"Why didn't the bells toll for them"

I am very tired of the long journey to India and seek solace at the New Delhi airport. I look up to see uniformed commandos in camouflage uniforms assembling to board a plane, most probably for an excercise somewhere.
I am proud of them, not because they show "patriotism" in battles with another small country but because they bear and have borne the brunt of all political misadventures over the years. I think of one great misadventure in an island, ordered by a primeminister who was a commercial pilot and became primeminister only because he was son of a slain prime minister and who was ill-advised by people who did not understand.
People here, who claim to be this land's own (sons of the soil syndrome) showed their wrath against these uniformed cadres who went there at the behest of the genius prime-minister by not welcoming them back home. Agreed, it is their policy to not support people who went to fight against their "brothers". But now and even then, it is the same sons-of the soil who align themselves with the party that sent these uniforms.
The uniforms have shown no grudge, not that they have a choice, they go about doing what is required of them despite the fact that the bells didn't toll for them.
The bells will toll for the "sons-of-the-soil".

Lush Green

Lush Green:

I stopped stunned. It would be an understatement to say she was beautiful: dressed in a green churidhar, she was more than what mortal words could describe, those black eye-lashes maddened me; her long black hair was set immaculately. My mind registered all these descriptions in probably half a minute and then I realized she was gone. I had the habit of strolling around campus after lunch everyday and it was by chance I met this damsel. A small grin spread across my face; probably she was just another girl.
It was the month of February, the monsoons having lashed out in full fury just beginning to subside and the sun slowly beginning to peep out. (In three or four weeks, the scorching sun would be on)! There was a gentle breeze blowing causing lazy ripples in the small pools of rain water. Somewhere in a distant corner I could hear the tea shop owner’s assembled sound system yelling a famous old song. Days I cherish forever…
I watched them for a while and proceeded to my class.

Classes in my dear India where teachers were considered Gods! I was late for the class as usual and the lecturer looked at me with an air of superiority for a moment and then allowed me to get in. I ensconced myself in my favorite last bench and my hands involuntarily searched for a pen with my notebook wide open. The lecturer continued in his monotonous voice “First law of thermodynamics for a closed system states that ……………………..” I began to dream. She was the first thing that crossed my mind and she was the only thing. I had never felt like that before. Where would she be now? The question seemed absurd. How did it matter to me? A strange feeling crept over me. She meant something to me. A temporary lapse in my dreams was brought about by the lecturer raising his voice. He was solving a problem. I looked at my watch. Fifteen more minutes to go. The attendant who rang the bell was my best friend on-campus, he has relieved me of many a boring lecture. I packed my bag to go. There she was in the same bus too. This time she saw me too. I shifted my eyes instantly to the other side. I can’t tell how many times my eyes met hers, all this happening while Hariharan (the singer) in his sweetest voice was trying in vain to attract our attention.

Days galloped and weeks hastened to an end. It became my everyday schedule (and it looked like hers too) to take a walk past the library after lunch and during breaks we had. Just as we neared each other, our eyes looked into each other’s and then we walked on. I had my share of disappointments too when I walked hopefully and didn’t find her. My very good friend used to accompany me on such “purposeful” walks. He wanted to find out if what I was bragging about (to him alone of course) was true enough. He found out that she showed some interest in me too. This exercise went on for a while.
My friend began to goad me to explain my feelings to her. I badly wanted to. People who have been in my state will realize what it means to propose to a girl. We are courageous when we are alone and preparing for the explanation. The scenario entirely changes when we meet the girl. All courage dies inside us at that moment and we end up saying nothing. Our friends don’t realize this till they encounter something in their life. In my friend’s view, I was a big coward not even able to propose to a girl.

That was my final year in college and we still hadn’t talked to each other. We had our farewell party that was customary. There was a lot of singing and dancing but I resigned myself to eating and watching all that. The folks were really enjoying themselves but I had a more important plan to execute, I had to propose. We came near each other and as usual, our eyes met. I could feel my friend watching me from a distance. I managed to stammer “hi” and that was all that I said. I got a “hi” in return and that was all that I got. The party was getting over slowly. Our eyes began to part. All that that should have been said during three years never got said, all explanations due went into thin air. I fancied I saw moisture in her eyes.
I got a job in a small factory at a place about 300 miles from my hometown. I came back to my hometown for a holiday. I saw this beautiful damsel of mine again at the local bus-stop. This time, I was determined to tell her. I approached her with a new-found determination inside me. I got near her. A man appeared from nowhere handing her a packet. She noticed me. “He is my husband”, she blurted out, carefully avoiding my eyes.
I shook hands with the man I hated the most and after a few uncomfortable niceties I left her. Lush green memories!