Love Making Story

Author:- Khan Abdullah

A soldier is always a soldier, in a battlefield or in any other life affairs. He knows how to fight against a foe. He was a soldier in American army took participation in Afghanistan war and then he was sent to Iraq. He remembers the very moment he happened to the incident.

‘It was two in the morning when my troop was ordered to collaborate with aerial attack on Kabul. The whole city became a hellfire and taken in control by American Army within ten o’clock in the morning. Some insurgents still remained hidden reason wise, either they could not escape away or they were still in effort to gain what they lost. Gunshots of their deadening effort were heard in frequencies.

     I saw someone peeping out of a broken door, the moment he noticed me slipped in again. Since all my troop soldiers were keeping a dogwatch to the every movement made by the opposition from a safe slot, so was I. What is that behind the door I asked myself? A curiosity did behold me. I moved forward with an attention that I may put my life on bet with his at any moment. I broke the door with the gun butt and entered keeping safety measures in account.

The moment I reached the sight, I could not believe the scene. A fraction of second gave me the idea that a series of bomb clustered over the roof of the neighboring building have caused in suffocation for these refugees and left them dead last night. Dead were entangled with each other. Some were leaving an impression as they were made by charcoal, in a corner an old man was jolting up and down in dried pool of blood to get out of life, and an exceptionally beautiful girl was pacing to and fro in panic to bring him back, the man seemed me as her father. I rushed back out and brought my water thermos in to provide last drop of water for his final departure. I offered the water and she simply accepted it and starts pouring into the dying mouth, the old man saw me and thrown away the thermos by hitting it hard and died in front of us without quenching his thirst. She was helpless and I was bewildered.

           This incident realized me what the other side of the battle is, and it engraved graffiti into my soul. I left the place without picking up the thermos.

            Three months later I was appointed at some other province and in the morning I was in charge of patrolling to control the misbehavior of locals. In the queue of water dispenser I saw my old thermos with my name labeled on it. I waited for the moment for the owner of the thermos to arrive; the same girl. I trapped her way and asked about her; she responded in broken English, I felt as a heavy stone has been removed from my chest knowing that at least she can convey her. She explained how she is affected by the devastation of their mother land.

She opened the door so she could hear his car coming. Normally she would open the door when he comes, but today because it was late she thought of keeping it open.

Right after then we kept on meeting or regular frequencies and frankly speaking I started developing a feeling and perhaps even she could not resist her by doing so. She used to bring her hand-cooked dessert for me, I taught her English in return. Eventually the moment had to arrive that the leave I requested for was granted. I went to meet and proposed her to marry and she accepted it beyond all the religious and cultural boundaries. She stopped me and cooked that dessert again to give me farewell.

I had it and told. “Look, I will take you in my heartbeat to my Mom’ if you can give me some more for her” and she did so.

             Heading back to head quarter we were attacked by gorillas and an uneven bullet pierced in my left thigh, and I couldn’t realize what happened in later moments. I found myself lying on the hospital bed as I recollected my consciousness after eighteen hours.

           I am unable to continue with service of American Army anymore and can not go back to Iraq; my leg has been amputated…..