The Indian Soldier: A Story of Faith

By Sushant Saini

Arjun is a young boy who dreams of becoming a soldier. But his unexpected selection into IIT throws him in a mix. Soon, his supportive family comes to his rescue and helps him pursue his dream.
During his time at the National Defence Academy, he builds life-long friendships with three other trainees. Soon he is given a chance to join the most covert and lethal team in the Indian Army, Team-A.
He dedicates his life to the country and carries out life-threatening missions on numerous occasions. But one deadly terrorist attack forces Arjun to question all that he has learned and loved. Disillusioned by the actions of his fellow countrymen, Arjun decides to leave his homeland.
Before he can pack up his bags and say goodbye, an airplane carrying over 200 passengers is hijacked by an unnamed group. And he is the only one who can save them. But can an embittered Arjun bring himself to risk his life, and those of his team, one more time?

• Language: English
• Publisher: One Point Six Technologies Pvt Ltd
• Release date: Aug 26, 2019
• ISBN: 9789352011087

Sushant Saini

Sushant Saini is a software professional by day and an avid writer by night. He completed his schooling at Ryan International School, Noida. After that, he received his B. Tech degree from M. M. M Engineering College, Gorakhpur. After staying in Mumbai for three years, he moved to the USA.He has been living in Virginia for the last decade with his beautiful wife, Rashmi, and adorable twin girls, Maya and Meera. He loves spending time with family and friends. He loves traveling, New York, and Mumbai, being his favorite cities. Sushant also enjoys drinking, cricket, soccer, driving. Along with family, his friends are a very important part of his life. He plans to never stop writing.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Where for the Drinks

I had snoozed the alarm three times already. I was not sleeping, but I was too lazy to get up. 7 am. That meant Mom would be in my room any minute.

Mom’s entrances were always reminiscent of war scenes from old movies. I could already imagine her donned in a combat uniform with a thick matching helmet, holding a bayonet, pointing forward. Her face flushed with anger and mouth wide open, shouting at the top of her lungs, and pushing everything out of her way.

I heard her characteristic screams and swears even before she entered my room. Shouting was her strategy to instil fear before making any eye contact. Oh my God! Why me?, Arjun, you are a good-for-nothing son!, I wish I hadn’t tried for a second kid, and so on and so forth.

Any sane human being would get depressed after being subjected to such tirades. But not us – not the kids. We’ve become resistant to these insults like bacteria grow resistant to antibiotics over time.

Her daily routine consisted of her standing next to my bed for exactly two minutes with a warning, I will be back in five minutes. You should be up by then. She would repeat this process three times and, if unsuccessful, resort to her final weapon.

She stood, now, beside me, her three rounds over and her anger replaced with an unnerving smile. She knew that her next trick never failed. It was her go-to move when she had had enough of me and my brother. With a smug smile, she uttered the words that were music to her ears but a scary tune to children across the world.

Dad is coming to wake you up, she said and left the room, calm and relaxed, having outsourced her troubles to another very angry species – the Father.

All this while, Dad had been listening and carefully observing the entire episode. He was like an NFC fighter gearing up for a match, as he carefully watched every single move (or lack thereof) of his opponent, getting angrier with every passing second, and mentally praying that I won't get up, even after Mom's final warning; just so he could use this as an excuse to blast me for everything he had been storing in his memory since his last verbal assault. All the late-night parties, girls, hours spent on the phone, complaints from school, everything.

There was only one way to avoid the next world war. My eyes opened wide as a plethora of renewed energy coursed through my once dead body. I was determined to avoid this one-way argument where my hands and tongue were tied. From my experience, it was always a good idea to avoid any face-to-face encounters with Dads in situations like this one because sometimes this bomb could explode without any trigger or warning.

Getting out of bed was a daunting task. After all, kids had to deal with so much. School in the morning, tuitions in the afternoon, cricket in the evening, and TV at night. In this busy schedule, we also needed to find some time for updating our Facebook status, reading, and sharing the latest jokes on phone. Trying to sleep on time while juggling so many responsibilities was next to impossible. But once I was out of bed, I usually did much better.

The fact that I had snoozed the alarm three times, and more importantly, ignored Mom three times, had not gone well with you-know-who. She did not want this opportunity to be wasted. A long lecture, little bit of scolding, and some warnings from Dad would be nice.

It looked like she had decided to give it a try.

At least today, you could have woken up by yourself on time, said Mom, failing miserably at acting disappointed. She eyed Dad, hoping that this would be the golden strike. She looked like a magician, poised but tensed as she performed her next trick, hoping to fool the audience and get the desired reaction...

And the trick worked. Dad put down his newspaper and gave me a serious glance. He moved forward in his chair, getting ready to engage me in what would be a long, boring, and insult infused lecture.

