Beyond Love Lines: Do You Know Jeevan Who Loved Nancy?

By Krish

Do you know Jeevan who Loved Nancy?
Jeevan, a Sainik School educated young army officer has been a fighter from childhood. However, he chooses not to fight the emotional pain he endures and finds addiction in that pain when he loses his childhood love, Nancy. Dragging his life in the army routine, Jeevan gets posted to Kashmir, where he gets an unexpected phone call from his former colleague and friend, Rehman. For Jeevan, life is not the same anymore. It sends him down a trail of mysterious events embroiled in the dirty game of politics and terror. The soldier in Jeevan is tried and tested even while the lover in him is pining for his lost love.
Remember, this is not a melodramatic sweet love story that you have read over and over again!!!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Notion Press
• Release date: Dec 29, 2015
• ISBN: 9789352066292

Book preview

you.

Prologue

Why do you love her so much? he asked.

I just love her, came the reply.

If Love is true, why are you sad?

I lost her.

You mean she doesn’t love you anymore? he asked.

Silence…

Can someone just stop loving? Anyway, if it’s over, let it go, Jeevan.

I know, but I can’t.

True love never hurts, neither is it lost.

Are you saying I didn’t really love her?

No, I meant you do, but did she? Did she ever love you?

She kissed me, Jeevan replied.

Oh, boy! A kiss? Ahh, Jeevan! Is that what defines love? A kiss? he asked.

But she wouldn’t have kissed me if she didn’t love me. I know her.

She was just 15, and so were you, he reminded him.

But I loved her much before that, ever since we were six.

Ok. Tell me this; what did you give in her life, Jeevan?

She says she is what she is, because of me.

And what did she bring into your life? Other than the pain you have now?

Silence…

Did her presence or absence change anything in you, Jeevan? Did you not live all these days without her?

Her absence brought much pain to me.

And her presence? he asked.

Silence…

In her presence, were you happy, Jeevan? I mean, not when you were kids, but when you both grew up?

Silence…

So her presence didn’t bring any happiness in your life. Then how can her absence bring pain?

Silence…

Is she to blame for your failures and pain?

No, I am.

Then correct it. Correct your failures and happiness will return to your life.

I can’t.

You have to!

No, I can’t.

But why not?

Because I don’t want to.

But why?

Because I like this pain.

You like this pain? How can you like the pain?

It makes me feel my love for her was true, and that no one else will love her like I did. That makes me feel good, a feel that my love was true.

So the pain is made by you, not her, and not because of the love, said he.

I loved her and will always do.

And that thought, that your love was great makes you happy. Your sadness is because you want to feel good with the pain, a sadistic pain. You suffer within yourself to prove that your love was true, though you know the truth that she isn’t worth it.

I love her.

It doesn’t matter whether she does, right?

Silence…

You are addicted to the pain. You call it sacrifice. You feel good enduring the pain, he remarked.

Maybe, Jeevan replied.

Is she worth your pain?

No one is worth our pain, but our love is.

Don’t you think someone else can love you more, someone who is worth it and who can add meaning to your life?

I don’t want to think of it.

Ya, you know that’s possible; but you are addicted to the pain and not to the girl. We all are so. The thought of our love and sacrifices are great, even though it pains, that pain gives you happiness, like drugs. Be it in battle or love, pain is addictive. You are addicted to it and you have imprisoned yourself in that, because you feel that the pain makes your love true.

Silence…

Get out of it, Jeevan! Your love may be true and will still be. You have a long life ahead and the world needs you. Get out of your jail. Let it go, Jeevan, it wasn’t worth you. You just have to decide to get out of it, he said.

Jeevan woke up in his small room in the Army camp. His inner conscience, he was right. It was not her absence that hurt him; it was his addiction to the belief that his love was the greatest. We all believe the depth and truth of love depends on the pain we have when it’s gone, but is it the truth?

Quick Understanding of the Indian Army

The protagonist in this story is an Indian Army officer and hence, some organizational details of the Army are given here for the easy understanding and general awareness of the reader.

