by Candy Laine
o0o
Contents
o0o
Copyright
Acknowledgements
1 High in the Himalayas
2 Unexpected Visitor
3 Drop Dead Handsome
4 Reconciling the Past
5 Of Best Friends and Weddings
6 When two worlds collide
7 Bolt from the Blue
8 Friendly Reunion
9 Engaging Times
10 Vows and Promises
11The Conspiracy
12 Country Before Self
13 Life is No Picnic
14 Survival of the Fittest
15 The Long Haul
16 New Beginnings
17 The Road Trip
18 Sweet Nothings
19 Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
20 The Hit
21 In Love and War
22 The Switch
23 New Beginnings
24 Forever Together
A Note From The Author
About the Author
Keep in Touch
Bonus Short Story
o0o
Copyright
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted, or stored in database or retrieval system, using any means or method now known or hereafter devised, without the prior written permission of the copyright holder. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the author’s hard work. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
o0o
Acknowledgements
It’s always a pleasure to thank everyone who has been a part of the journey of bringing out a new book. In this case there have been so many people who encouraged me and helped along the way.
I’d like to start by thanking Anna, who introduced me to NaNoWriMo and encouraged me to get started on a full length novel rather than merely short stories. The writing sprints at WriMo India really helped move the word count. Then of course the whole gang at Kick My A$$ and Help Me Create. They are a very motivating bunch, especially Aarti and Kannu.
My editor Vaijayanthi, who caught errors in language, spelling mistakes and plot inconsistencies to help me improve the quality of the writing and the story. Thank you so much for all the effort and constructive criticism. I really appreciate it.
Manoj, thank you for the quick and clean cover for this book. Bandita, Vidula and Deepika for all your inputs on the design, as well as the constant encouragement to create something new, thank you. Ladies Who Lunch manage to stay creative despite all odds!
A quick nod to a couple of old friends. Shweta, I finally wrote that book we planned to write in college. Since we couldn’t collaborate I gave my protagonist your name. Manasa, thank you so much for the reviews you are so quick to post! You totally rock.
No way to end this without thanking my family. Thank you Papa for the inputs on how the Army operates in the Valley. I think it made sections of the book more believable. Thank you Mama for the encouragement and the quick reading of the first draft.
And finally for my son, Rehaan...thank you for understanding that sometimes your mother just drifts away into a different world and needs to write it down immediately. You really are the best baby in the world. Yes, I know you’re taller than me now, but you will always be my baby!
o0o
1
High in the Himalayas
o0o
Home they brought her warrior dead
She nor swooned, nor uttered cry:
All her maidens, watching, said,
‘She must weep or she will die.’
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
As she read the opening lines of Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s epic poem, Shweta Karkare’s eyes filled with unshed tears. This was not just a beautiful poem, it was her reality.
She could close her eyes and go right back to that day at the Pune airport. Her elder brother Sameer and mother Urmila, standing there with her, waiting. None of them could sit. They were all too unsettled as they waited for the disembarking passengers to leave. The small airport would soon be bereft of the bulk of people milling around them. It was then that the coffin would be brought out from the cargo hold of the plane.
She closed her eyes and let the unshed tears pass away. There was nothing she could do for that little girl in her memories now. It was all in the past. Her past was not welcome in her future. Unlike her mother who was stuck in the past, Shweta had moved on. So she told herself repeatedly.
Yes, she knew she was the daughter of a man, who many considered a hero. A man who had saved countless lives by directing his misbehaving fighter jet away from the crowded city and into the surrounding fields. He even attempted to save the aircraft by going in for a rough belly landing rather than a simple ejection.
It had been a routine air show, nothing her father had not done a hundred times before. Only this time there was a huge crowd in the audience. Her mother, brother and she had actually been taken to the ATC tower where they could hear him as he flew and communicated with the Air Traffic Controller.
Shweta was twelve years old. Her father’s princess. The pampered one. She remembered feeling the surge of pride when her father spoke crisp sentences as he manoeuvred the aircraft to the air show location.
Then came the thrilling low altitude fly past over the gathered crowd, which could be seen beautifully from their vantage point up in the tower. Then came the not so regular statement telling the ATC officer that the aircraft seemed not to be responding as it should. The technical terms flew over her head and a sudden chill gripped her heart.
Even though his voice was cool and calm, she knew her father was in mortal danger flying a death machine as he spoke of moving the aircraft away from the city. Only his last two sentences betrayed the emotions that he felt in the final moments. “Tell my wife I love her. Tell my kids I am sorry I won’t be there.”
