Life had to go on in spite of the tragedy that had struck. Time cured all as things went back to normal since then. The nineteenth July comes every year as the time wheels around. I remembered this day not as the child’s thought as the public holiday, but as it was the day of tears to the whole nation to mourn for the death of our heroes. The time healed the tears to dry as log or our heart to cold as ice. But the rain slashed mercilessly and the winds roared pitilessly that I saw outside from my window while I was writing this article. I could only imagine the tears of the whole nation happened in the scene of the day. But I could feel in the flesh at the present that the weather was foul even for the monsoon season as it might be seen the same as the day of nineteenth July 1947.
