It had been ten days since I returned to my posting after the bittersweet farewell with Reya and family.
Each day felt heavier than the last, a constant reminder of the uncertain path that lay ahead.
The atmosphere around the base was charged with tension; whispers of conflict filled the air.
I knew I would be called for war at any moment now. The situation here was critical, and I felt the weight of responsibility pressing down on me.
My mind often drifted to thoughts of her, my Sunflower, her laughter, her warmth—and it fueled my determination to give my best.
I was ready to confront whatever lay ahead, not just for myself but for her, for us.
Pulling my wallet out of the pocket of my pants, I opened it to reveal her picture—her radiant smile frozen in time, capturing a moment of pure joy.
The sight of her giggling, with that spark in her eyes, made my heart ache with longing.
It was a small piece of home I carried with me, a reminder of everything I was fighting for.
In that instant, the tension of my surroundings faded, replaced by the warmth of our memories.
I could almost hear her laughter echoing in my mind, and it strengthened my resolve. No matter what challenges lay ahead, I knew I had to return to her.
She was my light, my motivation, and the reason I would face any battle that came my way.
Suddenly, a loud crackle over the radio jolted me back to reality. The commanding officer was calling for a briefing.
I quickly tucked the picture back into my wallet and stood up, steeling myself for what was to come.
The tension in the air was palpable, and I could see it in the faces of my fellow soldiers. We all knew that the call to action could come at any moment.
As I made my way to the briefing room, I got to know that the situation at the border had escalated rapidly over the past few days.
Intelligence reports suggested a large enemy force was mobilising, and we were the frontline defence.
Once in the briefing room, the commander laid out the plan. “We’re deploying to secure the eastern ridge. It’s a strategic point, and if we lose it, we risk giving the enemy a significant advantage.”
He paused, looking each of us in the eyes. “I know you’re all ready to fight for your country, but remember what you’re fighting for. Stay sharp, and look out for each other.”
His words resonated deeply within me. I wasn’t just fighting for my country; I was fighting for my Sunflower, for the life we dreamed of building together.
I could almost hear her voice in my head, reminding me to stay strong and focused.
As we prepared for deployment, I took a moment to step away from the group. Before going out to join the squad, I took a deep breath and dialled her number, my heart racing with hope.
To my relief, she picked up on the first ring.
“Vayuuu!” her voice sparkled through the phone, wrapping around me like a warm embrace.
“Sunflower!” I replied, trying to keep my tone steady despite the tension in the air.
“I just wanted to hear your voice before things get... hectic here.” I whispered, looking out of the window.
“I miss you,” she said, and I could hear the sincerity in her voice, making my chest tighten.
“I miss you too. More than you know,” I confessed, the weight of my emotions threatening to spill over.
“I just want you to know that I’m going to do everything I can to come back to you.”
“Promise me you’ll be careful,” she urged, her voice laced with concern. “I can’t bear the thought of losing you.”
“I promise,” I said firmly, wishing I could reach through the phone and hold her close.
“Just keep that smile on your face and wait for me, okay?”
“Always,” she replied, her voice softening. “And I’ll be here, cheering for you.”
I smiled, feeling a sense of calm wash over me. “I love you, Reya!” I said, my heart full of determination.
“I love you too, Vayu!” she replied, her words wrapping around me like a protective shield.
“Now go out there and show them what you’re made of. I’ll be waiting for your call.” she said, fueling me with determination.
“I’ll make you proud,” I promised. As I hung up, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. With her voice echoing in my mind, I stepped out ready to fight.
When he called to tell me he was going to war, my heart sank deeper, each beat echoing the weight of his words. I tried to keep my voice steady, but inside, I felt a storm brewing.
And when the call ended, I felt a mix of pride and dread wash over me.
He was off to face his battles, while I was left to battle my own fears, the silent tears falling as I tried to keep my spirits high for him.
I couldn’t let him know how scared I truly was; he needed to focus on the fight ahead.
I looked down at the birth control pills in my hand, their small, innocuous packaging feeling heavier than it should.
I hadn’t taken one yet, and a part of me felt a strange resistance.
The logical side of my brain argued with me, reminding me of the plans we’d discussed and the reasons I needed to take them.
I couldn’t shake the thought of our night together, the way he held me, the promises whispered between soft kisses.
A part of me wanted to cling to that intimacy, to the possibility of something more than just a fleeting moment of passion.
There were high chances of me getting pregnant if I didn't take the pills.
The timing felt almost ironic; my ovulation had coincided perfectly with the night we shared. The thought sent a rush of emotions through me—fear, excitement, uncertainty.
What would that mean for us? What if this was our only chance? What if I wanted to feel him inside me again, to hold onto a piece of him while he was away?