The Indian Army is a twelve lakh strong armed force, responsible for national security and the defence of Republic of India. It has a regimental system which is further divided into battalions. Grenadiers is an old and highly decorated serving Infantry regiment of Indian Army with many battalions, e.g., 16 Grenadiers and 18 Grenadiers.

Rashtriya Rifles (RR) is a para military force raised by the Republic of India exclusively for counter terrorist operations in Jammu and Kashmir. It consists of soldiers and officers on deputation from the Army, BSF, CRPF, CISF, Assam Riffles and other para military forces in India. The deputation to RR normally lasts two years during which the soldiers and officers are assigned to counter terrorist operations. RR is structurally divided into forces (read divisions), e.g., Delta force, Kilo force. Each force is responsible for counter terrorist operations in areas assigned to it; e.g., Delta force is responsible for the area Doda in Jammu and Kashmir. Each force is further divided into battalions, with each battalion assigned a sub area or any other specific task.

Source: Wikipedia and Internet.

Chapter 1

Delhi Airport, Military Enclosure

December, 2009

The heavy chopper blades are cutting through the morning wind, disturbing the silence of the area. An Mi 17 chopper is waiting for the signal to take off. It’s December, and the winter has already started. At ten degree Celsius, the weather is chilly and cold winds blow across, stinging everyone with needle point touches. A unit of men in combat uniform with green berets jogs towards the chopper. They are armed with multiple types of guns, mostly AK-47 assault rifles. They are in no hurry; everyone has a composed face, but it doesn’t hide the anxiety in each of them. They are the last unit for this year, moving to replace the units engaged in counter terrorist operations in the beautiful land of Jammu & Kashmir.

A young officer is giving commands to the unit. The men respond to him positively and with respect, but his body language shows that he is new to this. At twenty-two, Lieutenant Jeevan Krishna is tall and handsome. He has a muscular frame that is tuned to perfection by the Army training. His eyes are big and he has a forehead that matches them. A clean shaven face with well-shaped nose and lips, he is on par with any Bollywood superstar. This is his first field posting after passing out in July from the Indian Military Academy, Dehradun. The men board the chopper and the officer salutes the air crew outside and goes in. He walks inside the chopper personally inspecting his men and their seat belts. After being satisfied with inspection, he takes his seat and fastens the seat belt.

Please switch off your mobiles. All communication will be through the copter radio only, the pilot announced.

Jeevan takes his cell phone and refreshes his Facebook; no new messages. He opens a chat window and drag through the last conversation.

"Reached Dubai and waiting for the connection flight," it read. It was received a day ago, and he had messaged back several times in the last twenty-four hours, but had received no reply yet. He types again.

"Have you reached New York?

I have boarded my ride to Kashmir.

Message me soon; cya."

He puts his cell phone on airplane mode and showed the pilot a thumbs up to take off. The blade’s speed increased, which gave the upward thrust for the chopper to slowly lift along with the other two. The three choppers swiftly started flying to the north, towards the mighty Himalayas.

Jeevan looked at his men. Unlike himself and a few new recruits, the others had already flown in a helicopter; the snow, the cold and the heights were not new to them. He looked at the new recruits; some looked excited and the others, tense. He could see his own emotions in them, except that he kept them to himself. It was not the excitement of flying or the tension or the challenges ahead that filled his thoughts. It was the last two years of his life that had seen events he never wanted, and which had become a pain deep inside.

The responsibility of an officer, and his efficiency to lead his men to beat challenges, is something imparted to him through methodological training from his childhood, and his trainers and friends would testify that he is a born leader, a soldier. The one part that he was never trained to face had shaken him lately. The emotional world of love and break up, which were unknown to him, had written a new chapter in his life. He knew what to do if he was ambushed, or faced the enemy directly, or if he was shot and injured in battle. He is trained to keep alive and control pain, but the pain caused by love; he didn’t know it existed outside the poems he had studied in school, or in the movies he had seen. It was for real and he didn’t know how to handle it.

