Her home too was blessed with harmony, and she received love in abundance from everyone. However, for unknown reasons, Bibi couldn’t conceive again, yet no one in Virk’s family ever made that an issue. But deep within, her heart yearned to meet her sons. She tried her best but couldn’t erase their memory from her mind. This often made her sad and restless. She had no way of finding out if they were okay. As a result, she spent a few hours each morning praying for their welfare. Virk was aware of her pain but was helpless. Despite his best efforts, he could not get any information on them.

* * *

With the passage of time, Bibi became more and more spiritual and spent many hours each morning in meditation. She had just one deep desire—to meet her children.

And just like that forty years passed by, and they were full of happiness and marital bliss.

9

War was brewing on the borders of Punjab. Around the beginning of March in 1965, the Indian Army detected extensive movement of the Pakistani Army’s infantry.

* * *

An elegant, suave and strikingly beautiful woman with sharp features and long hair streaked with grey stood in one corner of the officers’ mess in Delhi’s cantonment area, watching her husband being ceremoniously promoted to a new rank. The two tiny crossed swords on his shoulder flaps were glittering, adding enormous respect and responsibilities. He was now a Corps Commander (GOC) of the Western Command, headquartered in Shimla. And in those days, there were just a handful. The greying beard on his face looked sharp and bright in contrast to his olive-green attire and matching turban.

In his new uniform, Major General Virk looked every inch the handsome, decorated commander. The expression in Bibi’s eyes was that of immense happiness, satisfaction and gratitude. She felt proud of the rank insignias on her husband’s uniform. He had reached the pinnacle of his career and was the star of the evening. As was customary, colleagues and seniors walked up to him and poured chilled beer over his shirt and medallions. While the practice was to sprinkle a few drops of liquor on the newly promoted officers, it was Virk’s popularity, warmth and camaraderie towards his juniors that had melted all the boundaries of formality, allowing everyone to celebrate his promotion. It was their love for the new general officer that had filled the air with cheer. ‘Wish you many more!’ they shouted aloud as they gulped down mugs of beer in quick succession.