Murmur of the Lonely Brook by Debashis Dey

Diwakar since childhood. His motive to join the army was more than the uniform or the valor; it was these peaks. He knew there were outposts on top that overlooked the border. He had dreamed many times of riding a horse in full uniform from one post to the other across snow-covered peaks. For one full month, he prepared for the exams. Every morning he ran five kilometers and measured his time. He was well within the limit. His only worry was his chest, which fell an inch short. But Devta was on his side. During the physical check, he held his breath and closed his eyes, remembering him. His chest expanded by two full inches and he passed. The only barrier was the written exam.
    ***
    “Diwa, we have arrived,” shouted Deepak, who was a bit ahead.
    Deepak was almost the same age as Diwakar. He had left school after standard nine and was now doing housework. Earlier he had run away to Simla and, after working as a porter in the station for a few months, had come back. His brother Mohan was standing with him and waving. Shivam, the youngest one, was midway. All four climbed down through the boulders and bushes and reached the riverbank. Wild roses, thistles, and a few cactuses lined the banks, as did a few pines that grew from cones that had rolled down the peaks or been carried by the river. The valley was wide here and the river shallow. It was beneath these rocks where the trout waited patiently for food that came with the river.
    Everyone except Shivam rolled up his sleeves. Shivam was a trainee and had joined them for the fun of it. Diwakar hopped across the rocks until he reached the middle of the stream. The sun shown through the clear water and reached the sands below, creating patterns where the water was still. He positioned himself on a rock and dipped his hands in from both sides of the rock. Immediately he felt the pain. The ice-cold water sent shockwaves through his body; his face turned red. It took a few seconds and then with firm determination, he dipped them in farther until he reached the bottom. His hands moved inward from both sides of the rock but there was nothing there. If there were a fish, he would have felt it instantly. Not every rock sheltered a fish. He checked once again and then removed his hands. Others were on the job too and one by one they checked all the possible rocks. No luck. The team moved farther upstream and started exploring again. And then Deepak shouted, “I think I have one here!”
    Everyone looked at him in anticipation. He was on a big rock and was slowly feeling with his hands. And then he took out the fish, a medium-sized trout still wriggling in his tight grip.
    “Great catch baya (brother)!” said Diwakar.
    Deepak crossed to the riverbank and smacked the fish hard against a rock.
    “Shivam, put it in the bag,” he said and went back to work.
    Another hour passed and four more trout were caught. Meanwhile, the team moved farther ahead and was close to Mastarang, where the army maintained a small outpost. Mastarang provided abundant boulders to contractors and green pastures for the cattle. It had a dense pine forest that was also the home for leopards. Dogs guarded the herd of cows and sheep while wide metal collars protected the dogs from surprise attacks by the leopards.
    Three more fish were caught and Deepak said, “I think that will be all for today. My hands are numb and I can’t feel anything.”
    “Yes,” Diwakar said, “enough for today!”
    All of them sat on rocks and placed their hands inside their shirts and jackets. It took quite some time before sensation returned. Shivam gathered branches to build a fire. They huddled together and put their hands as close as possible to the fire. Diwakar first handed out the peanuts and apples and then roasted the fish one by one, keeping two aside. Everything tasted good and all of them were content. They stretched out on the rocks and soaked up the sun.
    Nisha was drying the peas in the afternoon sun when Diwakar