AFOVA New Letter 2 of Year 2021

Section 7 – Panorama CV 2 No. 02 / 2021 Page 254 of 332 My breath came in a cold vapour; my cheeks tingled. It’s funny, we only think of the tips of our nose and fingers when it’s cold, but that night I felt the bite in the tips of my ears. I hoped the 45 minutes would be over soon. It was as well I didn’t know that I was in for a long night – a long vigil fraught with concern, anxiety and mounting fear. Ram Singh was back. By the look on his face, it was good news. “The route from Leh is open Saheb,” he said, rubbing his ungloved hands. “Buses have been coming in.” For the moment, my fears settled. Ram Singh walked to the One Ton and called out. “Sahebji aap gaadi mein baith jao.” He had the engine going to keep the vehicle warm and he wanted me comfortable inside. With Army vehicles, we didn’t have the luxury of heating. The only way to keep the inside warm was a running engine. Ram Singh’s concern for my comfort even as he stood vigil in the cold touched my heart. My mind wandered over the past, to that time in school when Ashwani on a late afternoon at sports had fallen and hurt his foot. Blood flowed out of the deep gash for what seemed like an interminably long time till bhabhi, as we called mother, bandaged it with a thick wad of cotton and boji’s (dad) handkerchief. My sister and I had been scared that day till boji told us that Ashwani was all right. My mind kept flitting from the past to the present. Ram Singh stood out in the cold night, he had refused to sit inside as was the custom, not taking his eyes off the entrance of the bus stand for a moment. It was as if he was there to welcome his own. The scheduled time came and went. We waited for two hours. And we waited some more. Now, each minute was longer than sixty seconds and time weighed heavily not just on my mind but on my heart too. Accidents happened with painful frequency on this treacherous route. Images of past accidents plastered on TV and in newspapers haunted me. Dreadful thoughts of mangled vehicle remains added to my anxiety. A soft knock on the door cut into my thoughts. I turned. It was Ram Singh with a steaming, hot cup of tea. It calmed my nerves. But Ram Singh didn’t have his tea since he was in the presence of his superior – that’s me. From time to time, he walked to the