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Dekho Veer Jawaano Apne Khoon Pe Yeh Ilzaam Na Aaye… Like all fellow Indian, my heart burns and aches after the news of the senseless violence at Pulwama.
Air has become heavy with the stifled sadness we all are carrying in our hearts. War, badla, revenge are the rhetoric’s doing the rounds. Every Indian is angry. These emotions may not have an easy death unlike other national issue. Justified. Unarmed soldiers of nation have been attacked. Uri – reloaded.
As I write this; a news App on my phone tells me that the IAF has airlifted 319, GATE aspirants from Kashmir. My heart gets restless again. Are the Indian Forces the new age Super humans?
2014, Kashmir floods, Indian Army and Air Force were deployed for relief and rescue of the local Kashmiris’. Earthquake of 2005, the Indian forces were at rescue again. 2010, cloudburst, Indian forces were ferrying humanity to safer spots in Jammu and Kashmir.
I am a Kashmiri, but you don’t have to be a Kashmiri to acknowledge the community service the Indian forces do besides the obvious job – Protecting India. I wonder where these youngsters get so much of valour from.
These just out of school/college recruits; I wonder who inspires them to join the Forces? Is the passion for serving motherland acquired or inbuilt? What is nationalism for them? Those being the case, even their parents proudly give them names like Subedar, Fateh, Safdar, Bir; probably to instil the same patriotism among their protégés. Trust me, nationalism is infectious. After the dastardly Pulwama terror attack, more than many, parents of the martyred brave heart’s are eager to second their next child into the Indian Forces; to uphold the honour of Motherland India.
Like most of their urban counter parts, why aren’t the gallant folks from our small towns opting to work abroad; to earn extra bucks, to build that dream house, to buy as much gold for the women folk as much the custom allows, to pull all the village folk and settle in a foreign land. Choose is clear. For the urban lot, the plush corporate jobs are alluring while for these young broods that are seeking career in Forces; national pride is the perk. Aspirants of Indian Forces, reach the recruitment camp in droves.
Idea is not to compare; but in general there is a dip in the applications coming from young boys and girls from metros and cosmopolitan cities; could be because others careers are alluring and the financial returns are higher.
Is upholding fervid nationalistic feeling only the responsibility of a few Indian in the uniform? Despite all their sacrifices during war, insurgencies, manning internal securities or providing humanitarian services during any natural calamity; they are at the receiving end – always.
To me personally; all those men who have left behind their loved ones and are earnestly guarding the borders of India are Super Heroes. Those jawaans are for real unlike the fictitious Spiderman and Ironman. Nation is utmost to them.
Jingoism doesn’t work. Show nationalism in action. Every man or woman in uniform deserves respect and only respect. Upholding national pride is not only the job of the people in uniform; but ours too. For all those who think war is an answer, mind you; that will be an avalanche of tragedies in waiting. Among the ‘Firsts’, jawaans will bear the brunt of the first bullet; while most of us would be reading the war news updates on social media in our plush offices.
To the valiant hero’s of India, who sacrificed their lives for Mother India. Jawaano Ne Apne Khoon Pe Koi Ilzaam Na Aane Diya!!
Shat Shat Naman.
Image source: YouTube
Entangled in balls of yarn; origins unknown...With a blunt pencil, the quintessential machine and the cacophony; hope to knit a flying carpet and steer the magic carpet around…
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Women making compromises for the sake of their families is real; I have seen, heard and read about them. My family has been my biggest cheerleaders!
‘I suppose you will work after marriage?’ My (then) prospective mother-in-law asked a few minutes after we had met.
I was in the penultimate semester of my two-year MBA at IIM Indore. Amid lectures, libraries, badminton, extracurriculars, and placements, I somehow managed to discover my future life partner there. His parents had arrived in Indore from Lucknow to meet his choice and deliberate about blessing the marriage.
‘Yes, of course,’ I replied without blinking, trying to gauge her reaction.
I huffed, puffed and panted up the hill, taking many rest breaks along the way. My calf muscles pained, my heart protested, and my breathing became heavy at one stage.
“Let’s turn back,” my husband remarked. We stood at the foot of Shravanbelagola – one of the most revered Jain pilgrimage centres. “We will not climb the hill,” he continued.
My husband and I were vacationing in Karnataka. It was the month of May, and even at the early hour of 8 am in the morning, the sun scorched our backs. After visiting Bangalore and Mysore, we had made a planned stop at this holy site in the Southern part of the state en route to Hosur. Even while planning our vacation, my husband was very excited at the prospect of visiting this place and the 18 m high statue of Lord Gometeshwara, considered one of the world’s tallest free-standing monolithic statues.
What we hadn’t bargained for was there would be 1001 granite steps that needed to be climbed to have a close-up view of this colossal magic three thousand feet above sea level on a hilltop. It would be an understatement to term it as an arduous climb.
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