Mom abandoned her household chores and grabbed a chair. She sat down hastily, with popcorn in one hand, and tea in the other, as she prepared herself for what could be a very entertaining and soul-satisfying session for her.

The most painful thing about these lectures was that they were always followed by statements like, Believe me, this insult is very important for your own betterment and Although we destroy your self-respect on a regular basis, we are sure you will become a confident man one day.

As I tried to feign innocence, Dad paused, leaned back into his chair and continued to read the newspaper. This was unexpected. In my 18 years of existence on this planet, this was the first such occasion where Dad, had decided to let it go. It looked like a thought had crossed his mind, and he had decided, Today is not the day.

I might have had a hunch why he spared my dignity. It might have had something to do with the fact that IIT results would be out that day. The event that Mom had wanted to use to instigate Dad had, instead, calmed him down.

There could be two reasons for this: One, somewhere deep down, Dad still believed that I could crack the exam. (After my recent performances, I found that hard to believe.); or two, and more realistically, Dad decided to wait for me to flunk and then humiliate me all at once. "Why waste my energy twice," he might have thought.

Relieved would be an understatement to how I felt at that Moment. It felt like I had narrowly missed a bullet.

My confidence was slowly coming back. I looked at Mom, my eyes challenging her, Bring it on, Devil. Let's see what else you’ve got. Mom's expressions changed from a 5-year-old-watching-Disney to 25-year-old-in-jail in a matter of seconds.

I did sense that both Mom and Dad were not behaving their usual selves. For parents, your kid getting into IIT was like winning the WWE Royal Rumble. It was the ultimate validation of their dedication towards their kids. Even if all they did was let their children watch TV and use the laptop as much as they wanted. Even if they made their child promise not to disturb them while they were out drinking with their friends, and complaining what a supreme sacrifice they’ve made by raising kids.

The single malt whiskey from Scotland, that expensive handbag from Luis Vuitton, a bachelor trip to Vegas, empty roads in Bangalore, winning the lottery, the neighbour's beautiful spouse smiling at you — none of these could even compare to the glory of your child getting into IIT.

As a kid, growing up, you get a sense of your capabilities pretty soon. Believe me, most of the kids already knew that they wouldn’t crack the exam. But, since they did not want to dishearten their parents, they let time run its course. I was one of them.

I didn't understand most of the problems, let alone solve them. I did try to do my best, but most of the time it did not lead me anywhere. It was about to be over soon. Once my parents would see my results, the torturous IIT chapter would be behind us for forever. Maybe, there would be discussions about trying again, but my plans were different.

It was time to pick up my bike and head out. I heard there was a lot of anxiety and excitement among IIT aspirants. Social media was abuzz with all sorts of news – many of them turning out to be false.

Only two of us from my school gang had been able to clear the preliminary exam, and that too with very low ranks. When you were the best student within your circle of friends, life became much easier. You were the star kid, the prodigy in the eyes of their parents. You set the gold standard against whom everyone else was judged. You waited for PTA meetings while your friends dreaded it.

Only you knew the reality – it wasn’t that you were very good, but that your buddies were worse. You compared yourself to bright students from good schools, and boy, did you fail miserably. Secretly, you thanked God, that you failed the admission test for those schools.

I was supposed to meet my friend Arnav in front of the cyber cafe. We had decided to see our results together. It was 2010 and everyone could access the internet on their phones, but Arnav had chosen to go the old-fashioned route. He held the superstition that this cafe could help us get through.

I was very excited for him. He was one of those students who had their life figured out from the age of five. Every day, he would tell us the different things we could do with our lives. Things we had no clue about.

Going abroad, pursuing higher studies, and establishing a start-up company were some of the things he mentioned. He had spent the last four years in preparation for the exam, attending even a renowned institute. We couldn’t even begin to solve some of the IIT questions he had asked us.

I was sitting on my bike, waiting for him when I saw him walking towards me. Arnav had this jump in his walk – a jump of exuberance. As if every step he made was one step closer to the ultimate goal of life. Compared to that, the walk of the rest of our gang was like a walk of confusion. The walk of wandering. The walk of, What the hell!

All set. Mr. Sharma? Arnav asked playfully.

Yup, I replied with a smile on my face.

If we both make it, we should go to the same IIT. It would be so much fun that way.

Yeah, sure. I think Delhi is a good option. That way, we can catch up with rest of gang whenever we want.

Dude. I am talking about IIT, and you are talking about our loser friends, he said with a big smile.

Well, only losers like them would hang out with losers like us, I was quick to counter.

Well, you do have a point there, he said, with an approving smile.

Nervous? I asked him after a moment.

Yes, a lot. I have put four long years preparing for this.

