The True Soldier

He lifted his already packed backpack onto his broad shoulders and started off.  He was a military man. He had served his country nobly for the past 25 years. And in this past 25 years he had seen his wife only on three occasions. Twice when the battalion returned from war and every soldier was given a day off to see their families and once when she came over and stayed there. Never after that, did he see her again. That was 15 years ago. Not a call or a message from his beloved, for the past 15 years, for he was on the border protecting his country. He didn’t even know if she was alive. But he had hope and faith, that she was alive and happy.

His bus came to a halt in the dusty village centre. His house was a couple of kilometres from there and he had no other option but walk. But this wasn’t difficult as he already had walked kilometres with the body of his best friend on his back. He started his homeward journey with full zeal and memories of his beautiful wife.

He thought about the love they shared and the caring they had for each other. He thought about the strength and will power she had, when he told her that he will be joining the army. He admired her determination to go on with life after all that had happened to her. It was cruel, really spiteful what they did to her. But still she had the courage to go on. He wondered whether she was still the same after the mishap.

He went past houses and cottages, thinking about her, missing her even more. So much had changed; yet, nothing on the way home seemed to cheer him up. The children playing on the street, the vendors selling their wares, the village ladies fighting over the hand pump, nothing seemed to lift up his spirits. At last he reached a familiar gate.

He opened the gate and walked in. He ignored the beautiful orchard, the squirrels and the birds on the trees, for he had eyes only for the woman standing on the doorstep. A pale but happy, wrinkled, yet clear, filled with marks and bruises, but still beautiful face looked at him as he walked towards her.

She had marks of healing wounds and burnt skin all over her body, nevertheless, all he could see was the beautiful girl that he loved, the gorgeous lady he married, and the strong yet stunningly beautiful woman that she had become. He saw the woman who stuck with him during trying times as enthusiastically as she was with him during happy times. He saw the person who had the inner strength and will to live even after being tortured and harassed by terrorists, 15 years back.

In the weak, burnt and unpleasant, putrid exterior of his wife, he saw real beauty.  Just as she hugged him, he turned around and saw the most beautiful orchard there ever was. He appreciated the beauty of the trees, the bushes, the flowers and the squirrels and birds only after seeing the love of his life after a long time.

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This is my belief and my belief alone that, Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder and that real beauty can be appreciated only by those who know what real beauty is.

P.S The picture is a still from the movie Lakshya, which is edited and posted by "yours truly."