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R.I.P.


Bangalore, Nov 8, 2010: The police today arrested four persons, including a woman, in connection with the murder of an Army jawan from Punjab at the Bangalore City Railway Station yesterday.

Though Nawdinder Singh, Lance Naik in the 21 Punjab Regiment, did not die in the battlefield fighting against external enemies, his death was no less heroic. He was killed when he rushed to help a Railway Protection Force (RPF) constable arrest four robbers who had robbed a group of young women travellers of mobile phones and cash.

“The jawan showed exceptional courage. It is a pity that he was killed by miscreants,” Shiv Kumar, SP, Railways, told this reporter.

Nawdinder, about 30 years of age, was stabbed to death by miscreants with a knife with a blade about eight inches long. The knife was pushed to the hilt in the Army jawan’s chest. He died on the spot.

The jawan, hailing from Gillanwale village under Dera Baba Nanak Tehsil in Gurdaspur district, had just arrived in Bangalore to attend a course at the Army Service Corps (ASC) Centre here. He was waiting for an Army transport to pick him when the incident happened.

An RPF constable chased the gang of robbers and had caught two of them when they attacked the constable with a knife, inflicting multiple stab wounds on him.

The gutsy Sikh soldier, who was standing a few metres away, rushed to the constable’s help. The robbers stabbed Singh and escaped, leaving the soldier to die.

The jawan’s body has been kept at the Victoria Hospital here. After the postmortem, it will be handed over to his brothers, who are arriving in Bangalore today.

“The place was heavily crowded. However, no one but Nawdinder came forward to catch the miscreants. He showed true bravery,” RD Patil, an Inspector with the Railway Protection Force, said.

It's Death Again

It's Death again – He's always there –
Watching; waiting – e'er the stare!
Every time I look behind
Or reach to pull the window blind,
I catch a glimpse of grubby hood –
A little clue to where he stood;
The glint of light that caught the scythe.
Perhaps if I could pay a tithe…
But O! no use, he'll never go.
The adamant phantom; don't you know,
He will but wait until it's time
For me to hear His fateful chime –?
The toll that's only meant for me,
To say: 'You're next, it has to be…'

Copyright ©
Mark R Slaughter 2009

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