Four years. What's wrong with you man? I teased him.

You? he questioned.

Well, I’m just trying to figure out how to act in front of my parents. I think a good crying could make things much easier. They’d forget all their disappointment and try to console me. How do I make myself cry? Can you slap me real hard before I enter my house?

Yes sure, how about a kick in your nuts, he suggested with an impish smile.

There was a long queue in front of the cafe. It looked like we were not the only ones with this superstition. It was believed that this cafe produced most IIT-ians in Noida and hence the crowd.

We need to get into the queue fast, he said, with child-like excitement.

I was in no hurry but sensing his impatience, I decided to get in line. It was fun observing the different kinds of characters on a big day like today, especially, when you didn’t have any skin in the game.

There were the nervous ones, who acted like life would come to a stop if they did not make it. They were usually accompanied by at least five relatives other than their parents. They spent most of their time looking into the sky as if trying to call the Almighty to resolve their problems. Their parents looked more nervous than the kids themselves.

And then, there were the smarty-pants, who were very sure that they would get through, regardless of whether they actually got through or not. The ones who failed, would doubt the intelligence of the examiner or blame it on the education system itself, and begin devising ways to ‘reform’ it. Reform it such that smart kids like them got through. They usually came alone, looked super confident and showed no signs of nervousness at all.

There were also those who were terrified of failing but pretended to be cool. The ones who tried to put up a fake smile as they checked their watches every five minutes, wishing for it to be over as soon as possible, one way or another.

And of course, there was rest of us. The ones in the majority, sincerely waiting for this whole ordeal to be over soon so that we could put our parents’ expectations behind them and move on with our lives. We were easy to spot. We behaved exactly how we did on any other day. Cool, calm, enjoying each other's company.

We were more interested in where we were going after this; to gulp down our sadness with the help of beer or whatever floated our boat. All the while, carefully planning the right amount of pretended grief that might earn us a generous gift from our parents. They might even allow us a night out that extended beyond the usual 10 pm curfew.

Suddenly, there was commotion around us. It looked like the results were out. People were trying to move forward even when there was no space in front of them. The Cafe owner came out every 15 minutes, shouted at students to get in line and then went back in. He behaved as if the decision of who got into IIT and who didn’t rested on him rather than the results.

Students who had entered before us started to come out. There was not a single smiling face. It looked like the charm of the cyber cafe was not working that year. There were no joyous exclamations, no celebrations, no celebratory dances, and no parents with happy tears in their eyes.

Not a single student till now. What is going on? Arnav asked, concern in his voice.

I have absolutely no idea. How much time do you think it will take for us to see your result, and get out of here? I replied casually.

He was dumbfounded. What you do mean by ‘your’ result?

I know mine, I said, with a grin on my face.

This could be the biggest day of our lives, and you want to hurry?

Well, it could be the biggest day of your life, my friend. For me, it's Independence Day.

Looking at the speed of the line. I think another 45 minutes until we’re in, he tried to guess.

Arnav returned to his thoughts. Looked like he was busy planning his next move. He was probably thinking that as soon as he got into IIT, maybe he’d venture a start-up in the first semester itself, drop out once it was successful and become very famous or something along those lines.

As the line proceeded, he was getting more nervous. I could feel the tension in the air around him. His hands, his eyes, and his body language, everything emanated anxiety.

Making fun of my friends was my specialty, something I learned from my grandma. I was known to bring out the best in other's misery. I knew how to make someone's pain an object of amusement, and I was in no mood to let this opportunity slip.

So where are we going for drinks after this? I said, looking in a different direction.

I don't know man, he replied in an irritated tone.

What about dinner? I was not going to let it go so easily.

By then, he had had enough of me.

"Arjun, are you serious right now? I cannot think anything beyond this result. My life depends on what happens here. I mean, there are so many things that are dependent on me making it into IIT. My whole family is sitting next to the phone waiting to hear three words, ‘I made it,’ and you’re joking?" His voice contained a mix of anger, nervousness, and anxiety, all at the same time.

I sensed that it was the right time to back off. I was at the point where one was not sure how their friend was going to take jokes anymore – whether they’d stop talking to you, or hit you on the head with a sharp metal object. So I decided that staying quiet would be the best thing to do. At least, till we finished this results business.

Finally, we were in front of a computer. Arnav tried to type in his roll number, but his hands were shaking. After a couple of attempts, he asked me to do it. I happily obliged. I typed in his roll number and pressed enter. It took a couple of seconds, and the result flashed on the screen. I could not believe my eyes, nor could Arnav. He did not make it.

Arnav sat down on the chair, and for the first time, I realized how much it meant to him. I put my hand on his shoulder and tried to console him. It took him a couple of minutes to come to terms with reality. He printed his result.

