A journey...

I have been on a journey.......a journey of conflicts and dilemmas...a journey that took me to the heart of traditions, rituals and history, a journey that revealed to me the reason for pride, humility and integrity,,a journey that has made me realise with astonished acceptance that the legacy that has been left behind by Mukund is significant and has touched more lives than one.

There is something called the collective unconscious....a theory put forward by Carl Jung which focuses on the collective human unconscious as a single, thriving, dynamic entity from where each and every human has been and will continue drawing various thoughts and emotions from. The collective unconscious of the Army and those who belonged to this fraternity will be an intimidating and yet inspiring one. Like any organisation it has its  flaws, a few corrupt hands and a few egotistic mistakes of birth...but beyond all this ...there is pride and valour, there is integrity and strength, humility and unbreakable bonds of brotherhood. So, if you feel that a veteran soldier seems to exaggerate his stories of valour, remember that he needs the trills and frills to liven up 70 percent of his time in the army that was suffused with the kind of hardships that you and I cant even bring ourselves to imagine. And beyond all this, it may hold true that he is not exaggerating at all, because as I found out, the army is a place for heroics, true and exaggerated, it is a place for intense and dramatic emotions and incomprehensible and unreasonable demands of sacrifice. So the pride that fills the veins of the officers when they hear about a lost son of the regiment or when, on a cold windy night, the band plays out the tune of the regimental song is real...it is not , as civilians might think, a display of colourful feathers..it is real..in spite of the seeds of cynicism that certain instances of disappointment might sow in the collective unconscious, the pride tends to dispel it all. It brings meaning to the fraternity.

As I stood, awkward and lost in the limelight that day, on the stage beside the band stand of the Rajput Regimental Centre in Fategarh, unveiling a cold lifeless bust of my husband, it suddenly dawned on me what it stood for......the blood of valiant lives lost before,,the dreams of mothers and fathers left to live through the burden of life, the tears of wives bereaved of their very soul and strength, the angst of the sons and daughters who can only call a vivid painting or a dark bust their father. I unveiled the sorrow and pride of a thousand hearts left behind to celebrate the legacy that single person left behind. I unveiled the son of a proud regiment. I unveiled the love of my life. I unveiled the unplanned and unexpected loss that has been re-tailored as a sacrifice that I was forced to make. I unveiled the truth that in reality the one who was brave was portrayed in the restructured lifeless atoms beside me...he made the decision to be brave even before that fateful evening on April 25th, 2014, when he had a choice not to. I, on the other hand had his legacy thrust upon me and no corners to turn to but that of a façade of bravery.

To justify the turns and twist of my life and my loss.....I need to borrow a few sentiments from the collective unconscious of the regiment that Mukund and I belong to. Especially, the one called pride. I will never know what exactly transpired in Mukund's heart that day but as I have mentioned before he had already earned his right to honour and pride as well as my respect and admiration the day he donned the uniform.To this day, that is what I have felt for him, but this journey helped me strengthen it a little more. It wasn't easy, every man in uniform reminded me of him and all the "if only"'s that haunt my immature and unsophisticated mind. I yearned to see him just around the corner, smartly dressed in his uniform, a phenomenon in himself, walking down the green lawns, a glass in his hand and  cheeky grin on his face. The Mukund everyone else saw through the painting and bust was so different from the Mukund I knew. I struggled with the disparity and the very truth in my head that I had done nothing to deserve the limelight. It was all him, and all for him. If I was given a chance, I would do it again and again and again not because of the pride I force myself to feel today to justify the eradication of my sorrow but for the love I have for this man and will always have.

The journey at the end helped me understand that Mukund and Mukund the Officer, were both important, That the legacy of valour as well as the pride and status he receives is nothing to feel awkward about, because it doesn't change who he is but only inspires others and uplifts others. Why should I dissect that? What he was to me will always be intact.....I just want to live a life that he would be proud of, humbly..knowing that I have no place on the stage beside his statue but only in his heart  and I wait to take that place ...when I meet him ....when time stops...