Author's POV
In Kupwara, J&K
Snow covered the muddy ground like a soft white blanket. The pine trees stood tall and quiet under the weight of snow on their branches. The sky was grey, and cold winds swept through the air.
Thin smoke drifted from a small chimney, slowly blending into the frosty atmosphere. The Army base camp was calm, with only the sounds of heavy wind blowing and dogs barking.
Inside a tent, a soft golden-yellow light glowed, illuminating the space. A man sat at his desk, writing a letter. Phone connections were weak in this area, and the use of devices was not permitted.
He wrote the letter with a slight smile, pouring his feelings onto the page. The letter read:
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"My Jaan, (life)
Today, my toothpaste froze.
Yes, you read that right. I had to warm it near the heater like it was some fancy mint-flavored soup. And my socks? Don't even ask—they turned hard as rocks overnight. I'm so sick of this. Whatever I need to use, I have to heat it first.
This place is beautiful—mountains, frozen lakes, white trees blanketed in snow. It's peaceful and yet chaotic at the same time.
We're all doing fine. No one has turned into an ice cube yet. Remember my batchmate Chadda? He slipped on ice this morning and invented four new bad words. Don't worry, your innocent son won't write them here.
I miss your hot handmade aloo parathas, and the heater with the warm blanket. Please send me an extra pair of socks. And maybe those handmade gloves of yours? And perhaps… a mini tandoor?
With love and frozen fingers,
Your sanskari son, Kannu."
(Your Innocent son, kannu)
---
He smiled and thought of posting the letter at the post office, hoping it would reach his mother.
Yes, he was none other than Karanvir Singh Dhillon, an army officer with the rank of Major. He had completed numerous missions and earned medals. The only son—and the only family—his mother had left. His father passed away when Karanvir was just four years old, and since then, his mother had raised him on her own.
He was shy around girls but shameless in front of boys. A real man—nothing fictional about him.
His physique was sharp: a bulky build, defined muscles, a charming smile, short hair, a trimmed beard, and always dressed in camouflage, as per uniform.
He took his torch and stepped out for his round.
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Delhi – Dhillon House
A woman in a Patiala salwar suit sat on the living room couch, staring at a particular girl's photo.
Across from her, another woman sat sipping tea.
"Bhabhi, she'll be perfect for our Kannu," the woman said.
Gurleen glared at her, and she quickly corrected herself.
"I mean your Karan."
Gurleen nodded, placed the photo on the table, and said,
"She's not my son's type."
"Karan's mother, Gurleen Kaur Dhillon," she added firmly.
The matchmaker sitting across asked, "Bhabhi, ek gal dasso, what type of girl do you want for your Karan?"
(Translation: Sister-in-law, tell me one thing.)
She placed her cup of tea on the table and listened.
"I don't want a girl who just knows cooking or plans to stay at home doing nothing with her education. I want a working girl—one who respects everyone, follows her passion. Someone who becomes my daughter, my friend—not just a daughter-in-law. A girl who becomes my son's friend, not just his wife. Someone who understands him, takes care of him after me. That's all I want.
All the girls you've shown so far don't suit him, and their bios look fake," Gurleen said, leaning back into the couch and sipping her tea.
"But bhabhi, I've shown you almost every girl—from the east to the west, even the north! So now you want your daughter-in-law from the south?" the matchmaker asked, exasperated.
"Hm, only if she has those qualities. Otherwise, if my son finds someone on his own, I won't have a problem," she replied with a grin.
Just then, a postman appeared at the door with an envelope.
The matchmaker left, and Gurleen walked over to collect the letter. She already knew—it was from her beloved son.
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Gurleen's POV
I smiled, laughed, tears streaming down my face. He really made fun of his situation—but I know how hard it must be for him there.
I just hope he's truly doing well and returns to me soon.
I want to hold my son in my arms again.
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