the overwhelmingly unbearable weight of country

“First comes country. Your first love, your first duty, should always be country. There is nothing greater than country.”

“Yes sir.”

When I was a kid, I used to be confused when he said that. Over the years, I began to understand why he said what he said. And now I believe in it. Country is always first.

Khoon mein teray mitti 

Mitti Mein tera khoon

Upar allah neechay dhartee

Beech mein tera junoon 

Your blood is in the soil. Your blood should be in the soil.

As a child, I’d be confused. Now when he says it, I say yes sir and feel my heart soar as those words ring through it. Duty to country comes first.

My land is my first mother, and to this day? She nurses me in the bosom of her soil. Gives me safety, and security.

Today I will be joining a long line of the men and some women of my family. I will be joining the armed forces. I will surprise my father. He will be happy.

***

It is evening. He is back home. The uniform is still on him. Starched. Clean. Flawless. As always. He is sitting down to eat. Then all of us sit down. I clear my throat. My heart is racing. “I’ve joined the army, sir.” He puts down his utensils. Silence. He looks at me. And smiles. I almost gasp. My heart overflows with joy.

“Good job, beta. I am proud of you. This is what I’ve raised you for.” He picks up his utensils and begins to eat.

***

I have progressed through many levels. Now I am at the rank where he used to be when I made the announcement. There are only two higher. He is up on the next one.

***

I always lead my troops into battle. A leader should inspire, not sit by the sidelines and watch his men fall like pieces on a chessboard. There might be a time for that too, but inspiration, and leadership are key.

***

The war broke out suddenly. We grabbed out uniforms and led our troops to battle. I am on the field. I wonder what he will think. What he will say. I know what is going to happen. To me. I have been wounded. Try as they might, they would not be able to get me back in time. And I wouldn’t have wanted them to. I might die. But my soldiers will win this. Because of my death. I have passed on my instructions. But most of all, I wonder what he will say. I gasp my last breath, blood spurting out from my throat, squeaking through the wound in my chest. I close my eyes.

***

I am looking down. They have told him. His face remains stolid. 

Now it is the funeral. The twenty one gun salute. They fold the flag. And they hand it to him. This man who has spent his life extolling the virtues of one’s country, I can hear his thoughts. Why mine. They hand it to him. He buckles under the weight.