Preeti Singh’s short story is a glimpse of a borderless world where love is the language and joy freely flows in the air.
Bhagat Singh, Sukhdev, and Rajguru stood straight that day, like all other days. They gently smiled and gazed at you steadily if you looked them in the eye. If you looked at them a little longer and a little deeper they’d sit you down for a story or two. With fists clenched and arms raised they evoked a sense of fervor like no other. Bhagat Singh held Rajguru’s hand and Sukhdev stood loyally beside them.
Their bronzed statues hadn’t been garlanded that day because it was too early in the morning. Two buses had come from Amritsar and the morning air smelled of fresh giggles, hot puri, aloo, and talcum powder.
The Government College of Amritsar had brought its students for an outing to the Hussainiwala National Martyrs Memorial. The young women had been roused at five and they had started at six in the morning. The canteen cooks went along with them. When they arrived at the memorial, the students had mixed feelings of hunger and national pride, albeit separately. They gazed at the famous freedom trio and secretly wondered what would be cooked for them for breakfast.