I couldn't help but think of the bond we had forged during our time together, a connection that felt deeper than just physical intimacy.
The idea of carrying a piece of him inside me was both exhilarating and terrifying.
I glanced at the pills again, contemplating the weight of the decision before me. I took a deep breath, my resolve hardening as I considered my options. Whatever I decided, I knew I had to be true to myself and to him.
The thought of losing him surged through me like a tidal wave, overwhelming and powerful.
In that moment of clarity, I made my decision: I wouldn’t take the pills.
I knew the risks, but the thought of bringing life into this world, of creating a future that could keep a part of him alive in my heart, was too compelling to resist.
I envisioned our dreams—a family, laughter, love—woven together through the threads of our shared experiences.
I wanted to embrace the unknown, to hold on to every precious moment we had shared. I wanted to feel connected to him, even when we were worlds apart.
With a steadying breath, I set the pills down on the counter, choosing instead to believe in the strength of our bond and the love that had brought us to this point.
Whatever challenges lay ahead, I would face them, fueled by the hope of our future together.
My heart raced with the thought that, no matter the outcome, I was ready to embrace this journey—our journey—together.
One month later
It has been almost a month since he last called me before going to war.
Each day felt like a year, my heart aching with the fear of losing him. The silence was deafening, a constant reminder of the uncertainty that loomed over us.
Every moment stretched painfully, and I found myself replaying our last conversation over and over in my mind, searching for hidden messages in his words that would reassure me of his safety.
Maa called me one afternoon, her voice filled with concern. She asked if Vayu had reached out to me, and I felt a knot form in my stomach.
We had agreed that I would keep things light for our families, that I would shield them from the weight of our reality.
So, I told her that Vayu had gotten busy with training and hadn’t had the chance to call.
But the reality was different. I was drowning in a sea of worry, each unanswered call adding to the swell of anxiety.
I could feel my pulse quickening as I thought about him—was my Vayu safe? Was he thinking of me? The weight of my secret was heavy, and I felt like I was carrying the world on my shoulders.
Until one fine evening, my phone rang, and my heart raced when I saw it was his father calling. I hesitated for a moment before answering, a knot tightening in my stomach.
“Hello?” I managed to say, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Reya?” he asked, his tone serious.
“Namaste Papa! Kese hai aap? Maa kese hai?” I asked nonchalantly.
“Reya tell me the truth. Vasu training pe nahi war par gaya hai na?” The words hit me like a freight train, and I felt my breath hitch in my throat.
“Papa..nah-nahi!” I stammered, trying to process the shock.
He continued, “Sach batao beta!”
I could feel my heart sinking deeper into despair. I hadn’t heard from him in weeks, and the reality of his situation was more terrifying than I could have imagined.
“Ha-haan!” I whispered, tears pooling in my eyes. “He's deployed at the war!”
His father sighed heavily, “Mujhe laga hi!”
The floodgates opened then. I poured out everything—the worry, the sleepless nights, the lies I told to Maa.
“Please don’t tell her the truth, Papa!” I pleaded, my voice breaking. “She doesn’t need to worry. We wanted to protect our families from this.”
“Of course,” he assured me gently. “We’ll handle it together. Tum bhi apna dhyaan rakho!”
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me.
The weight of my fears was still heavy, but knowing that Papa understood and supported me gave me a glimmer of hope.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice trembling. “I just want him to be safe. I can’t bear the thought of losing him.”
“He has to come back for us!” I said looking down at my belly.
“We all will pray for him,” his father replied softly.
As the call ended, I sank into the nearest chair, tears streaming down my face. The truth was out, and the reality of our situation felt more tangible than ever.
I grabbed his picture from the table, holding it close to my heart as I whispered, “Please come back to me, Vayu!”
In those moments of solitude, I closed my eyes and pictured his smile, the way his laughter echoed in my ears, and how his eyes lit up when he talked about our future.
I longed for those moments, for the simplicity of just being together, and it felt cruel to have that taken away.
Days turned into weeks, I found solace in keeping his picture close, tracing my fingers over the outline of his face.
With each passing day, the fear of losing him gnawed at my insides, threatening to consume me. I prayed for his safety, clinging to hope, even as doubt whispered cruelly in my ear.
Few days later
I was about to slip into a deep slumber after a long, exhausting day at the hospital when my phone buzzed on the nightstand.
My heart raced at the sight of an unknown caller ID. A wave of anxiety washed over me, and I couldn't shake the feeling that it might be bad news.
Praying for his safety, I took a deep breath, steadied my trembling hands, and accepted the call.
“Hello?” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, bracing myself for whatever news awaited me.
There was no response from the other end for a minute until a voice called out, saying, "Dr. Sharma, Captain Kashyap se shaadi karegi?"
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