Ishq-e-Watan

Chapter 21- Mission Euphoria: The End

CHAPTER 21

MISSION EUPHORIA: THE END

"Aur dhyaan rakhna. Zyaada bewakoofi waale kaam mat karna."

Karan rolled his eyes. "Haan, Bhaiya. Dhyaan rakhunga."

"Achha, aur-"

"Bhaiya... relax. Pehla mission nahi hai mera. Aur sirf ek raid hi toh hai. Jaayenge, maarenge, aur waapas aa jaayenge. Completely in our control."

Param sighed a little. "Pata hai mujhe. Par jaise hi raid khatam hogi, tu sabse pehle mujhe call karke yeh bataayega ki tu theek hai."

"Aapka bas chale toh aap mujhe har ghante call karoge yeh puchhne ke liye ki main abhi bhi zinda hoon ya nahi."

"Bas... dhyaan rakhna, Karan."

"Haan. Bhabhi aur Baby kahan hai?"

"Baby ko ice cream khaani thi, toh Barkha use paas waali shop tak lekar gayi hai."

He sat down on the bed, grabbing his socks. He balanced the phone between his cheek and shoulder, as he pulled them on. "Unhe pata hai kya ki main raid lead kar raha hoon?"

"Nahi. Jab ho jaayegi, toh bata dunga. Barkha bekaar mein chinta karegi."

He hummed, grabbing his boots. "Bhaiya, main baad mein call karta hoon. Taiyaar hona hai, aur last minute cheezen ek baar check karni hai."

"Theek hai. Aur sun, call nahi, toh kam se kam ek message toh bhej hi dena."

"Haan, Bhaiya. Call hi kar lunga. Bye." He let the phone slip down, falling on the bed, as he laced his boots up. "Kya kya karna hai?" He muttered to himself. "Faizi se baat karni hai, Sanju se baat karni hai. Raghav aur Tanya se bhi ek baar confirm karna hai. Plan revise karna hai. Euphoria ke andar kya chal raha hai, ek baar woh update leni hai. Aur kuchh?"

A knock made him look up. Mrs. Batra.

Karan stood up. She smiled at him, walking in. She lightly fixed his t-shirt, brushing away the invisible specks of dust. "Tu itne saalon mein itne missions kar chuka hai", she said, "phir bhi jab bhi jaata hai, alag sa garv mehsoos hota hai mujhe." She brushed his black locks from his forehead. She caressed his face softly, smiling. "Jaa, mere sher. Shikaar karke aa." He chuckled slightly.

'Jab main badha hunga, toh main bhi soldier banuga', a 5 year old Karan declared, swinging his legs as he sat over the counter.

'Haan, mere sher', Mrs. Batra said, smiling at him. She held out the spoon in front of his mouth. 'Chal, muh khol.'

'Nahi, sher nahi, ma'am', he protested. 'Soldier!'

'Sher aur soldier mein zyaada farak nahi hota. Jaise solider mission par jaata hai, waise hi sher shikaar par jaata hai. Jaise sher jab aata hai, toh sab bhaag jaate hain, waise hi jab tu jaayega, na, toh saare terrorists tujhse darkar bhaag jaayenge.'

'Jab main shikaar karne jaunga?' He laughed at the thought.

She laughed slightly. 'Haan, mere sher. Jab tu shikaar karne jaayega, unn terrorists ka. Ab chal, jaldi se muh khol. Sher ko bhook lagi hai, na?' He opened his mouth, and Mrs. Batra fed him the bite.

'Chhote!' A 16 year old Param said, crossing his arms. 'Apna khaana khud khaa sakta hai, na, tu? Tang mat kar ma'am ko. Khud khaa.'

'Nahi', he protested.

'Idhar aa. Main khilaata hoon. Ma'am ko aur bhi kaam hain.'

He scowled. 'Nahi.' He looked at Mrs. Batra. 'Please, ma'am? Khilaa do, na?'