***********************************************************************
* Please read this important mail. It is a compilation of many mails. *
* Please do not disregard this as a mail you received earlier. *
* *
***********************************************************************
Hi friends,
As you all know a war has broken out along the Line of Control in
Kashmir. Thousands of our soldiers are deployed in one of the
coldest
and the highest places on earth. There they have to fight two
enemies, the Pakistanis and the cold. At such high altitudes the
air
is so thin that they cannot even light a match for a smoke, as the
amount of oxygen there is much less than what is required for
ignition.
The lungs scream for oxygen. The blood vessels cry for oxygen.
At 15000-ft, you are not normal. You cannot be. The human body is
attuned to a certain altitude. And that's where our soldiers are.
Fighting the enemy. Facing the bullets. Dying alone in the snow.
Falling to death from the high ridges. No one hears their screams.
It's such a lonely death. A tiny piece of metal is all what it
takes
to die. It is not easy to imagine a soldier, an infantryman's life
up
there in Batalik, where the wind can sear your windpipe, chill
your
brains, make your eyes weep with pain and lungs cry out in sheer
exhaustion.
They are our infantrymen. The finest in the world. No other
soldier
has ever fought at these heights. At 15000ft, they can't move with
ease. In Batalik, there are no tracks. Climb, Clamber, Crawl. A
soldier carries a week's ration, ammunition, a 5.56mm assault
rifle
or a mortar or a rocket launcher. He carries over 20 kgs on his
back
sleep. He doesn't have time to eat. He doesn't have time to
urinate.
Life is not what it is. Life is a shell. It is the terror of
death.
It is the courage of facing it. It is fear, raw, unalloyed,
unrelenting... the enemy is up there, somewhere hidden. It can see
you, can track you down like a rat, can pick you out so
effortlessly...and yet these men move, slowly but with
determination
to fight for the nation. To die for the nation.
Every day the death toll is rising. The Pakistanis have killed
pilots
in cold-blooded murder. Soldiers are fighting and giving the
ultimate
sacrifice, so that you, your family and your friends can live in
peace. But India as a nation is the most ungrateful one. Here we
sit
in our cushy homes watching cricket matches, while for the soldier
it
difficult to take the next step.
These soldiers are paid much less than the average clerk in the
civil
life. But they did not join up for the money. When they die, they
are
declared as heroes and shown the lime light for sometime and
forgotten.
You know how it feels to be up there in the cold, cold mountains,
carrying a heavy backpack with a gnawing fear that you will never
see
your eight-year-old daughter. That sweet little thing with a
ponytail
and a smile that lights up your world. You may not hear her
giggles,
see her climb your shoulder, run around, throw her dolls in anger,
paint the walls in doodles... You will not be there for her.
When Sergeant Sahu, the sole earner of a family died, the parents
and
wife were proud that he gave his life for the country. What else
can
they say, when TV cameras are focussed and journalists surround
them
at such times? But after some time, they will begin to feel his
absence. Fl.Lt. Ahuja was killed in cold-blooded murder, when he
bailed out of his plane due to a technical trouble. He was hardly
your age. Imagine the state of his wife and family.
The families of these soldiers don't require sympathy. What they
require is support. When a soldier dies everyone sympathizes with
the
bereaved family members. But hardly anyone supports them. Whenever
you find a friend or a family member in distress, you will
definitely
help them. Then why does no one care for these soldiers? Is it
because you don't know them or can't see them? Still they die for
you.
You know what fear is. Fear is not being there. Death is not what
matters. What matters is that you will not matter anymore. And yet
the soldiers go up the hills, like the charge of the light
brigade,
never asking questions, never expecting an answer. They know they
have a duty, they have a pledge, and they have a promise to keep.
Their tryst with destiny. Brave. That is what these soldiers are.
Brave in the face of death. Brave in the face of fear. Facing
bullets. Forty-six of them are dead. Many more will die. Let not
their
death go waste, unacknowledged.
Not everyone can go and fight for the country. But the least we
can
do is to support the soldiers and their family. Don't just
sympathize
and talk proudly about these soldiers, do something for them. Then
you ask me "What can I do? How can I help?"
You can help these soldiers and their families by contributing a
part
of your income to :
Army Central Welfare Fund
Deputy Director (CW-8)
Adjutant General's Branch
Army Headquarters
West Block-III
R.K.Puram
New Delhi 110 066
India
This fund has been started by the army to look after the families
of
soldiers who die in the line of duty. It's the least you can do.
You
can send a DD/Cheque/Money order/Postal Order.
Adding your names at the bottom of some email and expressing your
solidarity with soldiers, will do nothing but increase the network
traffic. If at all you are an Indian then act immediately. This is
not a donation, but your duty. If you are not interested to
contribute, then just delete this mail and go on with your plush
job
in A/C rooms and posh houses.
If you really care about your nation, then send this mail to every
person who claims to be an Indian. Lets bow down to those unsung
wariors of the nation
===================================================================