He looked at his men again, some had started reading and some were catching up on lost sleep, while others chit-chatted. He looked out through the window; he could see the clouds passing by and the mighty Himalayas covered with snow approaching on the horizon. The beauty of what he saw calmed his nerves. The new recruit sitting near him hummed some unheard song, but he felt it had a calming effect; any music has that effect when you have a pain burning in heart, he thought. He closed his eyes and listened to it and a pattern started to form in his mind; slowly, colours started appearing, and then it turned into a beautiful one, the face of his love, the face of the pain in his heart. He smiled unconsciously; he felt the beauty was worth the pain.

P

What is the currency of Russia? asked the bearded man in his white uniform, who introduced himself as Commodore Robin.

The ten-year old was nervous but he stammered out the words, Ruuuby… Ruby, sir.

The Commodore grinned. His white beard made him look majestic, but his eyes had a fatherly expression. Can you spell it?

R..u..b..b..y.

It’s Rouble, son, The Commodore made some remarks in the paper he had in front.

Jeevan was facing the first interview in his life. The interview was to select the few who would make it to the prestigious Sainik School known as the ‘Cradle to the Armed forces.’ It all started with a newspaper advertisement two months back. He had cleared the written exam and was now at the Trivandrum Medical College for his medical tests and interview.

The Commodore looked at his colleagues; all had smiles on their face. He smiled and asked the kid, Jeevan, is there anything else you want to ask us, son?

Yes, sir. Am I selected?

The Board laughed. Son, we will let you know when all the interviews are over and the rank list is prepared.

P

Cycling at high speed, Jeevan made a sudden brake in front of the house at the corner. His face was full of joy as he had just signed an official document for the first time. As a ten-year old, he now considered himself a big boy. He was glad he could form a big signature properly that he had practised for over a year now. His friends used to say one’s signature should be very complicated and big for no one else should be able to replicate it, but the biggest difficulty for Jeevan was replicating his own signature more than once. He was carrying a paper envelope torn at one end. He started ringing his cycle bell again and again, till the door opened.

Aunty, where is Nancy? asked Jeevan.

She is sleeping. What happened? Do you have tuition now? came the query.

A parent always thought if their child’s friend came home, it was to discuss tuitions or studies, and they are more than happy to receive them. All other visits were looked at with suspicion and perceived to be unwanted. Why can’t someone simply visit their friend’s house to chit-chat? Jeevan had no idea about how grownups thought. Childhood was all about tuitions in India.

No, Aunty, I have got admission to Sainik School.

Oh, good. That’s the school you skipped tuition classes for, and went to attend some interview last month, right? I will just wake Nancy up. You should give us a good treat for this, okay? Aunty went inside, crying out, Nancy, Nancy…? Your friend has come to see you.

After a while, Nancy appeared at the door. Come in, Jeevan. What’s the matter?

Jeevan smilingly handed over the envelope to her as he stepped inside the house. She opened the envelope and read the letter inside. Jeevan looked at her curiously to catch the slightest expressions on her. Her face lit up, so did Jeevan’s. Hey, this is great, Jeevan. Congrats, wow! Now I can tell my friends that I have an Army friend. Mom, Jeevan has got into the Army! She ran into the kitchen.

Jeevan was very happy; the feeling of having impressed his crush was more than getting an admission to a good school for him. Army friend? It should be Army boyfriend or something like that, not just Army friend, he thought as he gazed at the showcase which every Indian home had, displaying, rather jam packed with showpieces, gifts, pictures and idols of Gods. If that was not enough, there were family photos, flowers, medals and certificates won by many generations: One couldn’t guess what was not there in it. He looked at the prizes and medals Nancy had won. Most of the prizes were won along with him as quiz and debate partners, and others for dance. He loved her dancing, especially the expressions her face had when she performed Bharathanatyam.

So Jeevan, you have got into the Army? Aunty enquired, offering him a chilled glass of Rasna, the favourite drink of kids then.

No, Aunty, the school trains us to get into the Armed forces. I need to write an exam after my twelfth grade to get into NDA, and then to the Armed forces, Jeevan answered, taking the Rasna glass offered to him.