Dude, you need to take a printout of your result too, Arnav suggested.

I agreed. Arnav keyed in my roll number. It took a couple of seconds and there it was. We were silent.

After what felt like eternity, Arnav looked at me and broke into a grin. Where for the drinks? You made it to IIT, my friend.

CHAPTER TWO

Laugh or Cry

You got in! Arnav yelled. He jumped so high as if some nasty insect had bitten him on his bum.

Arnav celebrated as if he had made it and not me. His eyes were full of excitement and dreams. That was the thing about youngsters that I adored so much. There was an absolute purity of the heart and unconditional love for everyone around. Completely oblivious to jealousy, greed and the rat race – things that become second nature by the time we ‘mature’.

The last thirty seconds had struck me stronger than a 1000 volts' electric shock. I couldn't move, or open my mouth, or think, or process. I turned my focus towards the monitor and there it was. Son of a gun, Arnav was right! I could see my rank right there. The biggest problem was, I was not sure what to do next. Should I do a crazy I-don't-know-how-to-react dance or call my parents? Maybe messaging my friends would be a good idea. But before I did that, I needed to make sure that this was really happening.

I asked Arnav to key in my roll number one more time. He looked at me as I was crazy, but I was not backing down. I wanted to see it again. I wanted to make sure that we did not enter the wrong roll number and the website did not have a crazy bug that switches the results. Arnav obliged and keyed in the roll number once again. The screen refreshed, and there it was – the same result. I took my own sweet time to verify all of the details and everything seemed to be fine. I had slowly started accepting the fact that I might have cracked the IIT exam.

I was about to yell at Arnav and warn him not to tell anyone until I was hundred percent sure, but I guess it was too late. His jumps into the air and loud exclamations had already attracted enough attention. As I turned around, 4-5 boys were trying to figure out what had happened. But before I could downplay the event and tell them to go away, Arnav spoke.

He is going to IIT, he said, with both his hands in the air, bowing down as if in front of a celebrity.

Before I could tell him to stop, other boys joined him. All of them with their hands in the air and forming a wave together. My urge to tell them to knock it off faded away and for some reason, I was suddenly okay with these guys bowing before me. In fact, I was feeling good about it. In my head, I was transforming from an average guy to an I-am-the-Man guy. The boy who was busy doing his own thing while the world had their eyes glued to him. At first, he would be snubbed by the most beautiful girl in town. But later she would leave her wealthy fiancée at the altar and rush into his arms. The hero of the movie. A man who is smart and a good human being at the same time. A legend whom people would talk about for a long time after he was gone.

My body language had suddenly changed. It was now in-sync with my brain. I had more cockiness in my walk than all the rappers in Bollywood put together. I didn’t think any drug in the world could make me feel as high as I felt at that moment. I was enjoying my new-found avatar, my new personality.

The disheartened crowd outside the cafe was busy discussing what went wrong. But Arnav interrupted them as he raised his voice.

We have a future IIT-ian amongst us, he proclaimed, as if he were announcing the arrival of a king. Suddenly, everybody stopped, turned around and started clapping. For the first time in my life, I experienced fame. All of my anger towards famous arrogant actors evaporated. I now knew how they felt. It was a very empowering experience; one which screwed up your brain badly; one which made you feel invincible.

I was the only one at the cyber cafe who had made it. The owner was somewhat relieved. His reputation of being the lucky mascot for IIT aspirants had been at stake. Many had looked at him, with questioning eyes, as if it was his fault that they did not make it.

As Arnav approached him to pay, he refused. It's free for the ones who clear it, he said, his face gleaming with pride.

We started walking out of the cafe towards my bike, and boy was it a glorious walk. It felt like I was wearing the coolest black sunglasses, the ones that make celebrities look uber cool. Which was funny because I was not wearing any. As soon as I realized that my hands were in the air, waving towards the crowd, I pulled them down, forcefully, against their will.

As we moved forward, I passed by several curious faces; faces that had decided to take a minute out of their miserable lives and witness a future celebrity. There were good looking girls, the type who would have otherwise never paid attention to me. They were smiling at me as if I was the one they had been waiting for all their life. As if the objective of their life was not to clear the exams, but to find me instead. Looking at how carefree they were, I was unsure whether they had even applied for IIT. Wait, had they come here hunting for IIT boys?

And of course, there were the smarty-pants who wondered, ‘Really, this guy? I don't think he has what it takes to be an IIT-ian. Is he lying to get some attention? Let's check his rank. Is there a problem in how the IIT selects their candidates? I mean, I didn’t get selected, but he did. Really, this guy?’

And then there were my kind, or what used to be my kind. Kids who were just relieved that it