KC EXCLUSIVE
The afternoon of February 3, 2025, was meant to be an ordinary day for Mrs. Aayeena, a devoted wife, a loving mother and a woman who had never imagined she would be thrust into the depths of terror. But fate had other plans.
As the sun dipped behind the rugged mountains of Behibag, Kulgam, a sudden burst of gunfire shattered the tranquility. The laughter of her children turned into screams of fear. A militant, lurking like a vulture in the shadows, launched a cold-blooded ambush on her family. Her world, once safe and secure was ripped apart in an instant.
Aayeena felt a piercing pain sear through her left thigh. A bullet had found its mark, tearing through her flesh, sending waves of agony through her body. Blood poured freely, staining the earth beneath her. But there was no time to collapse, no time to succumb to the excruciating pain. Fear was a luxury she could not afford.
Her husband, Nk Manzoor Ahmad Wagay, was in the militant’s line of fire and beside him, trembling like a leaf stood Sanya, her 14-year old niece frozen in terror. Aayeena had a choice: to give in to the agony consuming her or to rise above it. SHE CHOSE TO FIGHT.
Through sheer willpower, she lunged forward, pushing her husband and niece behind a nearby structure. The militant’s bullets rained down like a storm of death but she moved with a mother’s instinct, a wife’s love and a soldier’s courage.
She saw her daughters inside the house, peeking out in horror. Her bloodied hands signaled them to stay hidden. Her pain didn’t matter. Her fear didn’t matter. Only their survival did.
The air smelled of gunpowder and iron. Her vision blurred but she did not let go of hope. She knew that panic would only weaken them and fear would only feed the enemy. So, even as her leg throbbed, even as her blood soaked through her clothes, she refused to cry out.
Her husband had yet to realize the extent of her injury and she did not want him to. If he saw her wound, if he knew how much she was suffering, his resolve might falter. She swallowed the pain, locked away the agony in the depths of her soul and stood tall.
The militant’s gunfire struck one of their vehicle’s tires. Their escape seemed impossible. But Aayeena did not surrender to despair. With the last ounces of strength in her body, she pulled herself into the driver’s seat.
Her hands trembled, her head swam but she gritted her teeth. “Not today,” she whispered.
The engine roared to life. The car lurched forward, navigating the broken roads, bouncing over potholes. Every movement sent fire through her wound but she bite back her screams. She had to make it. She had to save them.
Her eldest daughter, an NCC cadet, had already contacted the 2IC of 34 RR, ensuring that medical assistance awaited them. But Aayeena did not care for herself. She only prayed that her children, her husband, her family, her entire world would survive.
When they finally reached safety, her body collapsed. The pain she had locked away now tore through her mercilessly. But she had done it. She had saved them.
Her selflessness, her unyielding strength and her iron will make Mrs. Aayeena more than a survivor, she is a WARRIOR. Her bravery will be etched into eternity, a tale of undying love, courage and sacrifice that will inspire generations to come.
She may bear the scars but they will never define her. Her strength will.
