I saw him calm lying on a mat.A number of houseflies were busy zooming around his weak body.The grey hair and the wrinkled face did not only show signs of old age but also told another story. A story of courage and resilience across the muddy path of life.
Despite the tear dropping scene,Wangamati slowly awoke from the mat.I could hear knuckles of his old feeble bones cracking.He never growled in pain.Deep in silence He was.
After about ten minutes of silence, Wangamati pointed an old rusty cup.I understood the signal.Slowly with care,I handed it over to him.I could see how the water travelled across his veins down the neck.Gulp after gulp he took with his hands shaking as the cup slowly exhausted it’s content.
Soon a sharp stare was on Me.I slowly took the cup with nervousness.The time to hear his story had eventually come.As I took out my notebook.I could not figure out what to ask.All the interview skills were gone.I was in a dilemma.All my life as a journalist,I had never experienced such a touching tragic scene of humanity.
I think he read my mind in a soft voice he started his story.He was once a young man with a bright future.He used to work in the army as a Leutenant Colonel.Fate connected him to Sarah who was the love of his life.They lived for 3 yrs without a kid but when Sarah conceived, She died at the last point of delivery.
Sarah’s death came with direct deployment to the battle field.As a patriot the love of his country could not let him stay home for months to mourn his deceased wife.As depressed as He was, Wangamati took the risk to join fellow comrades in the forest.The battle was wirld and bloody.The enemy was about to be overpowered.
Just as they were celebrating their upcomming victory, a landmine exploded taking the life of his other comrades.Wangamati was the only one who survived.Imagine being in a forest with no food or transport walking not knowing what the next second holds for you.But against all this, the old man was brave enough to make it to the barracks.
He took time to inform his superiors on what transpired.No one listened,instead he was accussed of being careless as they vowed to make him pay for the lives of all junior officers lost.He was imprisoned in the army prison with torchure twice a day.This happened consistently for 15 years.
He schemed a plan to escape the facility and later landed into casual employment.For the sake of cover he lived a secreat life.He never married as He kept morning her Sarah every night.And for every wind,He felt the warmth of his long gone hubby.
Friends neglected him.Since he was an orphan, he spent time living a lonely life.A life confined within himself.Now He was old.All that he ever worked for was gone.Imagine falling from greatness and spending all the days of your life in shame?Oh! what a pity.
Despite the old age and the harsh experiences this man had undergone.He didn’t even think to take his life.For every pain and every sharp hunger pain He experienced, Wangamati lied down in great silence.Never in his life would he beg.He was a strong soul in a weak body.From mud we were made and Wangamati knew He would back six feet under soon.
He told me that he awaited that moment.Maybe in the land of spirits,He could unite with his Sarah again and kiss her tender lips as they celebrate their re-union.