For 18 years, I’ve had this day come and pass by. I never get the numbers wrong. I know the details of the war like the back of my hand. The war was on for more than 60 days. On papers, it had ended on 26 July 1999. The official period of service of the soldiers who were deployed at the war front was 1 May 1999 to 31 October.
A total of 527 soldiers sacrificed their life for us. It’s been 18 years since their supreme sacrifice, 18 years since we’ve been waking up every morning to a considerably empty house and 18 years since we’ve been wearing that emptiness like a badge of honour.
In Class, All Eyes Turned Towards Me in Awe
A week prior to 26 July, our schools would begin celebrations. They would distribute flag stickers to us to wear for the whole week. This was done to honour our men on guard and their supreme sacrifices. Every year, our teacher would pull out the stickers from her bag and explain the significance of each. All eyes in my class, 54 pairs of them to be exact, would turn towards me in awe.
On the old creaky wooden benches of my convent school, I would sit slightly taller than usual, my back slightly a bit straighter and my chest slightly more puffed. I was always so proud of my father and his friends — some who returned and some who didn't. Even today, as I write this and remember them, I feel like the same young girl sitting in her classroom, her heart filled with pride and love for her Army and the nation.
During this week, I would be showered with love and attention from all my classmates. It was never the big things but the little ones that mattered. The kind words would make me forget all the times I hadn't been invited to a birthday party, because, they knew there wouldn't be anyone to pick me up or drop me.
By grade 3, it was understood that I don't attend birthday parties for the sole reason that Mum had to work and as much as I wanted to crib about it and cry, I was expected to be mature enough to understand that she does it to put food on our table.
Kargil Made Me Realise the Value of Sacrifice
Today, when people ask me how I am so wise for my age, they conveniently forget that at three, I was expected to understand the concept of death and loss. By the time I turned six, I was experiencing extreme emotions of love towards our own, hatred towards the other and pain that was exclusively my own.
At 10, I understood the value of sacrifice. Sacrifices from our forces along the border and the little sacrifices that my mother had to make along with many other mothers surviving the similar fate.
I may not understand military strategies or have knowledge about the political climate. But, if there is something that I understand, it is the weight of the sacrifices that 527 families have been carrying for 18 years, silently with their puffed chests.
Today, let’s take pride in our victory and let us also remember the sacrifices made by our men.
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