"She cries because today is the anniversary of the day her best friend, your Aunt Naina died." His Abu had explained.
"And what about the other day that she cries?" Hussein had asked.
"That was the day that Captain Rajveer Singh Shekawat died, Rajveer Singh Shekawat who you were named after and who made your Ammi and I what we both are today."
Up until this point, Hussein and his sister had always heard stories of their parents' academy days, their friends, pranks and fun. But it was the first time that death had ever been mentioned.
Every year from that point onwards, his parents had revealed more and more of the story to their children. Hussein and his sister Anjali had asked to be told the stories again and again, slowly memorising them by heart.
He had never met either Naina Singh Ahluwalia or Rajveer Singh Shekawat, having been born after both of their deaths. Yet he had felt as if he knew them, as if they were friends and guides whose example he could look to in order to show him the right path in difficult times.
And their faces… he could picture their faces even when he closed his eyes because every day their faces had been one of the first things he saw in the morning. Their photos had hung prominently in the pride of place on the living room wall, and every day he would pranam these photos with folded hands, taking their blessings before leaving the house. They had been with him throughout his academy days too, where they hung on the wall of fame as if watching over him.
Today when he had seen that face in front of him, it was as if the dead had come to life.
Which, Hussein supposed, they really had.
"It really is her, isn't it?" He asks Aalekh, "The moment I saw her…"
"Yes," Aalekh replies quietly, "It really is."
They're sitting in Aalekh's room, drinking coffee. Hussein closes his fingers around the mug, allowing himself to feel the warmth. He thinks he might be in shock, because he's having trouble working out what he should be doing or saying or feeling. He can't even imagine what Colonel Sharma would have felt when he saw her… what he would've gone through.
"When you saw her…" he starts to say, and Aalekh smiles sadly.
"She was the second one that I saw." He tells Hussein.
"Then he… he…."
"Yes." Aalekh replies, nothing more needs to be said.
It's a miracle, there's no other way to describe it. Hussein thinks of all those years of his mother and father crying and praying for the souls of their friends to be given peace, to be given happiness.
"Ammi, Abu…" he starts to say, but Aalekh cuts him off.
"I haven't told anyone yet, I don't know if I should or not. If they know then they'll want to come and see them… it's only natural. And I don't know how either Naina or Rajveer would cope if they found out the truth."
Hussein thinks about this deeply, considering Aalekh's decision not to tell anybody. He thinks of the pain that his parents try to hide, the pain that all of those who were affected try to hide.
And yet he understands.
Because it shouldn't be about what's best for those who were left behind; now that they know those they lost have a second chance, they should do their best to protect them. Even if it means keeping the truth from them.
Hussein nods, wishing that it could be different, but agreeing with Aalekh's decision.
"Whatever happens, Uncle Aalekh, I'm with you." He tells him.
Aalekh closes his hands over Hussein's, feeling as if at least part of a burden has been lifted off his shoulders. The pressure of keeping a secret like this has nearly crushed him under the weight of his loneliness… and at last there is someone else who understands, someone else to keep the secret with him.
Aalekh knows that Hussein Rajveer Ali Baig won't let him down.
He has always been true to his name.
/
Entering the mess that night for dinner, Hussein looks for a free place to sit and spots one opposite Asha and Amiya. Hesitating for only a moment, he heads for the table and sits down opposite them.
"Hi," he greets them, feeling a bit self conscious but making an effort to appear normal.
"Hi," Asha replies, sticking her hand across the table and Hussein shakes it. "I'm Asha Dutt, it was Hussein, right?"
"Yes." Hussein shakes her hand with a smile. In many ways she is how he had imagined her for so long, and in many ways completely different.
"And I'm Amiya," Amiya shakes his hand too, "If I'm remembering correctly, Hussein Rajveer Ali Baig… now that's an interesting name."
"Amiya…" Asha half scolds her, "Don't be so nosy."
"Hussein doesn't mind, do you Hussein?" Amiya asks him with a grin. "And is Colonel Sharma really your uncle?"
"No," Hussein admits, laughing. "Uncle Aalekh is actually a friend of my parents from their time at the academy."
"Oh so both of your parents are in the army then?" Asha asks, "You're continuing a family tradition."
"You have no idea… I'm the fourth generation on my father's side. Both my grandfather and great grandfather were in the army."
"So what are your parents' names?" Amiya asks, still trying to get more information out of him, and Asha gives her another stern look.
"Colonel Ali Baig and Major Pooja Baig," Hussein tells them, and Amiya grins as if she has just won a prize.
"I knew it," she exclaims, "With a mixed name like yours, your parents had to be different religions. It must have been a love marriage, right? How did they meet? Was it difficult for them?"
"Amiya!" Asha scolds her yet again, "You know you don't have to answer that if you don't want to." She tells Hussein.
"It's alright," Hussein replies, "I'm happy to tell you their story if you'd like to hear it."
"Of course I do," Amiya replies, "What do you think I've been trying to find out from you for the last five minutes?"
Asha laughs at her friend's behaviour and then nods, "I'd like to hear it too." She tells him.
