Page 131 - Love Story of a Commando

The volley of bullets was shot mercilessely while the unprepared
militants were not able to differentiate between their own and the enemy in
that acute darkness caused by dust and smoke while the commandos had
their protective goggles on their eyes. That made it easy for the commandos
to move swiftly, spread around and kill militants even at point blank range.
The years of training and the expertise of a few commandos was
overpowering the young recruits and their ustads. There were a few militants
who were firing back but their bullets had a tough time finding the fistful of
enemies… prepared and lethal.
It was a tactical win of Major Tushar and his team of India’s biggest
badass killers.
Soon a panicky environment was created on the militants’ side as
they were too shocked and wretched to respond properly. Their
communication devices lay destroyed among the debris and only a few were
able to place distress calls to their friends and relatives instead of asking for
reinforcements. There was a series of explosions in the area when a grenade
probably hit their ammunitions depot. Those explosions ripped out
everything there, the weapons, vehicles, bikes, cycles, cables, steel, stones,
glass and also humans. It annihilated almost everyone from the enemy side.
There was nothing left except falling rocks and burning trees,
causing a forest fire engulfing the rest of the living quickly. There was
blood, bones and bodies flying in the air amidst those gigantic flames. I was
numb and simply following the code of war, following the winning side,
ignoring the cries and shouts of the injured and not even stopping to glance
at the dead.
After all, they would have done the same to us. Maybe worse. Right?
There is something about violence, you never get used to it. The
repeated sights of annihilations and visions of the slain leave a scar on your
soul each time, only deeper. You will never be the same person again. No
wonder the killers and warriors understand each other so well and constantly
hunt for each other, to kill or be killed.
It was all very blurry. I could feel the running footsteps around me
and Virat holding my hand and running quickly ahead in the jungle. I could
see the launcher fixed on Virat’s back, yet it did not lessen his speed.
Sometimes some of the commandos would turn back, ducking the incoming
bullets and return a volley of bullets, only to run relentlessly soon after. We
did not know which of our friends died or survived but we were running to
save our own lives. In such situations humanity surrenders before survival.
Vision blurs and primordial instincts are evoked. This is human. The
talk of world prosperity and peace is all fake, our limits end at the basic
instincts of survival of the fittest. That is one ultimate truth.