Lost on a jarred ear

Airbase in Assam - Rakesh and Maya (Evening)

The fluorescent lights of the officers' common room cast long shadows as dusk settled over the Assam airbase. Rakesh sat on the edge of an armchair, the silence from his family a tangible weight. Maya entered quietly, carrying two mugs of tea. She offered one to Rakesh, her eyes filled with a gentle concern.

"Still nothing?" she asked softly.

Rakesh shook his head, the weariness evident in the lines around his eyes. "Tried again. Parents, Nilesh… just silence."

Maya sat beside him, the warmth of her presence a small comfort in the sterile room. "It's hard, isn't it? This… being cut off."

Rakesh nodded, taking a slow sip of the tea. "It is. You get so used to just picking up the phone…" He trailed off, the unspoken anxieties hanging in the air.

"My parents are usually up late," Maya offered again, her voice hesitant. "They'd understand the situation. They could call yours, just to let them know you're safe."

A grateful look crossed Rakesh's face, but he shook his head. "Thank you, Maya. Really. But… we haven't told them about us yet." A faint blush crept up his neck.

Maya's lips curved into a small, understanding smile. "They'd probably be more worried about the communication blackout than anything else right now. But I respect your decision." She placed a hand gently on his arm. "You're not alone here, Rakesh."

Rakesh covered her hand with his, a silent acknowledgment of the connection they shared in this isolated place. After a moment, he sighed. "There's… there's a cousin. Riya. She's usually up late studying. I'll try her." The reluctance in his voice was palpable.

Six months ago... Gopal's Office

The afternoon sun streamed through the large windows of Gopal's office, illuminating the framed photographs of his family on his desk.

"Vermaji, you won't believe it! My son… he's a Flying Officer now! Posted in Assam." Gopal puffed out his chest with pride.

"Wah, Gopalji! That's fantastic news!" Mr. Verma's voice boomed through the phone. "Getting into the Air Force these days… it's a real test, isn't it? That national entrance exam they have…"

"It is, Vermaji," Gopal agreed, leaning back. "Months he studied for that written thing. Aptitude, reasoning, general knowledge… a real grilling. And then came the selection board… a whole series of tests. They look at everything – how you think, how you work with others, how you handle pressure. Not just about flying."

"I heard they have special tests for pilots too," Mr. Verma added.

"They do. My son, Rakesh, said it tested his reflexes, his sense of direction in space… whether he had the knack for it. And the medicals were no joke either. Perfect vision needed." Gopal shook his head in admiration. "And you know, he didn't make it the first time. Hit him hard, it did. But he just dug in, prepared even harder, and finally got through. Shows the kind of character he has."

"A true achievement," Mr. Verma said. "They only take the best. You must be so proud."

"I am, Vermaji," Gopal said, his voice thick with emotion. "Truly proud. Now, with everything happening… I just pray he's safe up there." A shadow of worry crossed his face, momentarily eclipsing his pride.

Three days ago : Hyderabad - Sunitha's Home

The aroma of evening prayers lingered in the air as Sunitha sat on the porch swing, her brother, Hari, beside her. The setting sun cast long shadows across the courtyard.

"He sounded well, Suni," Hari said gently, breaking the comfortable silence. "When Rakesh called about his posting."

Sunitha sighed, her gaze distant. "He always sounds brave, Hari anna. But a mother's heart knows… this tension with Pakistan… it worries me." She tried to inject a note of pride into her voice. "But he's an officer now, you know. A Flying Officer. He even has someone to help him with his uniform, and they have cooks at the mess."

Hari offered a weak smile. "That's good to hear, Suni. But sometimes I wonder… is this truly the path for him? Remember how his mind always worked? Full of ideas for businesses, for new technologies. He could have been leading a company by now, making a real name for himself in the world."

Sunitha's brow furrowed slightly. "It was his choice, Hari. His dream since he was a boy, looking up at the planes. The training… he’d call, his voice so tired, talking about the drills, the simulations. It was so demanding."

Hari leaned forward, his voice softer. "And now… all that risk. For what? This constant threat of conflict…"

Sunitha's composure wavered, her voice barely a whisper. "I worry constantly. But he gets upset if I show it. 'It's my duty, Amma,' he says. 'My calling.'"

Hari sighed, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "And all those dreams of seeing the world… remember that trip to Europe he took? He was so alive, so full of wonder. He mentioned that officers can't travel internationally for years… it seems a heavy price for someone like him."

Sunitha nodded, a tear tracing a path down her cheek. "He did. National security, he said. My Rakesh… his wings clipped in one way, even as he earned them in another. Sometimes I question it all, Hari. But then I see the pride in his eyes in that uniform… and I feel selfish for doubting his path."

