Thursday, 18 August 2011

                    81



The year was 1971. Throughout the country, everybody was filled with the national sentiments. Young Kamal, like other children of his age, was too eager to become a soldier. He wanted to grow up as early as possible, to become a pilot. He wanted to fly high, and to work wonders as a pilot. His father used to laugh, whenever he asked him about the procedure to become the GD Pilot, in the air force. “You are too young to be a pilot. Let the time come, his father usually consoled him by such replies. But he always dreamed of being a pilot. 

“Kamal, come here,” his father was calling him. His father had just returned from work. Kamal was expecting this call from him. He wanted to run away since he had seen his mother talking to his father, a little earlier. “She must have complained,” he was worried. His father was not a very strict person. He did not remember any incident, when he ever beat him. He was always polite, funny and cooperating. But he always believed in raising his children with discipline. His children were supposed to have a disciplined life.

Kamal, was left with no other choice but to start walking towards the room, where his father was standing, with his mother on his side. Kamal, had sensed that this time his father would not be so polite and funny that he had been before. He had sensed the danger looming right over his head. His small heart had started beating. His legs were trembling, and eyes already full of tears, ready to drip off anytime.

Kamal, did know what was going to happen. His father took his hand in his hand, and looked deeply on his hand. Kamal could not understand anything at all. Right in front of him was the wall, where he had made a large painting. The white wall was exhibiting a dogfight in the

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