Somewhere between the tranquillity and the vast desert,  it seemed like the only building was there. The condition of the building was dilapidated due to the salinity of the desert. It might be depicting plight of the soldiers working inside.

Hardly anyone tried to break the dull peace, but today there were lots of activities going on in the military hospital.

Khumaan Sinh and Rano Gadhvi had just caught a wounded intruder.

"We have to sit here until the identification is getting over, Khumaan." Rano told as he entered the tent from the outskirts that were showering the wrath of heat, "I don't think he will survive."

"Oh, beloved God! Why did you make me do such terrible thing on the last day of my duty?" Khumaan Sinh's face was showing his regret.

"He was an intruder, Khumaan. And if you hadn't shot him in time, he would have sent me to God." Rana spoke in sensible way. "Leave all this and tell me, what do you plan to do after retirement, dude?"

"Rana, don’t want to leave this mother's womb like warmth of desert, but we have to go. Want to spend rest of the life in adoring goddess Ashapura. Children are married and settled in their life. Your bhabhi also wishes to settle at Matana Madh.”

They both remained silent for a while as they didn’t know what to say. The strong wind was whistling to remind its presence.

Seeing the sadness on Khumaan's face again, Rana said, "What is it now, Khumaan?"

"Why, Rana? They say that now there is peace and brotherhood. Manmohan-Musharraf are having discussions every day. The cricketers of both the countries are playing at each other’s grounds and enjoying hospitality. The bus service 'Kaarvaan-e-Aman' has also started, and on the other hand these intruders, they believe in kill or to be killed!" Khumaan's voice was not the one of anger but of helplessness.

"It's just the beginning, Khumaan. Total peace is still far away. You'll have to agree that the infiltration has been much reduced nowadays and the Sir Creek boarder is being redefined. The talk is going on for barbed wire fencing. I think the problem of infiltration in Kutch will be solved soon. "

‘Yes, the border is being re-assessed! The border is being re-assessed, also there will be a barbed wire fence!  A barbed wire fence. Now, may be no Khumaan Sinh will ever met any Sarfaraz Ali!’

Khumaan murmured and lost in the past.

---------

Sun was right above his head. He opened his eyes, but he felt his eyelids quite heavy with fatigue. The thirst for water made him open his eyes. Looking around, he remembered yesterday’s incident. The camp was flooded due to the cyclonic tidal wave. After swimming in the water for seven to eight hours, he saw the land, and as soon as he reached the ground, he collapsed.

After a long good sleep, he opened the eyes and tried to get up, he felt to be drained. He made one false attempt to know that this part of creek was in India or Pakistan. It was almost impossible to identify the border due the floodwater all around.

Along with the thirst he felt hunger too. The whistling of the wind blowing from the mangrove trees as well as the sound of the ravens perched in its bushes were making the endless peace of the desert even more frightening, but Khumaan Sinh heard the clatter of hope in the cacophony of the ravens. He proceeded towards the mangrove bushes with the hope that the eggs might be found in the nests of the ravens and the hunger would be satisfied.

He was shocked on a few steps. On the ground he saw human footsteps. On dried muddy land he could see the carved footsteps clearly. With a little hope and a little caution, he proceeded to trace the trail. The steps were of a young man, ‘could be a soldier’ he thought. ‘Also, the soldier must be tired as the steps seemed to have been taken by someone staggering.’ Walking a short distance away he spotted a person in Pakistani military uniform. He was lying between the Mangrove bushes.

'Would he be alive or dead?  Or is he pretending to be consciously unconscious?' Khumaan Sinh could not decide. It was foolish to go near him unarmed, but it was unaffordable to be careless. He found a sharp stone around him and proceeded towards the unconscious soldier. Confirming that there were no weapons around him, he began to examine him without touching. His name was written on her uniform - Sipahi Sarfaraz Ali.

For more information, Khumaan checked his pockets and the soldier opened his eyes. Seeing the Indian soldier with a sharp stone in front of him, his mind went on full alert. He punched Khumaan with lightning speed. The stone flung away from Khumaan's hand. Khumaan was shocked by this surprise attack, but he struck Sarfaraz twice as hard. This duel might have lasted for barely fifteen minutes or so as both reluctantly lie down on the floor with tired bodies.

After a while, the two began to wander in search of food and water. All the mental battles were fought with each other except to fight directly. After the first hand-to-hand fight this was about the food. This time the Pakistani soldier won. Of course Khumaan also found food after a while. In searching for water, fuel wood, flint, etc., it went dark. No rescue team had yet arrived from either country.

However, both of them did not know in which country they are now and therefore they didn't have any hope for anyone to come. The two of them were waiting for the tide to recede and thinking that if find the self in enemy nation, one has to flee from there to the border of his own country or if one would be in his own country, he wouldn’t let the other escape from.

It was night time. It was safer for both of them to be together for any possible attack of wild animal. The two enemies, who had never spoken to each other before, lit the fire without saying a word.

