The Soldier (“Sipahi”)

It is quite strenuous to walk alone in the hilly paths. On one such path, I had to walk for two or three days. But on the way I laid hold of a soldier, who made my journey a lot easier.

"Eay babu, where you going?" He asked me first, calling me from behind as if he knew me. I turned to look. A soldier in army uniform was approaching fast towards me with small strides. I had heard a lot about the cruelty of army soldiers, so in order to get rid of him I answered ´11am" and kept on ahead. But by then he had reached me.

"O-ho," he laughed and the gilt front tooth gleamed in the light—"There´s where I´m going too. We´re together for the whole day; isn´t that so, dai?" he said carelessly.

Black coat, army cap, khaki pants. The clip of a cheap fountain pen shone from the pocket of his black coat. He also had a Queen Anne watch around his wrist which could be seen as he raised his hand—he was given to raising his hands now and then while speaking. He had a huge red handkerchief around his neck.

"A soldier I am, but you—by God, if I´m not wrong you´re a student. Aren´t you?" I admitted this with a smile. "The thing is, how one´s like, what he does, I can tell by his clothes, the way he talks. Swear on your blood, I haven´t failed till today, at least in this matter. I can´t read or write— yes, Icansignat the time of drawing my pay and I can recite the Ramayana at least. What little I learned was at the barracks; but had I given myself to studying only, I would have ended up lean, thin and pale like you."

Now I began to enjoy his conversation. On the way, he spoke to everyone as though he knew them—"Where to?" People, in awe of his military figure, were unable to respond. If an elderly woman came by, he would address her as mother-in-law and ask after the well-being of her daughters—"How´s your youngest daughter? Do tell me please, my favourite sasu?"

He was not inquisitive about me. So busy giving accounts of his own life, what could he ask about me?
"I´m at Quetta garrison. I´ve been there for many days. I´ve a wife too, but here in these hills. She´s sick and useless, but despite that, two sons are already born. I haven´t been home for many days, don´t want to, either. My wife must have gone with someone else. Sons must have become ruffians too—however, my younger son was rather smart; I had great hope of educating him, but bother! My father didn´t send me to school but I´m fine. I´ve found a wife in Quetta itself. There should be something to keep you interested wherever you are."

It is good fun to listen to a soldier, he says everything openly, hiding nothing. What could he hide anyway? I asked like an earnest student, "But what is life in the´army like?"

"Ho-ho-ho…What a question! If s great fun, may I eat your flesh if I lie! We don´t have problems like yours. Enjoy yourselves—thaf s what our officer tells us. Took my leave from him to come here. There´s talk of a war shortly. That´s why I´ve come here to raise recruits. On my blood, I´ve already snared six of them. A soldier gets to wash his mouth out with milk, gets to use the heads of castrated goats as hearth-stones. It´s more to liberate them than to trap them. We need soldiers for our country," he said blowing away cigarette smoke—"Dying in war gets you straight to heaven." At this, his face became grave like a man rearing the Geeta.

This charming conversation was making the going easy. Just then up ahead some girls were returning from cutting grass. He winked at me, said, "Hold on a bit, I´m going to tease them." Approaching them he opened with a salute, then said something to them. At this remark, the rest of the girls walked off in a huff, but one of them threw her bundle of grass on the ground and, arms akimbo, began to hurl abuses at him, entire body shaking and teeth bared. My soldier friend started laughing holding his stomach and, turning to me, said, "She is a vixen. She must be as abusive to her husband every day. I can swear by anything."

We were proceeding ahead. "It´s very difficult to understand these girls. I, too, had once been ensnared by one, Ohh…" he said with a long sigh. At that time, he appeared hard like a stone statue, his legs moving mechanically. The yellow sun was descending beyond the hills ahead of us. I asked, full of curiosity, "Yes, the what happened?"

"Yes, I was coming to it I also loved a girl. I don´t know how I fell for her. I spent many days with her laughing and frolicking. One Sunday, I found out that I had begun to love her. I was on holiday that day. As soon as evening fell I went running to her." His breathing quickened. "That day she wore a blue gown…Damn, she was looking quite beautiful that day!" That very moment we had to do a steep ascent. "Wait on, I´ll buy two stalks of sugarcane. The climb´s begun. If s easier to walk using the sugarcane as staves. We can chew them at the top to lessen the fatigue. Don´t you like the idea?"

