At the very same moment that Kanyakumari is waking up to its temple bells and soft echoes of the beach, at the other end of the country is waking up to something else.
In Kashmir, the sun simply doesn't rise but earns its place.
The gleam that touches the snow, the gleam that turns everything golden for a moment.
The cold breeze still rattles gently against the walls, refusing to let the warmth win completely.
Not fully snow covered. Not fully warm. Somewhere beautifully in between, the way only Kashmir can be.
And somewhere in this beauty,
In a room with nothing personal on the walls. No photographs, no memories. Just maps and duty.
There is a man in uniform, hands inside his pockets just admiring himself in the mirror.
Not because he is handsome, though he certainly is...
But because he is proud.
He is proud of the uniform he wears. Proud of what it stands for.
Proud that he would go to any extent for his nation.
Or perhaps he is proud because there is no one else left to be proud of him.
Captain Aryan Kapoor, Indian army.
The kind of man Kashmir makes and the kind of man Kashmir breaks.
He slowly steps out of his house. Didn't even bother to look back.
Not even once.
He walks through the base. Straight, composed and purposeful.
Other soldiers straighten up slightly as he passes. And salute as he walks through.
He reaches his unit. Pulls out a chair and sits.
He Picks up the file that has been waiting on his desk since last night.
He reads without rushing. Every page. Every detail.
His eyes move the way a trained soldier's eyes move.
Missing nothing, maps, photographs and every minute detail.
He is still reading, when the walkie talkie on his desk crackles.
"Captain Aryan! please come to my cabin"
Colonel Mehta's voice. Calm carrying something deep within it.
Aryan closes the file and stands up and walks in.
"Good morning sir!" Aryan said with a crisp salute.
Colonel Mehta acknowledged it with a nod. "Good morning Mr. Kapoor. Take a seat."
There is no warmth in the tone because the air is already heavy with tension.
Mr. Mehta opened the file in front of him and started to speak heavily, yet controlled.
"We have a situation." He turned the file towards Aryan.
A list of names. Surveillance photographs. Location coordinates. Movement patterns.
"Over the past several weeks our intelligence has been piecing together the structure of an insurgent network operating within the valley." Said Mr. Mehta looking more serious than usual.
A sense of relief can be identified when he continued saying "We have identified a group of insurgents operating in the valley. And from what we can see, they are definitely not small in number and seems like capable of creating a disaster."
Aryan studied the list carefully. His expression unchanged.
Mr. Mehta didn't stop he continued briefing Aryan. He stood up slowly and moved to the map on the wall.
He pointed to a marked location outside the valley.
"Somewhere within this network, there is an external carrier.... A woman."
"A woman?" Aryan asked out of confusion.
"Yes, she is not a member of the group. She has no formal affiliation and that made her invisible to surveillance. But it seems like she is the thread that holds everything together."
He walked back to the table, sat down folded his hand and said "This will be your first task Aryan. Get every minute information you can get."
"Who is she? How she moves? Who she reports to?"
"Everything!"
"Before taking her into custody."
Mr. Mehta leaned forward. "Here comes the critical part."
"There should be no suspicion that we are on a mission."
"The moment one of them gets cautious, the rest will disappear."
"We cannot afford that. We lose everything we have built over weeks." He closed the file and slid it across the table to Aryan.
Aryan picked it up.
But Mr. Mehta is not done yet. "Don't let me down Mr. Kapoor. I have seen a lot of officers in my years in this valley. Many capable. Many dedicated. But very few who can carry the weight of a mission. And you are one of those few."
"I am counting on you."
"And not just me the valley is counting on you."
A pause
"Before anything worse can happen."
He held Aryan's gaze for a moment. "Best of luck Mr. Kapoor."
A silence soon settled in the room. The silence that only comes under the weight of something real.
Aryan stood.
Saluted.
"Yes sir."
Pause
"It will be done."
Just the four words. Quiet and certain.
The way Aryan Kapoor always spoke, when he already decided. Failure was simply not an option.
Aryan walked back to his unit. Sat down. Opened the file.
Went through every page.
Quickly but carefully.
Every photograph.
Every name.
Every movement pattern.
The more he read, the more the picture became clear.
"This is not a small operation. This required precision." He said to himself.
He picked up the phone and called his most trusted team for a briefing.
A closed room.
Only the people who needed to be there.
No exceptions.
He stood at the head of the table.
Maps on the wall behind him.
Photographs spread across the table.
He spoke quietly —
But every word carried the weight of an order.
"Our sources on the ground have confirmed the presence of an active insurgent network operating within the valley.
We now have confirmed identities on most of them.
Our job is simple. Monitor each one of them."
He took a pause, glancing at everyone.
His voice became more strict as he continued.
"No exceptions.
No warnings.
No room for error."
Pause. He looked around the room.
"I want daily updates on each identified individual.
Every pattern.
Every movement.
Every deviation"
He looked around one final time.
"I do not accept mistakes.
I do not accept regrets.
Am I understood?"
A firm —
"Yes sir."
From every person in the room.
Soon the team dispersed.
The room that was filled with focused energy, went quiet in minutes.
Everyone had their assignments. Everyone knew what was expected.
Aryan stood alone at the table for a moment looking at the one photograph that still had no name beneath it.
The carrier.
The woman.
The missing piece.
He picked up his phone.
Without thinking much —
He is about to call that one person he trusted most for something like this.
"Kabir." Kabir Ansari.
His finger hovered over the name.
And then stopped.
He remembered.
10 days.
He himself had approved it. Signed it, without hesitation.
Because it was Kabir's mother, his only family.
Going into operation.
And that abusive father of his could never be trusted to handle anything.
Aryan knew that. He knew all of it.
He placed the phone back on the table.
"His mother needs him" he said deeply
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