SAYONARA MY FRIEND

 

 

LT COL NOEL ELLIS

 

25/VIII/2025

 

In my life I have written so many obituaries for the people I have loved and were very close and dear to me. Bidding them the final farewell is very heart breaking but that is what destiny is all about. No one can stay forever.

 

She came to my life almost forty years ago when I had started my life as a 2Lt in the Army. Life in the army gets quite lonely sometimes. You need friends who can keep your secrets and give you company. Let me confess, there are no personal secrets between good friends. He/she would keep everything deep within her/his heart.

 

Once you poured out what was there within you, she would just hold them tight. You could use them as memories or when you remembered something. She would willingly let you retrieve them. You even left the room unlocked; she never divulged them to anyone.

 

Every two years she would be given a new coat. Mind you, she loved ‘black’. Your name and rank were etched in white on it with a number. That was like a ‘dhobi number’, very distinct and very personal for ease of identification, lest she got mixed up in the crowd.

 

Sometimes, you requested her to open her heart out. You would be reminded of a few old books which you read over and over again. She was their custodian. She would tell you stories of your NDA sports stockings with holes and squadron coloured shirts which you also loved as dearly as you loved her.

 

She was the silent guardian of all the naughty books and magazines that a fauji keeps. Darling would hide them under the pleats of a bed cover. I am sure she would have read all the love letters which my fiancée wrote to me. She definitely would not be interested in reading army precis.

 

Songs which played on your tape recorder were there with her, organised and neatly stowed. At a glance you could retrieve them. She would sing along while you hummed in your grotesque voice.

 

My lady never complained. You stayed in a room, which was shared with many fellow officers. You kept her in a MES house or a bunker. A tent was where she stayed quite often. In the open desert, to high altitude, to insurgent infested areas of the North East, to active militant areas is Kashmir. To the plains of Punjab, Op Parakram, Op Vijay, you name it, she was the most faithful of all my friends.

 

Sometimes you would leave her with your buddy to look after. Sometimes, she was mishandled and mauled when travelling by train. She didn’t mind travelling unreserved or in the luggage compartment. Afterall, that is what good friends are for.

 

A slightest bruise was taken very seriously. She would be treated like how a lady should be treated and even given a fresh coat. She knew, she was always cared for.

 

With age, she started to deteriorate. Still no complaints. She would bear the hail, the winds, the sun, and storms with ease. One day she even tumbled off a 3 ton, which was often a mode of transport. Not a word was uttered.

 

Then one day she fell in love with plants. I even left my gardening and other tools with her. She would keep them clean and safe. Once in a while she would allow me to take out those tools for use. How dare I return them back dirty!

 

Her legs started to give away. It was a very painful sight to watch. She became immobile and difficult to carry. Because she was kept on a flatbed, she continued to live but we knew that she was going away. There was no treatment we could do.

 

She now became a pure vegetarian. Anything green and fresh would bring glee to her eyes. She would munch on them but digestion was becoming an issue. Her condition kept failing.  Last evening she passed away peacefully. We were sad but happy. After all these years of trails and turmoil, she finally would rest in peace. My wife loved her as dearly as me.

 

Yes friends, she is my black Army trunk number 14. She still wears the locks like ear rings. Before her funeral march we brought her down to the garden. She was laid between the plants which loved the food she made in her belly. The Champa tree showered flowers to make the scene more touching.

 

Farewell my dear loyal friend. You served us so long and so well. Thank you for your service. You deserved the medals I wore and often left them with you for safe custody. Sayonara, my  black Iron box.

 

Can you, my friends, relate to my story? I wonder!!!!!!!

 

JAI HIND

©® NOEL ELLIS