Confused by the answer, she asked again, So you will be in the Army after your twelfth?

Hopefully so, if I pass my NDA exam, Jeevan took a sip of his favourite drink.

Whatever! You are my Army friend! declared Nancy.

P

The copter jolted as it entered the rain clouds. Jeevan opened his eyes and looked at his cell phone for messages as was his habit, not remembering that it was in airplane mode. He smiled at himself; he had never used his phone much a week back. He had isolated himself very long after his break up, and it had all changed with her visit; she charmed him, pulled him outside his self-made prison of past love. He didn’t want to let go the pain, because pain caused by love has an addictive power. He enjoyed the pain, but his new friend showed him that there was life outside his prison of love.

He never knew he was being pulled out; his new friend had such charm. He looked at the last SMS she had sent before she left Delhi.

Hey, I have boarded my flight. Hope you too have a safe journey. Keep away from troubles there and stay safe. Don’t be sad for that girl again; she is not worth it. I have to catch my connection from Dubai and then again a twenty hour flight. Thanks for everything, the help and the good time we had. Thank you. Bye, tc

He thought about this new girl in his life, his new friend. He never thought he could be attached to any girl again a week back, but she changed it all. She even made him think of a new life. It’s just friendship, he justified to himself, as he still loved his past and the pain. Like love, the pain too was addictive.

He looked at his men; the new recruit near him is still humming, but now a familiar Bollywood song. He saw another new recruit totally upset, and about to throw up. He signalled to the medical assistant to take care of the new recruit. The Subedar sitting opposite to Jeevan spoke.

Sab ji, he is new to flying; he will be alright in a few minutes.

Jeevan just replied with a smile. He knows he commands many veterans and they deserve respect for what they knew and what they are.

How many times have you been to Kashmir?

Sab ji, I had spent at least ten years there. Fought the Kargil war and fought with pride; recaptured Tiger Hill.

He remembered the Kargil war. He had been in the fifth or sixth grade then, and he used to wait for the morning newspaper to read about the war and the bravery of Indian soldiers. A wave of patriotism and respect for the veteran soldier rushed through his veins, as he smiled again and gave a small salute to the soldier. He looked out again through the window. They were flying over the snow-capped mountains. He had dreamt about visiting these snow covered mountains but never thought he would meet them in uniform.

P

In five years, Nancy grew up to be a beautiful girl, the heartthrob of the guys in the neighbourhood and school, while Jeevan became a well built, tall and handsome guy with girls flocking around him. Vacations became the best time in Jeevan’s life. They roamed around the city, went for tuitions, watched movies and cycled a lot. The neighbourhood children called them ‘Love Birds’; neither of them even spoke about love, but Jeevan enjoyed the status in the neighbourhood. He became the self-proclaimed boyfriend of Nancy without her knowledge.

The tenth grade exams and the long vacation ensured they had more time to be together. The Bollywood film Jism was making rounds in the teenage circle for the onscreen kiss of John Abraham, a first in Indian main stream films. Nancy managed to get hold of a pirated CD of the film and rushed to Jeevan’s home.

Hey, Nancy, why are you here? Jeevan was surprised to see her in his room in the afternoon.

Shhhhhh… I have got something to show you. Guess what? She handed over the CD to Jeevan.

Which CD is this? Computer games? Jeevan clearly had no clue.

"No, Dumbo! It’s VCD of John Abraham’s film Jism; a pirated one though. Where is your sister, Priya? Is she home?" Nancy took the CD and headed towards the computer and switched it on.

Jeevan was clearly cut off the teenager circuits outside the walls of his school as he had only limited TV viewing time. He had heard the good songs from the movie but John Abraham was still an unknown figure.

No, she is at our grandparents’ home, and will return only in the evening. Who is John Abraham? enquired Jeevan.

The computer CPU started with a long beeping sound and the screen started showing Windows XP. You don’t know John Abraham? Nancy was in shock. Even kindergarten kids in her school knew about John Abraham.

Jeevan shook his head with an innocent face.

Bipasha Basu? Jism, the KISS? You don’t know?

