Saraswathi Rajamani

"Mani, always remember there is no another chance…" a nearly sixteen year old boy, with no signs of mustache nodded. "… either you succeed or die." 

"Yes, sir" Mani shouted in a shrill voice. 

The instructor, an officer of Pakistani intelligence sighed heavily. Mani was young for the burden he carried. Innocence reflected in his eyes. But he is most suitable, a boy with wits and strength, who could easily disguise as kashmiri youth. 

Instructor looked at the boy and smiled. A boy who was chosen to die at sixteen. 

"Tomorrow at 3 AM, you would be near India-Pakistan border. As a protocol by Indian army, at 3:10 AM there would be continuous firing at our side. To unconceal any trespasser. But after days of visits, failed attempts and supervision, we have found a blind spot. The Indian soldiers never shoot in that range of land." 

Instructor paused for a moment, what if they did on that day? He looked at Mani.

Main was beaming with a sense of duty. 

"One of our lead will show you the blind spot. Till the firing proceed, you should enter on enemy's border, anyhow." 

Mani and instructor both drew scenes of the event. Though a little different. 

"Between 3:30 to 4 AM you have to plant the bomb.…" The instructor gulped. He lost the words that he had thought.

"... and die?" Mani grinned.

"No…. martyr, my jawan." Instructor boasted. 

Mani glared confidently in instructor's eyes. They reflected pride for his nation. 

"Pakistan, zindabad" Mani shouted in high-pitched voice. 

"Pakistan,… zindabad" instructor uttered slowly.

***

Mr. Yang Li, an officer from China was seated formally in uniform, his left hand on the handle of chair and other reading an official document. His army batches spoke of his position. 

The instructor, offered a hand shake. 

"Sir, everything is ready. The boy is intelligent and would carry the operation anyhow." 

"Hmm… what is the name of this operation?" Mr. Yang Li spoke in an atypical accent.

"Operation Camoflage, sir." 

Mr. Yang Li smiled. 

A boy dangling a tray with two goblet glasses, ice cube bowl and a whisky bottle entered. His hairs were well trimmed and complexion dark. His musculature was drawn to skeleton, with remenents of scars. 

Mr. Yang Li guffawed. "Haa… You Pakistanis are only good in torturing bloody Indians." His eyes drawn resin-sized. 

While the instructor beamed amiably. 

"Did you get that girl Pakistani?" Mr. Yang Li barked at instructor. 

"On your orders, sir." 

The instructor went out and mumbled something to an officer on corridor. After a moment a girl was brought in burkha. 

"Hmm… Is she virgin?" Mr. Yang Li's turned colour. His eyes that of a predator. 

The burkha girl was made to sit on a chair opposite to Mr. Yang Li. Her movements delayed and nervous. 

Mr. Yang Li streched his legs and placed them on burkha girl's lap, his training boots touching her breast. He pressed them viciously. 

"What is your name?" Mr. Yang Li asked. Directing the instructor to leave. The instructor with his head bowed and cursing his position proceeded. Another Pakistani girl would be raped.

"And Pakistani… close the door." 

The instructor did it gently. 

The burkha girl looked at the Indian boy who had squeezed himself in the corner of room. 

"He is just a servant, my love" Mr. Yang Li grinned, caressing the burkha girl's breast. 

Mr. Yang Li's fingers made there way through the gap between the veil and breastcover of Burkha. His eyes glaring the netted eyes of girl. He tried to gasp the girl's tender neck, but the girl threw Mr. Yank Li's legs, forcing a handkerchief in his mouth before a commotion could set in. Mr. Yang Li slid down the chair with legs in air. The aromas from handkerchief causing unconsciousness.

The Indian prisoner rose from his accustomed place. The burkha girl started doffing burkha in a haste. 

"We have no time. Wear this burkha. I am Saraswathi, from Indian Intelligence, RAW Agent, better known as Rajamani, and I have to rescue you." The burkha girl spoke hastily.

The Indian boy nodded, awestruck.

***

"Srikhandi, a warrior in disguise. A woman who had a mission to kill Pitamaha Bhishma. The woman who burned for her purpose. And sir do you know what was amazing about her?" A man with straight dark hairs, with solid black spectacles questioned. 

"No, I don't" zapped a stout, old man, shrugging his shoulders. 

"When she stepped out for Kurukshetra war she transformed into a man." 

"So, what do you mean?" Asked the old man.

"Initially it was difficult to rescue our undercover agent Vinod from Pakistan. But at the same time it was important. He had gathered a lot of informationfrom Pakistani intelligence." 

The old man glared. His astonishment questioned, 'Is he alive?'.

"There was no way but to send someone for operation. At that time came Saraswathi Rajamani. An able, witty, strong girl. She was fifteen I suppose. And it was magic. Even now I call it miracle. We transformed him to a boy." 

The old man's jaw dropped. 

"It required three long days of surgery, breast reduction therapy and some steroids. And sir what was needed the most, what do you think?" 

"Determination…" The old man was pleased by the girl's valour. 

"She slipped into the Pakistani intelligence after about an year of failed attempts. Despite all odds she continued her efforts and finally rescued agent Vinod." 

"Can I meet Madam Saraswathi." The old man addressed with respect. 

"Sir…, sorry but she is under a crucial transformation surgery." 

"Hmm…" The old man's heart shrank. But the patriotism he heard had impacted him. His heart was filled with enthusiasm. He closed his eyes and saluted "JAI HIND" to the Saraswathi's image he had formed. 

***

Source: 

Saraswathi Rajamani was a veteran of the Indian National Army (INA). She is well known for her work in the military intelligence wing of the army.

She is credited to be the First Indian Female Spy.

Rajamani and some of her female colleagues masqueraded as boys and gathered intelligence. While posing as a boy, her name was Mani.