Free Blue Fish: The War Beneath by Sankalp

THE LETTER
    2011, May 28 th , RAICHUR, INDIA
    I am dead. If I were alive, I’d turn 70 in four days. They placed my body in my courtyard, and in a few minutes I will be reduced to ashes, and soon immersed in the Ganges.
    Having been a school teacher all these years in this rural village, it presented me a way to live a false life, concealing my true identity from others. The rain beats down on my corpse, while my grieving students – students I taught until my dying day - watch. I think about everything that took place 40 years ago. I wonder how India and her children would’ve reacted if our ‘heroic act’ had ever seen the light of day. The act I actively participated in as the Executive Officer of the Indian Naval Service Arjun Rathode.
    My life would have been on a different plane had I not taken the oath, 40 years ago. I wouldn't have been in this isolated village in the disguise of a teacher. I wouldn't have had to wait 40 painfully anticipatory years not posting the letter which belonged to somebody else. Maybe I was the only one to look forward to his own death, only to be able to fulfill a nobler task.
    But today as I lie here dead, the letter will find its way to its real destination. Many questions will be answered, and new questions will arise. My granddaughter will fulfill my last wish, the wish which has haunted me all these years
    My granddaughter Anju is 28 years old, and recently married a nice man called Ayush. I think about this, while I watch Anju hold the letter between her fingers, standing at her door, waiting for Ayush. She hands over the letter to him upon his approach and that takes him by a surprise.
    “What is it Anju?”
    “This is grandfather's last wish, post this letter today itself.”
    “Last wish! What is this?”
    Anju doesn’t know what the letter contains, or even its intended recipient. All she knows is the address it is to be sent to.
    Anju moves closer to Ayush.
    “I don't know,” she said.
    “Do you want to read it?”
    “No, just post this.”
    “Okay.”
    Ayush leaves.
    My soul follows Ayush, and the letter in his hand, to the post office. I can’t help but recollect the timeline of events that have let to this very moment. It was written almost 40 years ago by a Chief Engineering Officer of the Indian Naval Service, Prathap, right before death cradled him in his unforgiving arms.
    The letter which had been in my trunk for 40 years finally feels a gust of air. Ayush sits on his cycle, and travels over the muddy road, crosses the bridge and makes his way towards Raichur’s post office.
    I feel relieved as the letter reaches the post box. Ayush drops the letter in through the slit, which marks the beginning of its journey. It bears an untold secret, the story of an unsung hero which deserved to see the light of day.

OPERATION SEA-SIGHT
    1971, NOVEMBER 17 th , 0100 hours, VISHAKAPATNAM, NAVY HEAD QUARTERS
    The situation across the border had been volatile for a few days now. War was just around the corner. I had a feeling that a confidential meeting like this was bound to take place.
    The Commanding Officer Sharma, and the Administrative Officer Nath were concentrating on the Indian map. Six people in the hall including the Admiral, and the Rear Admiral were listening as one of the instructor briefed them about the plan. I was the youngest officer in the room.
    “500 kilometres away from Vishakhapatnam port; here at 120 0 east, securing 1200 kilometres down till 30 0 south is our agenda,” the instructor briefed.
    A briefing of this kind was not uncommon for anyone in the Navy, but what followed was a matter of concern.
    Gesturing with his cane, the instructor said, ‘There’s a possibility that the reports we have are a hoax, but we are not one for taking chances. The enemy could’ve started from Karachi towards the Arabian Sea yesterday. Our patrols in the area are on high alert.”
    “What are my orders?” spoke up Commanding Officer Sharma.
    The Admiral