So saying he went off and came back with two stalks. Giving one to me, he resumed, "But that girl jilted me badly. Fancy, she went off with a captain. His fine clothes impressed her; but I assure you, she can´t live with that old captain either. This is how she enjoys to keep floating on, that pretty girl." A faint breath of air blew away his last words.

I was assessing him, so I did not say anything. He smiled a little seeing me quiet and said, "I can bet a bottle of raksi, you are thinking about your wife; isn´t that so? Look here, don´t lie, upon my word."
I did not answer at all. A little later, I asked, "Tell me soldier dai, how do you go to war? Bombs, bullets, death—I cannot even imagine the horror.

Laughing with disdain, he slapped my shoulder and said—"A place like that is not for delicate people like you. As for me, on your blood, I enjoy myself in a war."

Talking of such things we reached the place of our shelter. There was still two hours of daylight left, but as the sun was hidden behind the western hills darkness was falling rapidly. There was the rippling sound of a stream.

I said, "I can´t carry on now. Let´s find a place for the night." "Don´t worry about a place. I know every stone around here. My ancestors lived here. Come on, I´ll take you to a shop. I know the old woman of that shop. There was a time when many men circled round that old woman, my father was one of them. She used to have good sales, but now no one even so much as casts a blind eye on her. May I eat your flesh, I wouldn´t have gone there myself if it hadn´t been for her daughter."

As we were still talking we neared the shop. It was a wooden house, old and rotted by rain. The front was sagging, which forced the people to stoop while going in. We entered. Because the smoke was trapped inside the room the light of the small lamp had become even dimmer. And then again, my eyes having been ridden with sleep, that scene comes as a dream to me now. Inside were two men from the hills eating old and stale bread with tea. Sometimes while conversing they shouted, and slammed their hands on the table.

In the corner, I saw, a fire was burning, upon which stood a tea kettle—that was the source of the smoke. Nearby was a strange shelf-like almirah. All its panes were broken, and so the old tin box of Lily biscuits, the empty box of Cfrange Pekoe and two or three glasses could be seen. A fat woman, resting her elbows on the table, was in an absorbing way listening to the conversation between the two hillmen. At times she giggled and interjected a few words.

While entering that room the soldier was ahead with me trailing behind. Spying the soldier, she stood up at once and running a glance over him, said, "Achche! How did you stray in here?"

"Not straying. By the way, where´s your daughter?" He walked around the room flexing his arms as though he was the master of the room.

"My daughter´s gone out, she´s due any moment now. You seem to have forgotten us completely."
At this time a plump girl entered the room and said with indifference, "Let him forget, why should anyone remember us!"

She wore a dirty dhoti of chintz. The black streaks on her face could be seen even in that light. She had tied a dirty piece of cloth around her waist just above the dhoti. She was not particularly pretty, but she had the charm of youth.

As soon as he saw her the soldier rushed to her—"Ou, you´re not going to believe this but it´s you who drew me here. Who can forget you? The moment I came here I asked your mother about you. Thats when you came in. Say, what I should swear by?"

"Enough, enough, don´t talk too much. You talk a lot before my eyes but…" and she entered another small room. The soldier too ran after her. Once inside the young woman lit a small lamp and laid down on a mat spread there. The soldier squatted at the door and started talking.

"Okay, tell me, what have you brought for me?" I was feeling sleepy, and I did not listen to them. But even after everyone had eaten and gone to bed, they were still talking. The woman asked him to bring her a mirror with a native frame when he came again. The soldier said that he would not only bring the mirror but also a twenty-hand long phariya of chintz. I, tired, soon fell into a deep sleep.

In the small hours the soldier shook me awake. Two measures of the night still remained. It was desperately cold outside. A freezing wind blew from the gorge between two flanks of the mountain range. The stream gurgled nearby. Nobody was up as yet. The cocks were beginning to crow. The hill all around looked bleak and murky; no trees grew on these hills due to the severe climate of the region. I got up rubbing my eyes.

The soldier said carelessly, "My young master, I´ll take leave, I´ve got to go this way and you that"—and shook both my shoulders painfully with his strong hands. Sad thoughts came to my mind. I had begun to take a liking to him; but he could not care less for anyone. With long strides, he went on his way. I stood watching.

translation by Dorjee Tshering Lepcha