Riya's Study - Late Night

The only light in Riya's small study came from the harsh glare of her desk lamp, illuminating scattered textbooks and half-empty coffee mugs. The digital clock on her laptop screen blinked 2:37 AM. She was hunched over her notes, the pressure of her upcoming competitive exams a familiar weight. The sudden shrill ring of her phone sliced through the quiet.

Frowning, she glanced at the caller ID – Rakesh. A wave of conflicting emotions washed over her: a flicker of obligation, a prickle of resentment. She answered with a clipped, "Hello?"

"Riya? It's me, Rakesh." His voice sounded distant, a little strained. "Just wanted to let you know I'm safe. There's a communication blackout… standard procedure with the current tensions. But things are a bit fluid here, you know? Being a newer officer but with a decent ranking, I might be flown out to wherever they need personnel if things escalate or if there are casualties, that sort of thing. I'll call properly when things ease up."

His words, meant to be reassuring, landed on fertile ground of her long-held grievances. Safe? she thought bitterly. He always was. The casualness of his tone, the brevity of the message, felt like another instance of the effortless ease with which he seemed to navigate life, a stark contrast to her own constant struggles. The mention of potential deployment sent a shiver down her spine, not of fear for him, but of a dark opportunity solidifying.

"Okay," she replied, her voice carefully neutral, masking the sudden flurry of vengeful ideas. "Glad to hear you're alright." The call ended, leaving Riya staring at her textbooks, the words now a meaningless jumble. The opportunity she had unknowingly been presented with pulsed in the silence of her small study. She reached for her phone again, her fingers hovering over Siya's number.

Siya's Home - Late Night

Siya's bedroom was dimly lit by the soft glow of a nightlight, casting gentle shadows over the crib where her three-year-old daughter, Naira, slept soundly. Siya herself was perched on the edge of the bed, exhaustion etched on her face. The demands of early motherhood, coupled with the lingering anxieties of her own difficult childhood, often left her feeling perpetually drained. Her phone buzzed, the insistent vibration pulling her from her weary thoughts. It was Riya.

She answered with a soft, "Hello?" not wanting to wake Naira.

"Siya," Riya's voice was tight with a barely suppressed excitement. "You won't believe what Rakesh just told me."

Siya sighed, rubbing her temples. "What is it, Riya? Naira just finally drifted off."

Riya quickly recounted Rakesh's brief call, her interpretation heavily skewed. "He said there's a total communication blackout, Siya. Standard procedure, he said. But listen to this – he also said because of his ranking, they might fly him out to the front lines if things get worse! Casualties, Siya! He could be in real danger!"

Siya was silent for a moment, a familiar weariness settling over her. "He said he was safe, Riya. Isn't that what matters?"

"But don't you ever just… resent it, Siya?" Riya's voice was low, laced with years of pent-up feeling. "The way they always were? Rakesh and Nilesh? So carefree, so loved. It was never like that for us."

Siya hesitated, the old wounds pricking. "That wasn't their fault, Riya. That was Mom and Dad…"

"I know, I know," Riya cut in impatiently. "But they were the ones who benefited, weren't they? Always basking in the attention we craved. And now… this communication blackout… and him talking about potential deployment… it's a chance, Siya. A chance to finally make them feel a sliver of the worry we always carried. I was thinking… maybe a little anonymous call to Aunt Sunitha and Uncle Hari? Just a hint that things might be far more serious for Rakesh than they know?"

Siya's brow furrowed. "Riya, no. That's… that's not right. He called to reassure us."

"But what if he was just trying to be brave?" Riya pressed, her voice gaining a feverish intensity. "They always acted so superior, Siya. Maybe it's time their perfect little world felt a tremor."

Siya was torn. A part of her, the part that still carried the scars of their childhood, felt a dark flicker of understanding for Riya's resentment. But the thought of actively causing distress to Rakesh's parents felt wrong. "Riya… be careful. Don't do something you'll regret. Don't make the urgent message that Rakesh wanted to convey to his family be lost on your jarred ear".

"I just want them to worry, Siya. Just for a little while," Riya whispered, the bitterness in her voice palpable. "They never seemed to notice our pain."

A heavy silence hung between them, the weight of their shared past and the potential for a damaging future. Finally, Siya said, her voice soft but firm, "It's late, Riya. Naira will be up soon. Let's… let's sleep on it, okay? Maybe things will look clearer in the morning."

Riya, still caught in the grip of her resentment, reluctantly agreed. The call ended, leaving Siya staring into the darkness, a knot of unease tightening in her chest.