AFOVA New Letter 2 of Year 2021

Section 7 – Panorama CV 2 No. 02 / 2021 Page 286 of 332 area during the enemy battle encounter. Despite that, it was truly funny to be in a trouser when the 'lungi' had become my approved dress. Just a day before the surrender, an IAF helicopter evacuated me to a field hospital. The facilities in the field hospital were just about sufficient to survive but still it was a luxury to sleep on a clean bed sheet and sterile atmosphere. Did I spend an eon in the enemy territory or they were just a few months? I must have dozed off again when the doctor on the rounds came to check my progress. “Your ankle has three joints: the ankle joint proper, the subtalar joint, and the Inferior joint; you were shot just between the calf and the ankle joint and so, the damage has been minimum. I guarantee that you'd walk. Relax as much as possible and you'd recover rather quickly", Dr. Khanna kept up his 'morale booster' words and moved on to next bed, a Sikh helicopter pilot, who was shot through' his left thigh. He returned as fast as he went. "Here, this was found lying in your stretcher; probably a letter". He handed me over the small plastic envelope which Naren had handed over to me before I had left Mymensingh. Several years and three children later Chaitali and I remember that piece of paper that brought us together after the war. She had written a small note in Bengali to tell me that a male child was born and because of her age, the child was given away on adoption in Shillong itself. In a simple way to thank me she had named the child too as Satyajit. I had been given the identity as Nurul Hassan while I was in Mm and none, including the pastor, knew my name as Satyajit but Chaitali had guessed that I was actually from the ‘other side’ Army and not the garrison type. In a weaker moment, I might have revealed my real name to her; dangerous thing to happen in situations like that. No sooner I had recovered, I went to Shillong and met up with her. During those few weeks she was away in Shillong and post-delivery, she had grown not only in the physical sense but also mentally. With the child taken away from her, her health had picked up. The Mother Superior had started coaching her in both English and French. She was no more a gunny sack girl. We were married in the Hindu tradition but in a Church in the town of Silchar in 1975. My mother passed away soon after that. After spending twenty five years in the uniform including seven months in lungi, I chose to retire voluntarily and settle in Kolkata. Somewhere in the late eighties, Chaitali and I went to bring Satyajit Jr. to live with us. Strapping young fellow had finished his college. He had known that Col. and Mrs Nag were his guardian. We had discussed in detail whether to reveal his origin but decided against it.