"Well when Abu and Ammi met, they were cadets Ali Baig and Pooja Ghai at Kanchanjunga Military Academy." He tells them, watching Asha's face carefully. Her expression changes at the mention of his parents' names, almost as if there's a twinge of recognition. "They first became friends and then fell in love, but it took them a long time to admit how they felt about each other. When they finally did, they agreed to keep their relationship secret until they could convince their parents."
He pauses to see the girls both nodding, and then continues.
"Their friends guessed anyway and supported them… and when they graduated from the academy, Ammi and Abu told their parents, but my grandparents weren't happy about the match. They told my parents that they should forget each other, and choose somebody more suitable."
"That's terrible!" Amiya exclaims, "Thank god that things have changed somewhat since those days."
Hussein glances at Asha and finds her concentrating hard, waiting for his next words. He wonders whether while she doesn't remember his parents, she still feels something listening to their story, still wishes for the happy outcome she never got to see.
"For four years they waited… and tried to convince their parents." Hussein tells them, "Nothing worked, both sets of parents threatened to never talk to their children again if they got married."
"So what happened?" Asha asks quietly, unsure of why she feels so attached to the outcome, why the love story of these strangers matters to her so much.
"Their best friend died… was martyred in a terrorist attack." Hussein admits, "And her last request was that they not waste any more time because life is too short to be wasted. So two month later, Ammi and Abu eloped. It took my grandparents awhile to give in, after I was born they started talking to my parents again, and then when my sister Anjali was born they forgave them properly."
"What a beautiful story," Amiya tells him sincerely, "Honestly somebody should make your parents' love story into a movie, right Asha?" She looks over at her friend to find that Asha now has tears in her eyes.
"Look at you," she tells her with a smile, "Becoming emotional over love stories… this is not the Asha Dutt that I know. Are you sure you're not in love yourself?" she teases, trying to lighten the mood.
"You never stop joking do you?" Asha asks, shaking her head with a smile on her face. "That really was a beautiful story Hussein, one of the most beautiful love stories I've ever heard."
Hussein smiles, trying to hide the sadness that he really feels. Because she has no idea that the most beautiful and tragic love story he's ever heard is actually hers, and there's no way that he can tell her.
It is then that the world stops turning for a second time in one day, because in that moment Rajveer Singh Shekawat walks into the canteen.
Except he's not Rajveer Singh Shekawat anymore, and Hussein needs to remember that if he's going to keep this secret.
The look on Asha's face when she sees him… lets Hussein finally understand why his mother cries as much for the loss of their love as she does for their lives.
Dhiraj makes his way towards them along with another officer that Hussein hasn't met yet, and he watches as Dhiraj looks up, his gaze searching for Asha, resting upon her and then moving away again.
As they're about to pass by, Asha, surprising even herself, speaks up. "Why don't you come and join us, Sirs?" she asks them both, "There are a couple of spare seats here."
Dhiraj, as surprised by this offer as Asha herself is that she made it, for a moment forgets himself and continues to just gaze at her, his eyes upon her face, the tray he's holding forgotten in his hand.
It is Samir who speaks, rescuing the situation. "Thank you very much, Lieutenant Dutt." He tells her, "Of course we'll join you." He nudges Dhiraj slightly as he walks past him, breaking his friend's daze, and as Samir takes a seat on one side of Hussein, Dhiraj takes the other, sitting opposite Asha.
"I don't believe we've met," Samir tells Hussein after he's sat down, "Captain Samir Hassan."
"Lieutenant Hussein Baig." Hussein introduces himself, leaving out his middle name on purpose, not sure how Dhiraj might react to it, "I only transferred in today."
"Welcome to Tawang," Dhiraj tells him, "I'm Captain Dhiraj Kapoor."
"It's a pleasure to meet you both." Hussein tells them, knowing that Dhiraj could never guess exactly how much it means to Hussein to be sitting here with him.
As they eat their dinner, making conversation about the current military situation, Hussein notices that Dhiraj glances at Asha so often that it would be hard for anybody not to notice it, although two of the other people sitting at the table certainly seem to be doing their best to pretend they haven't.
"So is your sister in the army too?" Amiya finally asks him when there's a break in the conversation, "Since it's such a family tradition."
"No, she's taken after Ammi though, she's a brilliant hockey player, plays for the Uttar Pradesh state team… I wouldn't be surprised if she's selected for the national team next year." Hussein tells them proudly.
"So your Ammi played hockey too?" Dhiraj asks him, "I quite like hockey… would I recognise her name?"
"No… Ammi joined the army, otherwise she probably would've become a famous player." Hussein tells them, "My mother is Major Pooja Baig."
And a look crosses Dhiraj's face for a moment, a spark of recognition, of almost… happiness.
"Have you heard of her?" Samir asks him.
"I don't know…" Dhiraj replies, frowning now and thinking about it. "The name seems familiar."
But Hussein won't tell him where he knows the name from, not now anyway. Not until it's the right time.
Observing the two of them while he eats his food, his resolve strengthens even more.
He will do everything he can to fulfill his parents unfulfilled wishes.
Whatever happens, he will try to ensure that the two of them stay alive… and that they find happiness.
Maybe in this way he will be able to finally stop his mother's tears, his father's quiet sorrow.
He will prove that he is worthy of his name.