Ten days I spent with them. The dreaded soldiers in the green. For the security forces, they are trained to kill. The merciless assassins, who stalk the jungles of Chhattisgarh. Their ideology, if you ask me, is somewhat warped. The call for annihilation of the "class enemies" has actually lost its meaning. Yet they carry the guns to bring about a revolution, which, even they know would remain a distant dream. While spending days and nights... I discovered the other side of these killing machines..They laugh, they want to live and they are often shy and of course they were the women, who carried our luggages, when we failed to carry them....and the jungle calls...which haunt us...even today
My Brother PINTU
"Mar shathe ghumai (I sleep with Ma)...." was Pintu's reply, when I asked, where do you sleep these days. At first I didn’t get it. I asked again : "No I mean, where do you sleep these days ?" "Mar shaathe (with Ma)," he replied again. "What do you mean-I asked Pintu, my younger brother. "Everynight, Ma comes and sleeps beside me. I can feel her presence. Morning I just open the window and she leaves. I am telling you the truth," he was trying to convince me. Our mother died on November 24, 2008. My brother is --"mentally retarded," so we say. Since childhood, his life had revolved around Ma. When he was a kid, I had named him--- Ma boleche (Ma said so). Whenever he wanted something, he would make Ma agree to his terms and then mount pressure on me and Baba. He would then say --- "Ma boleche." Ma died and life moved on. I moved on. Three days after Ma expired, I was back in Delhi following the Mumbai terror attack....
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http://www.outlookindia.com/article.aspx?264738-0
..... although i could be wrong