Men of the match

Harlnder Slkka

Kargil

IT'S A match between life and death, the rules are cruel, prize money nil. Yet our soldiers are the real Men of the Match. They are playing with guns and bombs.

    Some of the winners lie silently in the wooden crates that bring them to the pavilion…No replays, no decisions from the third umpire and hardly any spectators.  Far away, the nation applauds its heroes.

    In Kargil, heavy and accurate shelling has struck the Collector’s bungalow, the kachheri, Circuit House and the Dy. Commissioner’s residence.  The Food Corporation godown at Kargil has also been destroyed but food stocks have been saved and put in the custody of the Dy. Commissioner for distribution to the one lakh Kargil residents, 90 per cent of them Shias.

    The nearby Baroo township resembles a ghost town in America’s Wild West.  The township, which houses all the district and Central Government offices, has been evacuated due to shelling since May 8.  Unaffected, the citizens have set up tea stalls and kiosks for the jawans.

    Pinpoint accuracy with which the shells are landing indicates the involvement of the Pakistani Army.  It is certainly not the handiwork of the mujahideen.   To send a shell from PoK, across the valleys to a market destination in the Indian territory requires tremendous coordination from various agencies.

    The Kargil highway is being bombarded regularly.  A night, it is possible to see the flight path of the shells.  Sometimes, a shell hisses past and you thank your stars to be standing alive.  Any vehicle with its headlight on is sure to invite a shell.

    Cooks have deserted both the Broadway and Siachen Hotels at Kargil.  Broadway is now the makeshift office of the Development Commissioner.  It’s candle light dinners for all, often illuminated by a passing shell.

    The morale of the soldiers is sky high.  Even the wounded are declaring themselves fit.  They must fight.  They must avenge the intrusion, the merciless killings of their brother soldiers.  Chants of “Vande Mataram” fill the valleys.  The anger is bursting from the seams.

    And every day more jawans join in form all parts of the country.  Their hands clasp in recognition.  Their eyes speak the common language.  The guns fire non-stop in the most fearful India-Pak match of all.