Listen: Last Moments With a Man Posted in the Kargil War

Major Chandra Bhushan Dwivedi – an artillery officer with the 315 Field Regiment died in the Kargil War of 1999.

Listen to his wife, Bhawna Dwivedi recount her last conversation with him.

What do I say about my husband? However much I say about his personality will be less. They say that god calls good people from this world back to himself sooner. He was very caring... as a son, brother, father or a husband. He was obviously a good soldier as well. He sacrificed his life for the nation. I feel very proud of my husband. Even my children do.

He left for Kargil on 14 May. We never spoke in person after that. We reached Srinagar on 13 May and the next day he and his men moved from there. We were together for 12 hours. In his last letter, even he mentions that the time we spent in those 12 hours was really memorable. But... I didn’t get to know only... when I met him and when he was gone. That’s the only regret I have. That perhaps I could’ve said something... what I had to say to him, we couldn’t even finish the conversation and he left us.

Since he left for the war, there were no phone calls from him initially. We used to live in Meerut. I used to get no phone calls and got really worried. Sometimes I would pray, sometimes I would keep crying. Some of my friends would come over and tell me ‘why are you crying? Because everything is fine, that is why you haven’t received a call. Getting a call means there’s been a problem. That’s why don’t worry, everything will be fine. He will be back soon.’

I’m from Bihar, so we had to travel from Meerut to Bihar once. So I went and spent one month there. On 21 June, he called for the first time. I wasn’t home, I was at someone’s house. We didn’t have mobile phones then. I was called back home and I spoke to him. He had a habit of giving the phone to whoever was sitting next to him... friend, fellow Army men... he would say talk to them, everyone lives alone and likes to talk to family and friends back home. I would complain that he himself talks less to me and makes me talk to others more. That day he couldn’t speak to the kids. He said that he’ll talk to me when I reach Siliguri, where I was going next.

After I reached Siliguri, I would sit at the PCO everyday and wait to talk to him. When I received no call, I would feel very dejected and go back home. This was my daily routine for the week I was there.

Then on 30 June, he called. I picked up and couldn’t believe it was him on the other end. I was wondering has he really called me? Am I imagining this? That’s how I was feeling. Anyway, it was him and we started talking. But his voice... felt very heavy for some reason. It could be that he had an idea of some problem brewing... he was talking to me, so he must also be feeling it more. But he kept talking to me. My sister was sitting right next to me. I gave her the phone and asked her to talk to him saying that I found the way he was talking very worrying. She started talking to him and asking him how he was etc. He then told her: “Tell Bhawna that whatever news she sees on TV is half truth, half lies. Ask her not to believe that. Tell her not to worry, we will all come back definitely.”

That was it. He asked to speak to the kids. He spoke to Neha, our elder daughter but by the time Diksha could get to the phone, it had gotten disconnected. We kept trying to call him back, maybe he was trying too... but we couldn’t speak again that day. I do remember he said at the end to me that he will speak to me once I return to Meerut.

On 2 July, we left for Meerut. On 3 July, when we reached Delhi on the way, my brother who was also in the Army and was posted there, had come to the station with my sister’s son. They all came and started insisting that I come back home with them. They said that we had travelled a lot, and I should have some lunch and rest before continuing towards Meerut. Everyone was insisting so much, so I had to go. We went, sat down... my sister-in-law had made tea. I had a sip... I didn’t feel like doing anything but I sat there for sometime with them nevertheless.

Then my brother called me inside the room. My sister’s son was also there. All of them hugged me and my brother said ‘Chandrabhushan is no more’. I felt like... I couldn’t believe it... I still don’t know what to say. It felt like my entire world had collapsed. He spoke the words and I felt that... this was the end. There was nothing left for me. There’s no reason to live life anymore.

Then my brother asked me to look at our two daughters and explained to me that if I gave up like this, what would they do? I looked at my daughters. Even they got worried looking at me and slowly they also found out about the news.

Then.. what was there? Just the wait... when will he come back? When will his body come to us? He had to come on the 3rd, but he couldn’t and his remains arrived on 4 July. Then, we left for Bihar from there after that.

Then we returned from Bihar to Meerut, because we had to pack everything before moving to Delhi where I had decided to stay till my daughters’ education was over. So, when we reached Meerut, one of his letters he had written on 30 June had arrived late. By the time I got the letter, everything was already over. In the letter, he wrote about everyone as usual... he is here, he is there... that was his letter. He had written to everyone... our daughters, to me, and even to a niece I have.

What was next? Nothing. Just had to look at our daughters and live somehow. We shifted to Delhi and got their admissions done. My elder daughter, Neha was 12 then and in the 8th grade. Diksha, was eight years old and in the 3rd grade. So, their schools began. Slowly, they grew up. Neha did her MBBS, Diksha studied journalism. Today, she’s an author and has also written a book on her father called ‘Letters from Kargil’.

That’s it... when I came to Delhi, I got a petrol pump [from the government]. That’s what I run now. In the beginning, there were a lot of problems... I still have them till this day. Only recently it has begun feeling like it’s getting better. Because I was a housewife, I had no knowledge about anything. My husband would do everything for me, I would just follow him. I had no idea. We ran into a lot of financial problems... our money got stuck in the market. But it’s getting better.

When someone dies, only the person who is left behind knows how difficult it is to handle that pain. We know that pain really well. Even today, the kids really remember him a lot. He was always laughing and playing with them. If I was ever traveling in a train alone, he used to make an entire map detailing which station comes where and when so that I could pass the time by looking at the map. Just like this, he had always pampered me a lot. He never let me face a problem. I remember all that... no one can do as much as my husband did. Even though he had such a busy schedule, he would never not write to us. Even though he was at a place where it was tough to write letters, even if he wrote two lines, he would write them and send it to us.

These are the few memories we have of him. We have to live with the support of these memories only now. We have to live ahead.

This is it. This is my story.