In the ATC there was a deadly silence. For half a minute no one spoke, unable to believe he had gone down. The shock wore off first for the Air Traffic Controller who immediately began sending the search and rescue helicopter to the last known coordinates of the aircraft. Shweta remembered hoping against hope that he had made it. The officers loaded her along with her mother and brother into a vehicle and took them home. A couple of ladies from the Squadron were already there with their husbands.
Her mother had gone into denial immediately afterwards. After it hit her she howled and cried for the better part of the day. Her father’s younger brother, Chirag was informed and would arrive the next day to escort them home. The unit had sent over people to help with the packing. Overnight the house was packed under the supervision of her mother’s best friend.
That night they had been shifted to a room in the Officer’s Mess. Both Shweta and Sameer had hugged each other while they cried and wiped each other’s tears alternatively. Their mother was sleeping under the influence of the sedatives that the doctor had given her.
Various officers and their wives had visited them, speaking to their uncle Chirag, as their mother slept off her prescription. Some would ask to speak with them, but mostly they were ignored by the adults. Chirag was in shock himself to be of much help to the two siblings.
The next morning a truck was waiting at their home to transfer their trunks to their home town, Pune. They were to fly back to Pune. Wing Commander Ravi Karkare had been interred in a coffin
and flew with the rest of the cargo below their feet in the aircraft. The wait for the coffin had seemed endless to Shweta, when they had finally landed at the airport.
The beep of her mobile brought Shweta back to the present. She shelved her memories, pushed away the book of poetry she was reading, sat up and stretched her hand out for her mobile. Having read enough research into mobile phones and radiation, she placed her mobile as far away from her head as possible, at the foot of her bed.
As she read the text message Shweta frowned. This meant she would have to get up early tomorrow. She had been counting on a late start considering that it was a national holiday. Oh, well, she was used to rather erratic work hours. She could read poetry late into the night another day. She tucked her quilt around her legs as she replaced her mobile phone at the foot of the bed. She switched off the bedside lamp and lay down to sleep.
In her dreams the past came back to haunt her. Memories of her father, sitting on his lap as he read her a book before bedtime. A picnic that their happy family took to a nearby lake before the crash. Finally the last few moments before the crash that changed everything. Shweta woke up with a start. She knew that reading the poem had triggered this nightmare episode. She wished she was home so that she could sneak into Sameer’s room.
Her elder brother had developed a protective streak a mile long after the crash. He always held her when she woke up from her nightmares and sought him out. It comforted her and gave her the strength she needed to go on. She wished he was with her then. She put on the bedside light and squinted her eyes as they got accustomed to the light. She stared at the wall clock and sighed.
There was no use trying to go back to sleep. She had to be at work in half an hour. She steeled herself and pulled off the warm quilt. Her slippers were ice cold as she slipped her feet into them. The room itself was spartan. Just her bed, a study desk with a chair and a cupboard. She got off the bed reluctantly and walked into the small attached bathroom that she shared with the person in the next room.
The nurse in the adjoining room was currently not in residence, so she had the bathroom to herself. She switched on the geyser and hoped that it would at least make the water warm enough to bathe. She returned to the bedroom and opened her cupboard. There wasn’t much of a choice in her limited closet and she quickly picked out the clothes that she would wear. It was a matter of layering up to keep the cold out rather than anything fashionable.
The mundane daily routine chores of brushing her teeth, bathing and getting ready, settled her mood. By the time she was ready to leave the room she was as steady as a rock. The hospital was not spread over a wide area and her quarters were located fairly close to her laboratory which was little more than one large room segregated into different work areas. The single storied building was barely any distance from the main hospital building in the front of the campus.
The general ward, where she was headed today instead of the laboratory, was a just a little distance further along in the main building. She was a pathologist currently conducting research on how altitude affected healing and infections for specific viruses. She had chosen to do her rural assignment in the high altitude regions of Sikkim. This particular hospital was a branch of a larger nationwide chain of hospitals which was headquartered in Pune.
The main branch of the Sikkim hospital was located in the state’s capital city, Gangtok. Shweta was currently situated in Chungthang, in the north district of Sikkim. At an elevation of 5870 feet above sea level it was a huge difference from the mere 1841 feet that Pune was at. Initially she was supposed to have been situated at Gangtok which was also 5200 feet above sea level, but there had been a dire need of doctors in the north district hospital. Since she had no family or commitments in Gangtok, she had been happy to volunteer her services in Chungthang.
They had enough laboratory equipment for her to work with. For the fairly large chunk of time she had between her experiments, she put to good use as a visiting physician at the hospital’s outpatient department. Plus she was ready to take on ward duties when the other doctors were unavailable. The three local doctors were happy with the extra pair of hands she provided and were glad she was open to take on the rotation duties when needed.
