The Protectors

NOTE: All incidents mentioned are purely fictional. Any similarity with real occurrences is purely coincidental.

“Ali Bhai…You are not permitted to be so greedy. Pass me the flask too. My insides are lusting for the warmth and fragrance of tea.”-Laughed Lt. Mohan Vir Singh.

Major Ali Abdul Gaffar pretended to grimace, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and passed on the warm flask to his colleague.

It was a cold January night in Pir Kanjari, a village scantily populated with about 1000 people and situated in the Tarn Taran district- the Line of Control cutting right through it-of Punjab. The army jawans were on their usual patrolling duty in the village, which now appeared like a ghost town. People here slept early, owing to their having to rise early in order to cultivate fields which were mostly located across the LOC in the Pakistani territory, thereby permitting them only limited time for farming their own lands according to the Indian Army directives.

The Army had gathered around a campfire, deciding to pass away yet another night of vigilance in mirth. An explosion rent the air suddenly. An explosive had been thrown right amidst the patrollers from across the fence, demarcating the LOC. The party of jolly soldiers was reduced to a mass of corpses in no time at all. Pir Kanjari, though always considered to have been located in a Red-Alert Zone, was witnessing a large scale massacre for the first time.

The funeral for the brave hearts, them having lost their lives while protecting the village, was carried out in Pir Kanjari following which, preparations were made for sending off the coffins carrying their bodies to their respective native places for the last rites. However, a curious predicament was faced at the time this arrangement was being carried out. None of the coffins would fit the vehicles- surface or air-that were meant to convey them to their designated places, no matter how hard anyone tried. It was thus decided that all the soldiers would receive a burial in the Pir Kanjari graveyard itself.

However, the residents of the village were now in for stranger an occurrence which could not have any rational explanation. Gurdas Singh, a farmer, along with a few other fellow farmers was on his way home after a day in the fields, when deafening gunshots rang around all of a sudden. The men stared around wildly. The shots appeared to have been fired from somewhere very close. Yet no army personnel could be spotted close by, which was natural as they were mostly positioned near the fence, which was around 2 kilometers away from the fields where the farmers stood at the moment. The men, being of a superstitious nature, paced up quicker on the home bound path.

Next morning, when Gurdas Singh and the others went to the fields to begin their day, they were shocked to the core. 4 Masked men lay dead hidden among tall wheat corns. Upon being alarmed, army troops rushed in for checking the bodies of the infiltrators. Explosives and other killing weapons were found with them. But the most surprising fact was the precision with which all the 4 militants had been shot through the centres of their foreheads, a perfect bull’s eye shot.

Pir Kanjari has never lost a life till this day due to insurgency. It is believed that its super natural protectors are ever vigilant towards the residents’ safety, bent on finishing the duty which remained unfinished when they were alive.