And while one son of the nation breathed again. It was time to say goodbye to the other.

••••••••
After how many funerals the whole procession seems habitual? After attending how many funerals tears stop gracing your eyes? After witnessing how many deaths you stop minding death? 

I don't know. I've witnessed deaths from childhood. Every few months a known or unknown soldier martyred for the nation leaving behind tears and gaping holes. And you never get used to that. You never get used to knowing that yesterday he was here, today he isn't here.

It never makes sense.

It never did.

Not when I was a six-year-old consoling Vihaan during his father's funeral. Everything had felt disconcerting back then. We didn't know why uncle was wrapped in our tri-colored flag? Why wouldn't he wake up? We didn't understand the notion that he was gone.

Not when we were huddled together in Karan's room. Consoling him when his uncle went missing. Every day we all looked hopeful that maybe he'll return today. Every day there was hope and every dusk was full of devastation.

It didn't make quite a sense to us.

Not when they all were huddled around me, consoling me when dad's car fell off the cliff. When everyone was searching. The three of them were huddled around me, consoling me, being my strength.

Every single known funeral we were together.

Vihaan's dad's.

Karan's Uncle's.

My Dad's.

Yet when it was time for the funeral of one of us. One or two of us were always missing. Anuj and I couldn't attend Karan's funeral due to our posting and now, it's Anuj's funeral and Karan is missing.

But maybe Karan is waiting for Anuj if there's any place beyond death. Maybe both of them will wait for Vihaan and me too. We have always done things together. So, maybe they will wait beyond the veil for us too.

Watching over us.

Like the stars in the sky.

Like the stars, our parents confided, each dear one gone becomes.

Back then, we thought maybe that's why there were so many stars in the sky. But now, even after knowing the truth and reality. I want to hold onto that silly notion. I want to hold onto the fact that we are still under the same sky's grace.

I'm breathing and he is twinkling.

Like that twinkling laugh of his.

But it isn't so, a part of me will always scream. It isn't so for his still body covered in flowers won't leave my mind. Anuj looked peaceful. Almost asleep with a swollen face and a black eye. And I could almost, almost make myself believe that he was just sleeping after a nasty mission. Resting for some time because he was too tired.

Tomorrow he'll wake again with a bright dazzling smile. Refreshed and full of uncontained energy, running around the house. Accompanying mum to temple or supermarket. Challenging Vihaan and entertaining Suhani with stories.

But it wasn't so.

It won't be.

Even when Anuj was dead tired. Even the slightest of noise was capable of breaking his slumber. He would wake up at the barest sounds. He always has been an extremely light sleeper and if wails, cries, and gunshots failed to wake him.

Nothing ever will.

The thought was life shatteringly heartbreaking. And no matter how many times I told myself, I won't cry. I won't cry. He won't like me crying. He won't want me crying. He'll like a happy goodbye. A goodbye remembering him at his happiest but I couldn't quite help my tears at that moment. I was never good at saying goodbyes and now, it was goodbye forever for us.

The flower garland in my hand was the heaviest thing in the entire world. Placing it on Anuj's still body the most tedious task of the entire world. I didn't want to cry yet the tears won't stay contained in my eyes.

I didn't want my voice to crack while talking in his presence one last time. Even if the presence was his mortal body and my, I love you just a whisper. My heart still expected him to reciprocate my feelings in words. It shouldn't have but it still did.

My heart shouldn't be hoping for him to yell triumphantly — Yes, finally. When I saluted him in the army style. He didn't. I never thought our airforce versus army salute banters will come to an end this way.

But they did.

And my last salute to my Major was in his style with his warcry. My eyes will always be towards the sky but today my dear, I'm embracing your tactics. I know, he knew and I know,  he didn't want me to break down.

But I still did.

I still did.

And now when everything is done. When his body has been burned and his ashes are here. A few feet away from me kept in the hall in front of his garland lad photo. A permanent reminder that he is gone forever.

I have captured myself in our room with our memories. Remembering him the way, he wanted to be remembered but still, it isn't helping with the pain in my heart. Both the happiest and not so happy memories are inflicting the same amount of pain on my soul now.

The memories of the past sprinkling like an unexpected drizzle over me. Even the inanimate object connected to him seemed as precious as a thousand diamonds to me.

And I've no idea what to do with them? I can't give his clothes away. I don't think I've it me and I still couldn't find the courage to open the box of his belongings the army send back.

