AFOVA New Letter 2 of Year 2021

Section 7 – Panorama CV 2 No. 02 / 2021 Page 285 of 332 sexually violated several times. She was also three months pregnant. She remembered the Army atmosphere and the surrounding of where she was during the past few months. She was cared for, in the missionary and picked up her health. I too was among the members of the people inside the building who watched her grow and transform from the discarded one into a pretty woman At times I thought that I could be falling in love with her but very soon we had to shift her out of the country. She was kept as a concubine of the local Army Commander in the Garrison. When he was to shift to another place, he wanted to take her along but the next one after him did not permit. He was forced to leave her behind but when the 'replacement' found her with a child in the womb, chose to mistreat her and violate her. How she landed up as a garbage, she did not remember but in small little dialogues, she had told us the above. A few days' later, I had to go personally and attend to a task in Dacca and so, I had travelled with the diocese party that had come from the Capital city. The distance wasn't much between Dacca and Mymensingh but the rains made the travel so difficult that I reached Mymensingh back two days later than the planned one. There was a flurry of activity when I reached back. The pastor was briefing a fisherman couple to smuggle her across to a village near Haldibari from where I was brought in. The river was in spate and the boating was difficult but Chaitali, yes, that was her name as per her, was taken across the river to the east bank and was smuggled into Dhupguri and then on to Meghalaya. The local Garrison Commander was looking for her, it seemed. Things were heating up between the two neighbours and I had very important missions to carry out, in which, my pre-induction training was put to use. The war finally broke out and when my counter parts were in proper 'pittu', I had to go through' the situation in the same dress. Added concessions were a pair of canvas without socks and a tattered sleeveless sweater. On the fourth of December, I was getting ready to latch on with a marriage party to Sylhet sector that when Naren came and handed over a plastic envelope. I quickly shoved it inside my vest and left Mymensingh. That was the last I saw that place. One of the best things that occurred in the next couple of days was that I made rendezvous with my 'paltan' and I wore a proper pair of jungle boots after a gap of several months. Yet that pair of boots did not prevent me from getting shot in the ankle