The war of words was yet to begin. "Finally, Pakistan has won," said Sarfaraz, eating the cucumber. Despite understanding Sarfaraz's gesture towards the first search for food, Khumaan said, "The fools have not given up bragging despite losing on the field three times."

The war of 1971, partition of India, partition aid, Hindu-Muslim riots, Mohammad Ali Zina, comparisons of military strength, etc., they continued to be fought on a number of issues. But the poison of hatred was slowly receding instead of going deeper. Both knew inwardly that the unknown enemy was also protecting the other. Moreover, both were well aware of the political games going on between the two countries.

The war of words was still going on, "Openly losing the fight led to playing terrorism, infiltration games? What kind of bravery is this? Your government teaches innocent people to kill their brothers and neighbours in the name of freedom. Aren't you ashamed of this?" Khumaan was venting his anger by speaking like a film dialogue. He knew it would have no effect on Sarfaraz.

But the fact was something different. Contrary to the expectation that Sarfaraz would make some different excuses to vent his anger and utter sentences like 'Kashmir is ours', Khumaan was heard saying, "Yes, I am ashamed. Not me but many of our soldiers are ashamed of this policy of our government. We are ready to die in the war field like a soldier, but we also suffer when we see terrorism at border. We also have a heart. We are human beings too, Khumaan. Whether it is Kashmir or Balochistan. We are not waiting for a war to take place, but if a war breaks out due to different ideology, we are ready to be martyred on the border. In that case we wouldn’t bother even about our family. My friend, we are also against the acts like infiltration, terrorism. But, we have to suffer due to those few bastards.”

Stunned by the confession, Khumaan kept staring at the Pakistani with an awe! ‘Is actually Sarfaraz defeated by him, as he confronted his helplessness or to feel the guilt of the policy of his country?‘ he thought. Moments later, he couldn’t resist his emotions. He stood up and hugged Sarfaraz, ‘You won brother. Your heart won.’ he declared the victory of enemy to himself. The Hindustan-Pakistan line was apparently erased by the tide of this peace storm.

The night of hatred was over and the dawn of love was spreading around. Both the tired soldiers were preparing the earthen bed with smiling faces, though the desire to talk a lot, did not allow both of them to sleep. "By the grace of God, I have a son - Imaan. My wife- Zubeda wants him to be a soldier too. However, I want him to become a doctor. Giving life to someone is better than killing someone.” Sarfaraz opened his heart.

"I have two sons. Could not say, what they are going to be. But after school they play cricket all day and say that we will join the Indian cricket team beat Pakistan." Khumaan joked and both laughed out loud.

Sarfaraz said, "If you had said the same thing a few hours ago, I would have said that the Pakistan cricket team has won most of the matches against India. Now, shouldn't dream of winning."

Again the laughter of the two echoed in the creek.

"Dude, usually people becomes friends first, then they fight."

“Yeah, we fought first, then became friends, isn’t it strange?”

Then for two days they kept on talking about many things. About Kesar Keri of Kutch (a type of mangoes) and Lahore's red rice, Bollywood films and Sufi music, ancestral rites, their experiences in army, the futility of war, jokes about one's torn clothes, their love stories and what not. The never ending tales seemed more precious than any military medal. It appeared like the two neighbours came to participate in some fair or festival with each other, and weren’t stuck in a barren desert island.

But everything has an end. The tide was receding. Both had same thought in their mind. In whose country will be both now and which friend will have to betray either his country or a newly found friend?

However, luck favoured both from taking this difficult decision. As the tidal waters faded, they were delighted to see that they were in no man's land!  What a coincidence it was!

They hugged each other for a long, promised to be in touch through letters and said goodbye with heavy hearts.

-------------

"Khumaan Sinh, sir is calling you. He is very happy with you. He was saying that the intruder who was caught by Khumaan Sinh and Rana today was a ferocious terrorist", said a soldier breaking Khumaan Sinh's nostalgia.

Khumaan Sigh perished the sweet memories of the past and came to present, "sir did you call me?"

“Please come Khumaan Sinh! The one you caught today came with a very aggressive attack plan. These people are shameless. They are having very high dreams at such a young age."

“Sir, is he alive or dead?"

"Dead like a dodo."

"Oh! What was his name?"

"What is the use of knowing all these? Is there any old acquaintance?"

"Sir, this is the last day of the job. I just wanted to know that which mother’s beloved have I snatched from her, which father’s hopes have I killed!”

“Hey Khumaan Sinh, you are too much with this! All right, the name is Imaan Ali Sarfaraz Ali. The father was in the Pakistan Army. He was 17 years old, since-"

Khumaan Sinh did not dare to listen further. Words from Sarfaraz's last letter came alive in front of his eyes, ‘Khumaan, nothing seems right, my friend! Imaan is going wrong way. Our dreams will be shattered. I am very scared, man!  In the name of religion, his friends seducing him. The boy went amok, brother! Nothing seems to be in my hands! Well, as Allah wishes. Khuda Haafiz, bhai.’

-          Hardik Raychanda (25th Sept., 2020)