Jism? Ya, the movie has nice music. I have heard a few of the songs, Jeevan replied.

Ya, music of course, but have you not heard about the kiss? John and Bipasha having a French kiss on screen? Haven’t you heard about it? Nancy tried to educate him on the latest trend.

French kiss? The one we see in English movies? Jeevan was not unfamiliar with French kisses; he loved Hollywood movies, and so did his schoolmates. But an Indian actor doing it onscreen surprised him.

Give me your password, Nancy said, looking at the computer.

That question sent a shock wave through his body. Password, how can I tell her my password?

Jeevan, tell me, quick! Aunty will come soon. Nancy was losing patience.

Jeevan was frozen. How could he say his password was ‘I LOVE NANCY’. How could he even type it in front of her?

Close your eyes! I will type it, Jeevan tried to avoid being embarrassed.

Oh, is that so secret that you can’t tell me? Am not gonna close my eyes! Nancy took a stubborn stand.

Mom will come soon, and if you wish to watch it before she comes, close your eyes! Jeevan didn’t mind sharing secrets with her, but not his password.

Nancy was quite unhappy; she could not tolerate being forced to back off and she always had her way; but in this case, she didn’t have a choice. She couldn’t take the CD to her home or to any of her other friends.

Jeevan was actually happy because Nancy had chosen him over her other friends to share such a secret act. He was on cloud nine for having won her trust and he felt special. He believed Nancy was in love with him though she had never told him so. He typed the password keeping one hand over Nancy’s eyes. She stood motionless, with a straightly irritated face, which Jeevan never saw.

P

The results of class ten were out. Jeevan was in Nancy’s room with his mom, Priya and Nancy’s mom, eagerly waiting to know how Nancy and Jeevan had performed. The Internet was very slow and took ages to load a page. Jeevan was very cool about the whole thing. He was not worried about his marks; he just wanted a pass while the rest of them in the room were nervous and their combined heart beats could be heard miles away. Jeevan looked at Nancy; her face was frozen and she shivered as her lips randomly chanted prayers.

An hour went by and the Internet explorer still couldn’t load the site.

Everyone will be trying to access the site; that’s why it’s not opening, declared Jeevan.

How much more time will it take? Jeevan’s mother enquired.

No idea; may take more time, Jeevan was quick to reply.

Ok, I am going. I have to cook lunch. Tell me the result when it comes, said Jeevan’s mother and Nancy’s mother concurred as both women got up to leave.

Jeevan looked at Priya. His sister knew of her brother’s crush towards Nancy, so after showing some hesitation, she also joined her mother to go home.

Come on, Nancy, be cool! There is no point in getting tense. The marks have already been put up. They won’t change.

You know what? I actually wrote my roll number wrong in my English answer paper, Nancy shared her worry with Jeevan.

You what? Wrote someone else’s number? Jeevan triggered the alarm.

Will that be a problem? Ya, I know it’s a big problem. Now I will fail in English and will lose a year. My parents will kill me! She started crying.

Hey, don’t worry. English was our first paper, na? So the invigilators would have been extra careful with the papers, and obviously they would have spotted the error when they collected the papers and they would have corrected it. So, no worries! One of my friends wrote a wrong number and the invigilator asked me to correct, as he was long gone when the invigilator spotted the mistake.

Nancy’s face brightened with what she heard. Are you sure?

Hundred per cent! I was the one who corrected his number, Jeevan knew it was a lie, but he didn’t want Nancy to panic and there was always a hope.

After a while, Nancy’s result got displayed on the monitor: 92% marks. Nancy hugged Jeevan with happiness. Jeevan was happy too. His love had scored a ninety plus score and now she had hugged him. How could he be happier than that?

She went downstairs, shouting the marks to her mother. Soon her mother and Jeevan’s mother, along with Priya, came to the room. Jeevan’s score card was slowly appearing on the screen. 88%! A distinction! Jeevan shouted loudly, I got a distinction! But the others

Reviews for Beyond Love Lines

[Nivil Thomas · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Loved it. Finished it in a go. And i guess we can expect a second part.