After the dust had settled and the marriage hullabaloo was over, the time had finally come to move to the husband’s posting location. Akhnoor, he had mentioned. The name had an emotion to it, like it was calling out to you.

Kashmir! people gasped. Both in awe and shock. “Are you sure!?” Some would ask. “What are you going to do there? Are you quitting your job?” All I knew was I was going; it was a leap of faith. Like he had said “Have faith”.

The welcome at Jammu was quite a dramatic one. A sarkari white ambassador with curtains and cushions awaited our arrival. The boys of his company were fully prepared with snacks and tea, which by the way was served in the car in typical military fashion. I was pleasantly surprised.

Passing an army brigade and leaving behind the hustle-bustle of Jammu, I approached Akhnoor. The street lights kept reducing in number and the winter chill made me shiver. I was wondering what the house would be like. Of course, I had seen pictures but being there would be different. The village was half asleep when we got there at around 20.45. I stood in front of a dimly lit house with a million questions in my mind. How will I live here!? Not a single soul around! To be honest, I was a little jittery. The husband had done his best to get the utilities in place. The house welcomed me.  

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