Operation Vijay
‘’Ding Dong’’ – The doorbell rang piercing the silence. Swati was stunned, she was in the kitchen, preparing Aryan’s favourite pineapple juice . Aryan, her 6 years old son, was playing in his room. Had this happened in Mumbai, she would have ran to the door, casually would have opened it, and yes, would have dealt with it further. But… this was not her lovely home in Mumbai. She was in Jubail, a Saudi Arabian Industrial city. Her husband, Pankaj , was working in Saudi Arabia for last 2 years. Swati and Aryan used to stay in Mumbai, while Swati was a teacher in one of the prominent Mumbai schools, Aryan had completed his Sr. KG. and was about to enter first grade once this vacation was over.
Swati was bored with monotony of life; since Pankaj was away. She used to stick to daily routine to not feel that boredom. Her day usually began with morning cuppa chai, and then it was spent in preparing tiffin for herself, and 3 to 4 mini tiffins for Aryan , dropping him to nursery, going to her school, then picking up Aryan while returning from school and then all household chores….She used to feel tired when the day ended. She did not even get 10 minutes of her own. She wanted some change.
Initially, when Pankaj left for Saudi Arabia for his company’s work, she felt lonely. Slowly she had adjusted to a new pace of life with more responsibilities. Once, she told Pankaj , “I accept you are there for work and it is giving us some more money, which will help shape our, mainly Aryan’s education and future , but I feel I am alone struggling with the odds and whenever I want you more, you are not with me. So, what’s the use of that more money? I want some break, I want all 3 of us together, if you can request your manager to bring us there; we will be at least able to spend Aryan’s vacation there and I will get the change for some time; please Pankaj, try to arrange for family visa. ” She didn’t have any hopes though.
It was the end of March. Swati was very busy with school examinations. During the lunch break, Pankaj gave her a sweet surprise. His family visa was approved and after completing some formalities, both of them could join Pankaj by end of May. Swati felt like she was on cloud nine. She immediately started preparing for their departure. It was her first international air travel, so she was equally excited too. Aryan was happy to join his papa after so long. Such a happy moment in life.
It was the start of May 1999 – Swati’s preparations were in full swing. Meanwhile, Swati watched the news – in Kargil district of Kashmir, Pakistani intrusion was reported by local shepherds and infiltrations were also noticed in Dras. She started following the news, what otherwise would have gone unnoticed, may be just heard , since Pankaj had sent her a ticket dated 26th May 1999. She got little worried, war clouds started gathering over Himalayan mountains. Some heavy shelling by Pakistani army was reported and IAF had also done air strikes in answer. She thought of Pankaj, who was working with employees of various nationalities, including Pakistani’s. What would be the situation there? Amidst the warlike state of affairs, she finally flew on 26th May.
Pankaj was set to pick them up at Dhahran Airport – it was actually Royal Saudi Air Force base, located in Eastern Province of Saudi Arabia. Initially built and operated by US, it had traditional Islamic architecture and other smaller buildings were in the shape of minarets. When both landed, Aryan was half-asleep. The airport was guarded by security personnel in every corner. These uniform-clad people were stern, indifferent and may be stone-hearted, she felt. Overall the atmosphere was mysterious and scary. It wasn’t what she has seen in movies. She just wanted to meet Pankaj soon. The formalities took more than an hour, every moment felt like an era.
And then, there she was, in a rented furnished apartment in Jubail. It was a 4-storey building, 2 apartments per floor. Women were not allowed to step out without their husbands or without male accompanying them. It was only a week, she landed in Jubail; she had gone only once with Pankaj to shop for some essentials and toys, mainly automobiles, for Aryan. There was a stark difference ; India was colourful, while here, only two colours were seen – black and white. All women wearing black abaya and men in mostly whites !
Back in India, armed conflict was building up across the Line of Control (LOC). Swati stopped the juicer, since the doorbell rang twice. She ignored it at first; but the bell kept on ringing. This was not Pankaj, for sure he used to always carry his set of keys. Should I open the door; should I not? Unlike her Mumbai home, this apartment neither had safety door nor a peep-hole. Who would be outside? What was her line of control? Was it the door? Her laxmanrekha ? What happened to Seeta in Ramayana, when she tried to cross laxmanrekha, she remembered and stopped for a while. The non-stop doorbell; oh God ! She made up her mind and opened the latch.
The lady outside, almost of the same age that Swati was, in black abaya , heavily pregnant , was in pain. Shocked, she took her in. She made her sit first. Swati did not know what to do now. She gave her a glass of water. The lady, holding Swati’s hand, relaxed a bit.