Why did you choose the armed force life? A question again knocking in my mind. We had more than a thousand reasons not too. Vihaan's dad's martyrdom in Kargil should have discouraged us from choosing this life.

But it did the exact opposite with thousand reasons not too. We chose the one emotion called love.

We always did.

Even when we knew the dark side. Even when we remembered how for many days after Viaan's father's death we thought he'll return. We didn't understand death back then, we thought he was again in some God-forsaken place where the family wasn't allowed. But with each passing year and the white get up of Vihaan's mom. The truth couldn't be glaring more apparently to us.

We grew up hearing about the death of known people. Officers we knew as uncles. But it didn't scar us back then much. We were four innocent children with loving parents and uncles. Our dads were heroes and we wanted to be just like them.

We were free laughing, celebrating, learning, and getting into all sorts of troubles through with an equal amount of trepidation and worry constructing around their hearts at the slightest mention of unrest.

Is it dad? Uncle? Or anyone I know?

The thought never stopped plaguing us.

Not really.

And still, we chose the same fate for us.

And now, Anuj is gone. Karan is gone.

"Khushi!!"

"Yes, "

I answered trying to make my voice seem less broken than I'm actually feeling as I heard the concerned voice of Vihaan for me.

As soon as, I had answered Vihaan entered my room looking as bad as I was feeling.

"You okay, " he asked not meeting my gaze.

"Hmm, mum slept?" I asked

"Yeah, Vedant is with her, "

"Good," I said not meeting his gaze.

"Khushi, " Vihaan began

"Remember this, " I cut him off thrusting the photo album in his hand. It was a picture of the four of us. The four of us when we were no older than 4 or 5 years old dressed in Lord Krishna's get up.

"Yeah, you always played Krishna, " Vihaan commented nostalgically and I couldn't agree more.

I always player Krishna because they played Krishna. No matter, how many times mom tried to get me to dress up as Radha. I always stubbornly played Krishna because my besties played Krishna until my middle teenage days. Then I was Radha to three Krishna's.

Everyone knew Karan, Vihaan, and Anuj's performance always should be with me. The makeup girl of these three during Ramleela, dressing Karan as Seeta always had been my favorite part. We always had been together. Nothing ever came between us.

And as the pages of the photo albums turned. Memories of a beautiful childhood tumbled in. Our birthday bashes have never been anything less than a feast. Every child of the neighborhood had been always invited.

It was a festival.

A festival of togetherness and friendship.

A festival of unity.

From annual functions to farewell. We grew up together and nothing changed besides our heights that are and become somewhat mature. No one ever came between us. Nothing ever came between us. Nothing but death itself.

We remained the same when Anuj proposed to me. We remained the same when Karan proposed Suhani. Even though Vihaan complained and whined about being the third wheel most of the time. Our friendship remained the same.

We didn't let anything come between us.

Not even distance when the three of them cleared NDA and I went for graduation.

Anuj and I had made a long-distance relationship with seldom contact work. But we made it work. We made everything work. We turner every odd in our favor. Every odd besides death itself.

Till death do us apart, the term couldn't be more hurting than it was now.

"Remember this, " Vihaan asked pointing towards a pic of the thirteen or so years old us posing in bunkers with guns.

Feeling very brave with our father's beside us.

Dad had taken us with him. It was on the training ground of their regiment and we were on the ninth cloud, puffing our chest and trying our best to intimate him and the soldiers around us.

"It was a good day, " I agreed moving my fingers softly over the cheeky grins of Anuj and Karan.

"and they will never grin like this, " I mumbled softly trying to remember the activities of that day.

The ear-splitting goofy grins that lit up our faces.

"Maybe they are at us, " Vihaan mumbled back wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

"Yeah, grinning at us from heaven.laughing because we are being crybabies, " I said my voice breaking again.

Both of them totally must be finding all this hilarious. Watching us like this looking lovingly even at their ramleela get up pics.

"Anuj would have hated it all, " Vihaan whispered

"He wanted us to smile, " I whimpered.

"Well, he should have stayed then, " Vihaan's fingers tightened around the photo album.

"He should have, " I agreed,

"He said he has a surprise for us, you know, " I said, letting the sobs finally break free.

"I don't know what to do, Vi, "

"I'm lost, "

I confessed against Vihaan's chest as he held me against him in a reassuring manner. It wasn't assuring much. For I knew he was silently crying holding me as much as I was crying loudly.

I hate goodbyes.

I really do.

~to be continued~