story of a soldier and his wife
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Answer:
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Answer:
Hey mate..I think I need a story based on this topic
here is ur answer
Explanation:
Raghuveer Singh closed his eyes. He wanted to cast away from his pain. He had never felt so weak yet so strong in all his life; vigour and rage were burning up in him. Pain turned more and more intense with each passing second but his face bore no trace of it as he knew that this suffering won’t last very long. It’s there for a short while.
The aroma of blood passed his nose, earth around in these snow cold mountains is drowned in blood today. Raghuveer struggled to move, to raise his head; but three bullets in him had made once this proud soldier so languid by strength that he let his body on its own. The darkness in his eyes gave waves to his memories. Though in pain but he was smiling, he saw his mother miles away from this hatred, rage and bloodshed standing on the verandaah of their house in small dusty town.
His love his life feathered him across the lane of old blurred memories, he could see them feel them today as he never cared to look back at them before. The frame of memories in front of his closed eyes turned so lively, full of innocence, care, love and affection, as to make him live the life he had stooped. He saw, a kid a small boy of nearly around six years by face falling from a tree in backyard of his house in town, blood from head and tears from eyes spilled out and he began to wail, cry aloud for mama. A beautiful young lady wrapped in dhoti, busy in kitchen washing utensils and creating and destroying her own imagination in mind shivered as his cries passed her ears, she flunked the kadahi from her hands and leaps for her boy with a single breath, she rushed and took the kid in her arms,
“Oh my boy; don’t cry, stop your tears
Don’t cry my son my brave little boy”
She was panicked but this did not deteriorate the comfort, the quilt of relief she was to her child. And now with kid held close to heart in arms she hasted towards the doctors clinic, not even bothering to close the doors of the house.
But here today where he has fallen, bullets value more than blood, where life and death is laid on trigger. The fear of death had never touched his heart, but today lying on dear earth for which he fought he longed for that lap of life, same quilt of affection and love where he could take his last breath
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