Yes, the thoughts started to roam his mind like a cyclone.
Uprooting, destroying and rampaging all the memories of his life that he once
shared with anyone.
the bullet just passed through his right lung missing the heart by inches but he knew instantly that he is not going to make it as being the man in charge here he knew about the medical facilities here and the nearest hospital being 200 miles back.
His mind was way off the battle field though, the only thing he managed to
remember was that the fellow in his right got hit and in that moment he protruded his head out of the cover and started firing when a couple of bullets just got injected into him.
Flashes of memories start coming and going from his mind like a movie being fast forwarded. He remembered his early days, his childhood and how he used to play with his father. He remembered his teenage when he and his friends would have the time of his life doing all the fun in the world. Faces… faces start coming and going infront of his eyes of all his mates and there appeared a smile on his face imagining them in their homes unknown of the fact that their friend is about take his last breath.
he remembered the look on his parents when he joined army and took the oath to protect the motherland irrespective of the circumstances. He still remembered the tears of joy that trickled down on the cheek of his mother when he came home the first time after completing training. His father looking towards him proudly with his head held high.
Suddenly the pain in his chest brought him back to reality and he covered his wound with his hand. Blood was gushing out too fast for him to stop.
The face of his one year daughter came in his mind who was born just the previous year, the queen of her eyes and his wife, a lovely sweet wife who he loved dearly and always counted on her on moments of crisis. A loyal woman just in her early twenties will be left widowed because his husband was a fighting a battle that the nation doesn’t considers its own.
severe pain and light headedness followed and he knew that any second now he’ll be taking his last breath.
And he thought about his family wife and kids and then he thought of other people, the common people the simple folks who believe what they are told
“No, I guess not. To them I’m just another guy being paid to do what I do best.
I can’t be classified as somebody special just because I was paid to do all
this. PAID PAID PAID….”
but not him because he is a soldier and that’s what soldiers do
THEY FIGHT, THEY DIE AND IN THEY GET THE BLAME OF BEING PAID.
he coughed a mouthful of blood, spitted it out and lied down flat on the ground
in his last moments these words of Centurion Quintas Dais were ringing in his mind
darkness… pitch black darkness just engulfed him and he felt his whole body
trembling and then suddenly he took a last breath full of blood and rolled over
to one side
and then…
then nothingness…
From the ink of a soldier...
the bullet just passed through his right lung missing the heart by inches but he knew instantly that he is not going to make it as being the man in charge here he knew about the medical facilities here and the nearest hospital being 200 miles back.
His mind was way off the battle field though, the only thing he managed to
remember was that the fellow in his right got hit and in that moment he protruded his head out of the cover and started firing when a couple of bullets just got injected into him.
Flashes of memories start coming and going from his mind like a movie being fast forwarded. He remembered his early days, his childhood and how he used to play with his father. He remembered his teenage when he and his friends would have the time of his life doing all the fun in the world. Faces… faces start coming and going infront of his eyes of all his mates and there appeared a smile on his face imagining them in their homes unknown of the fact that their friend is about take his last breath.
he remembered the look on his parents when he joined army and took the oath to protect the motherland irrespective of the circumstances. He still remembered the tears of joy that trickled down on the cheek of his mother when he came home the first time after completing training. His father looking towards him proudly with his head held high.
Suddenly the pain in his chest brought him back to reality and he covered his wound with his hand. Blood was gushing out too fast for him to stop.
The face of his one year daughter came in his mind who was born just the previous year, the queen of her eyes and his wife, a lovely sweet wife who he loved dearly and always counted on her on moments of crisis. A loyal woman just in her early twenties will be left widowed because his husband was a fighting a battle that the nation doesn’t considers its own.
severe pain and light headedness followed and he knew that any second now he’ll be taking his last breath.
And he thought about his family wife and kids and then he thought of other people, the common people the simple folks who believe what they are told
will he be hailed as a hero…?
“No, I guess not. To them I’m just another guy being paid to do what I do best.
I can’t be classified as somebody special just because I was paid to do all
this. PAID PAID PAID….”
deep down he knew, he knew that if anyone in this whole wide world would be asked
to risk his life on the basis of just 30,40 thousand rupees no one, NO ONE will
do it
your life is not worth this much.
THEY FIGHT, THEY DIE AND IN THEY GET THE BLAME OF BEING PAID.
he coughed a mouthful of blood, spitted it out and lied down flat on the ground
in his last moments these words of Centurion Quintas Dais were ringing in his mind
“it is the soldiers who do the fighting and the soldiers who do the dying and
the Gods don’t even get their feet wet”
and then…
then nothingness…
From the ink of a soldier...