It still left her time to explore the town which was situated at the confluence of two rivers -Lachen and Lachung. They were both tributaries of the river Teesta which swung through all of Sikkim. The scenic beauty, she was often busy photographing on her treks, was truly breathtaking. She used to take off on treks close to the hospital on her own, before she discovered that several local children were more than happy to accompany her if she carried enough treats in her bag.
This morning as she saw her breath come out in willowy wisps of smoke as she walked to the main hospital building, she was not concerned much with the natural beauty of the place. She was just looking to head into the wooden building to get out of the chilly wind that was blowing in from the mountains and warm up a bit. She stamped her feet a bit harder as she walked up the road to the building and was grateful to finally enter the door. The black bag she usually carried was feeling heavier today.
This morning she was in charge of the patient ward, and would handle any stragglers who came into the outpatient department as well. She didn’t mind working on a holiday. The others had families to spend time with, and she was far away from hers at the moment. There was one more doctor on call today and the two of them would handle the show. Not that she was seriously expecting anyone to leave the warmth of their homes to come to the hospital in this weather, unless it really did require immediate medical attention.
It was going to be a relatively slow and uneventful day, she thought to herself. Little did she know what was coming her way. As she walked through the main reception area of the hospital she greeted the nurse there and continued down the corridor. Her thoughts were on the fact that she had not yet received her morning phone call from her mother. Then she reflected on the time and realized that her mother would still be in the prayer room.
Urmila Karkare barely ever slept peacefully at night. She would often bathe early in the morning and sit down in the prayer room. Once she finished her reading of holy scriptures for the day, she would place a phone call to her daughter to enquire about her well being. Then she would head over to the kitchen to instruct and supervise the cook making breakfast. Her brother, Sameer, would share breakfast with her in the dining room before he disappeared for the whole day returning home at night for dinner.
Shweta was comforted thinking about the daily routine her family shared. The black bag was deposited in the corner room meant for doctors and she went in search of the colleague she was replacing on duty. The doctor in charge and she made a quick round of the resident ward as he briefed her on the patients before making his escape after the night’s duty.
She chatted awhile with the night nurse who was on duty for another hour before her shift ended and the day nurse took over the ward. There were just two patients. One man suffering from “Pulmo”, as they called the affliction of water retention in the lungs locally. His wife was with him and took her role of caregiver very seriously. The other man was recovering from a surgery. A bullet wound apparently, which surprised Shweta since the area had hardly any crime of note.
The nurse explained that he was working with the army as a guide in the area when he was shot. The bullet was gift from the terrorists trying to infiltrate across the border. His vitals were normal and he was healing well as per the surgeon who had operated the previous day. His younger brother was with him as the caregiver.
Shweta introduced herself to both the caregivers and asked them to come find her if they needed anything. They both were probably stiff from sitting on the small wooden stools but smiled gratefully at her. Then she headed back to the corner office as the night nurse went back to her post.
o0o
2
Unexpected Visitor
o0o
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!
"Charge for the guns!" he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
He had driven a considerable distance to come and see the man. Under normal circumstances they would have already shifted him south to one of the larger hospitals, but he belonged to a small village nearby. His family was keeping vigil at his sickbed and the surgeon had been convinced to let him continue here under observation.
Captain Arun Rastogi winced a little as the military jeep went over perhaps the hundredth pothole that day. His shoulder was recovering from the bullet wound nicely, but all this jostling around was definitely taking its toll. Thankfully his driver was skilled on mountain roads and they had made good progress since they started from camp well before dawn. The last milestone pegged the village to be just ten kilometers away.
Arun shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable and failing miserably. The driver darted a quick look at Arun and grew worried looking at his pale face. His Sahab could be quite stubborn at times. He looked ready to pass out, but he was known in their unit for his spectacular will power. Look at how he had convinced the CO Sahab to let him visit that coolie who saved his life. Thankfully they were almost at their destination. He focused on the next bend in the road, taking it as gently as he could, concerned for his wounded passenger.
~~~
Shweta was working on her laptop. The research she was conducting was coming along nicely. The different strains of viruses did get affected by the altitude and temperature. It was interesting work, documenting the changes. Eventually her research would help pharmaceutical companies design and manufacture better medicines for high altitude regions. The thought that she could be helping thousands of people in the future gave her immense satisfaction.
Since there was no pressing task at hand Shweta decided to take a visit to her lab and then go to the cafeteria to grab a bite for breakfast. She may consider taking a little trek into the surroundings tomorrow. Especially if the wind chill factor was tolerable. The pristine beauty of her surroundings was one of the major pluses of this assignment.