“I…am….Fatima… I stay there.” The lady said in her frail voice, pointing towards the apartment in the front.
Swati remembered when she used to face any problem in childhood, her grandmother always used to calm her down first and asked her to take a deep breath.
“Please Fatima Di, relax and take a deep breath.”
Fatima obeyed like a little girl. She felt better. But, then, there was a pain.
“I am in my seventh month and this pain….my husband has gone office….what will I do now? ” She started crying.
“Ok ok . Do you have his number?” – Swati.
“He has kept his card somewhere; but I can’t find it now… ammi ….it pains a lot.”
Swati kept thinking – should I help her? Is she trustworthy? What if she is acting and pretending? What can go wrong if I help her? And if at all I decide to help her, how can I help? Aryan came running from his room “Mumma mumma, my ambulance wheel broke; fix it no mumma!” Suddenly, he looked at Fatima, who was crying.
“mumma, why is this aunty crying , something broken of hers ? ”
“No, Aroo , she has other problem. Papa will fix wheel in the evening. Go and play with some other car.”
“Aunty aunty, my grandmother says, in problem, always chant – Om Namah Shivay. Chant na aunty, join your hands and chant.”
Swati did not react. For a moment, Fatima believed the little boy and joined hands. Aryan started chanting.
“Fatima Di, do you know which company, he works for?” asked Swati.
“Gulf Steel” said Fatima.
Chanting continued. Swati called her husband, told him everything, gave Fatima’s husband’s name and name of his company, told him to try contacting him and explain him the emergency. Swati, then turned to the kitchen, made lemon sherbet for Fatima. She came out to serve the drink to Fatima, Aryan and Fatima, were talking, like he mingled with Swati’s sister, his own aunt. Fatima felt little better after drinking sherbet.
Fatima sat now with a little ease. Aryan went inside the room saying –“Aunty, you know what my India uncle and India aunt, gifted me fleet of luxury toy cars, on my birthday. I have got some of them here. Aunty, I will go and bring them and show you. We will play then…… ” Back in India, he had lot of friends, relatives and grandparents to talk and play. He was missing all fun. Here, almost for a week, he was playing alone.
The pain was intermittent now. When it subsided, Fatima told that she was from Karachi. She was a print media professional and was working before getting married. Both the families were well educated and progressive. Her husband had plans of shifting to London, after his project in Saudi Arabia was over, since she is expecting now and due in around last week of July. He wants her to work and have her own career. Then, she asked about Swati and soon, they were talking like long-time friends.
Swati was tense initially since she thought that she is helping someone, who is from Pakistan. And there, Indian Air Force was flushing out irregular Pakistani troops from LOC. Her subconscious mind was content from within. She was confused now; she thought of discussing that with Pankaj – if she had taken any wrong step. The phone rang. It was Pankaj. He had found out and talked to Fatima’s husband, narrated entire incident and given phone no of their apartment. Swati was happy, Fatima smiled and bore the next wave of pain stoically.
The phone rang. It was Fatima’s husband. She sat on Sofa next to the phone and started talking softly. It was less Hindi, more Urdu, some Arabic, and some English. What Swati could gather from the conversation, was that, he was thankful and was starting from his office to come home and later take Fatima to the hospital.
The month of June just flew away. Swati had many outings with Pankaj, his friends and their families. There were lunches, dinners, get-togethers. She got a well-deserved break, Aryan enjoyed too. Fatima was alright after the hospital visit. Occasionally, she and Swati used to have lunch together, watch TV shows, some special recipes also had crossed the border, except uttering a word about a war in Kargil.
Come July first week, Swati and Aryan left for India. Here, Indian Army had recaptured Tiger Hill, after an 11 hour battle. Aryan had lots of vacation stories to tell. His school started and he went busy with his new books, new standard, and new friends. Swati also started with her daily routine. On 30th July, Swati just returned from her school, after picking up Aryan, phone rang. Pankaj told, “Swati, good news, Fatima delivered a cute baby girl on 26th July, when Indian Army completely evicted Pak troops. What a coincidence na? Her husband called me today, and thanked me multiple times”
Swati felt overjoyed. She knew, 26th July, in India, was declared ‘Kargil Vijay Divas’. She had mixed feelings. But, she knew exactly, that it was victory of compassion over dispute, victory beyond borders, a victory of relationships over religion!
( This story is based on true events )
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good one
Thank you