सुखदुःखे समे कृत्वा लाभालाभौ जयाजयौ।

ततो युद्धाय युज्यस्व नैवं पापमवाप्स्यसि॥

"Fight for the sake of duty, treating alike happiness and distress, loss and gain, victory and defeat. Fulfilling your responsibility in this way, you will never incur sin".

-Chapter 2, Verse 38 [Bhagwat Gita]

*****

Shriya smiled as she watched her daughter's carefree face after days of restlessness. Aarshi chuckled softly as Isha whispered something to her. It was as though they were discussing a secret which was only meant for the group of girls sitting in the middle of the hall.

"Haan toh mere college mein ek ladka tha maine use dhar liya bahut tevar dikha raha tha." Aarshi narrated the whole incident. Her eyes glimmered with the kind of excitement that only comes after an adventurous tragedy.

"Mai hoti toh wahi deewar mein sar lada deti." Shivani added as if she was discussing the weather. But everything blurred for Isha as her gaze shifted to Shriya.

She adjusted her specs ready to walk away from the chaos. But as she was about to get up Shivani tucked her hand.

"Kya hua doctor, apne fauji ke bina chain nahi pad raha kya?"

Isha shook her head. Her grip tightened around the hem of her shirt until her hands grew clammy. But before she could ponder further Shriya's voice came from the kitchen.

"Nashta karlo pehle aake sab log." She walked into the hall as she wiped her hands with the edge of her pallu.

"Baatein toh kabhi nahi khatam hongi."

Her face was etched with dark circles, a silent reminder of sleepless nights she spent worrying about her son. But still she carried herself with grace.

Just as she was about to serve breakfast the doorbell rang. The serving spoon froze mid- air hovering above the plate. But before she could walk the doorbell grew loud almost in urgency.

Before she could move. Shivani stood up each footstep resonating with the kind of irritation which only comes after a happy Sunday is spoiled.

Shriya continued to serve the partha. The comforting smell of aloo mingled with the clink of cutlery that created a warm embrace, that felt unusual for Isha.

Her feet continuously danced beneath the table in a restless rhythm. The continuous thud of the foot felt loud against the clink of the cutlery. Shriya looked at her with a knowing look and just as she was about to nudge the plate towards her.

Shivani's voice came low. As she shifted from the entrance-allowing the officers to enter inside.

Two officers walked in. Their uniforms crisp under the faint sunlight filtering through the window. Shriya's eyes snapped up as she sensed the authority in the air. Shivani walked back to the table. Her eyes flicked to Isha and Aarshi but she looked away, as though afraid to face the truth.

Shriya walked towards the officers. The serving spoon now untouched sat there in the bowl-the plates felt like a formality. The air was so thick with the warmth of the ginger and tea that it was almost impossible to breathe.

"Ji?"

She asked hesitantly, almost dreading the thing-suddenly a blurred memory flashed in front of her eyes. She recognized the same look in the officer's eyes that she had felt years ago when she accepted the uniform of her husband, Major Anish Singh.

The officers removed their caps respectfully. Their eyes were fixed on the table which was humming with laughter and gossip a moment ago. Isha stood up as she sensed something wrong in their posture.

Shriya shook her head. Her bangles clinked as the same visuals flashed in front of her eyes from years ago. Her lips parted to say something but no words came out. Instead she stood there still like a proud mother and wife.

The senior officer scanned the white walls that now felt empty. He looked away.

He swallowed. Her face was pale-devoid of any vermillion. He inhaled a sharp breath. Every word was professional, official, devoid of any warmth though his voice quivered with the edge of guilt.

"I am Major R. Sinha, from the Army headquarters. We are here on the behalf of the Indian Army and the Ministry of Defence."

He paused. His eyes flicked to Isha whose legs were trembling with the effort to stand still. But still she stood barely gripping the table.

"We regret to inform you-that Captain Ritvik Singh." His lips parted to speak further but his tone quivered for a second as he watched Shivani gripping the arm of Aarshi. He masked the emotions beneath the calm practiced during years of training.

"Laid his life for the nation, while leading a surgical strike mission across the border."

Shriya gulped. She opened her mouth, then closed it but no words came out. The walls grew cold-the hum of the ceiling fan felt disturbing in the heavy silence.

Suddenly Aarshi's voice cut through the void, low as though all the laughter was enclosed in the velvet box that was now in the hands of the junior officer.

"Bhaiya...ne toh bola tha wo ghumaane le jaayega, ye-"

Shivani tightened her grip around Aarshi's hand. Aarshi tried to speak but no words came out instead a tear rolled down her cheek.

Isha sat there with the thud; all the memories flashed in front of her eyes. Her eyes lingered on the half burned name plate and maroon beret. The box didn't carry his lame jokes but it carried the responsibility of the officer that was served right.

"Aree tu toh meri behen hai."

All of a sudden she got up and moved towards the officers. Her voice trembled.

"Where is... she swallowed the words as though the rank itself carried a heavy weight.

"Captain Atri?," Her fingers tightened in a fist almost trembling, eyes red with grief and something else but her voice carried the grace of someone who knew the weight of the service.

But before she could ask further. Shivani walked to her, and tucked her hand. Shriya watched the interaction still standing there-frozen in place. The guilt clawed deeper with each passing second.

The officer's voice reached again.

"I am sorry, we are not allowed to disclose

any information as of now-but he is safe and performing his duties."

******