Representative image
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Among the most serene memories I hold dear is our family trip to Pahalgam in 1989. Along with a few colleagues and their families, we experienced the unmatched warmth of local people, breathtaking landscapes, and the gentle guidance of horsemen and tour guides. That peaceful Kashmir stands in stark contrast to the strife-torn region we see today—a loss that is both personal and national.
The Indo-Pak war of 1965 evokes deep nostalgia for those of us now in our seventies. I was then a high school student at BEMP High School in Thalassery, Kerala—an institution with a proud 170-year legacy. Inspired by my father, a freedom fighter and schoolteacher, and moved by radio broadcasts and newspaper reports—our only sources of information in a pre-television era—I felt compelled to act. I organised a Defence Solidarity Rally that brought together five high schools, including our basketball rivals, Mubarak High School. Special thanks are due to Babu Acharath, our Physical Training teacher and Kerala Ranji Trophy captain, and Achuthan Velandy of Mubarak School, a respected basketball official. Together, we made a powerful choice—to place girls from Mubarak School at the front of the march, a symbol of unity and strength. Over 700 students marched in disciplined formation, capturing the town’s attention and embodying youthful patriotism.
Two solemn moments remain etched in my memory: receiving the mortal remains of two martyrs at the railway station. As we stood with their grieving families, we were confronted with the true cost of war. That same year, I wrote and directed a stage play on the war that was later broadcast by All India Radio, Bengaluru. One of the songs I penned was set to music by my colleague, the renowned Kannada composer Mysore Ananthaswamy. That song, echoing with emotion and pride, remains a cherished piece of my youth.
By the time war returned in 1971, I had joined the Defence Research and Development Organisation, serving at the LRDE (Electronics and Radar Development Establishment) in Bengaluru. I worked on a critical project urgently needed at the front. We toiled around the clock. Blackout conditions were the norm—vehicles drove with dimmed lights, and homes had windows painted dark. The atmosphere was intense, but our shared sense of purpose kept us going. Patriotism wasn’t a slogan; it was the fuel that powered us.
Now retired, I divide my time between Bengaluru, my home for over five decades, and my native town of Thalassery. As I observe today’s global and regional conflicts, I feel a renewed sense of duty. My pride swells every time I hear of DRDO’s accomplishments—be it the development of the AKASH missile system or anti-drone technologies safeguarding our borders. It gives me quiet satisfaction to know that, in some small way, my early contributions were part of this larger story. Incidentally, Thalassery is also the place where Ajit Doval, India’s current National Security Advisor, began his illustrious career—a source of local pride.
From a schoolboy organising solidarity marches to an engineer working in blackout conditions to a citizen reflecting on decades of service—I remain profoundly grateful for the opportunity to have served my country. Jai Hind!