The skies had opened to welcome the monsoon, and across the town, women dressed in hues of green and gold sang and danced, celebrating Teej — a festival of love and togetherness. For Tara, it was her first Teej after marriage, a day she had dreamt of since she was a little girl. But today, though her heart brimmed with happiness, there lingered a quiet ache — for the one she wanted to dress up for was miles away… posted in the cold, harsh terrains of Kashmir.
Her husband, Captain Dhruv, was serving the nation.
Still, Tara dressed up with love — her green saree flowed like the wind, bangles jingled with every movement, and her big red bindi shone with pride. Her mother-in-law’s eyes sparkled as she blessed her, “Sada suhagan raho, beta,” and Tara smiled through the bittersweet tug in her chest.
She clicked pictures — some with friends, some alone, and some with a practiced smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She sent them all to Dhruv on WhatsApp, hoping he’d see them when he could. That evening, her phone buzzed. It was him.
“Tara… you looked stunning. I wish I was there. I miss you every day.”
Her heart swelled. And cracked a little more.
Dhruv and Tara had known each other for a decade — college sweethearts who had walked hand-in-hand through campus corridors, whispering dreams. After college, Dhruv had chosen to serve the country. Tara, psychology.
When Dhruv’s alliance proposal came through formal channels, Tara had been stunned — surprised, yes, but her heart raced with a quiet fear. Loving a man in uniform was one thing. Becoming a soldier’s wife? That was another.
They courted for 10 months. And Dhruv was honest — painfully so.
“There will be weeks when you won’t know where I am, Tara. There might be days when I can’t even tell you I’m okay. You deserve to know the truth before saying yes.”
It was a test of love, and one Tara passed with aching grace. She faced every silent phone, every dreaded news report, every sleepless night — and still chose him.
They married. Dhruv took 10 days’ leave. And on the 10th day, Tara stood at the threshold, eyes wet, hands folded in prayer, watching him disappear into the distance.
From that day on, calls were short, rare, and often timed with uncertainty. Yet every “I’m fine, Tara” was enough for her to breathe.
Today was Teej.
And the next morning, everything changed.
A terrorist attack in Kashmir — the same area where Dhruv was posted.
Tara’s hands trembled as she scrolled through the news, each headline cutting into her heart. She called — again and again. No answer. Just silence. Deafening silence.
Two martyred. Several injured.
Her mind spiraled — had he eaten? Slept? Was he safe?
She stood strong for her in-laws, remembering his words — “A soldier’s wife is his shield. You must be stronger than the world believes you can be.”
But inside, her soul screamed.
Days passed. Ten long, cruel days.
Then — a voice note.
“I’m safe, Tara. We’re hunting the remaining two. Our blood is boiling. We won’t let this go unanswered.”
Tears of relief flowed freely. She played it a dozen times. His voice — wounded but determined — was enough to give her strength.
A week passed.
And then the call came.
“Captain Dhruv is currently untraceable. He went deep into the jungle in pursuit. We haven’t been able to reach him or four others. We believe… no news is good news.”
Tara collapsed onto her knees.
The nightmare she had feared since the day she fell in love with a soldier was now real.
She didn’t eat. She barely slept. But she didn’t stop praying.
She lit a lamp every day, whispering every word into the universe — Bring him back. Let him return.
She now truly understood the pain etched into the faces of other army wives — the quiet courage behind their eyes. She had joined the silent sisterhood of warriors in waiting.
Ten days of no word.
Then — the doorbell rang.
Her heart stopped.
Tara ran, almost tripping, her hands shaking uncontrollably as she opened the door.
And there he was.
Captain Dhruv.
Bruised. Limping. But alive. Smiling. Alive.
His eyes were full of pride — not just for surviving… but for serving.
Pride of fulfilling his duty in the truest spirit — protecting his nation, defending the innocent, and standing tall despite the wounds.
And in that moment, Tara’s eyes held the same gleam — a mirror of that pride, mixed with overwhelming love, relief, and unshakable strength.
Her heart ached, but it stood taller than ever. Her soldier had returned — and so had her reason to breathe.
Tears welled up, but this time she didn’t run into his arms.
Instead, Tara stood straight. Brought her hand up to her forehead.
And saluted.
Dhruv, stunned, raised his hand too.
Together, they whispered in unison —
“Jai Hind.”
Tara’s Teej was complete.
Not because she had danced or dressed up.
But because she had faced fear, endured silence, embraced strength —
And her soldier had returned.
She was no longer just an Army wife.
She was a warrior in her own right.
The Story Nook 
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