Ode to a fighter jet

The farewell to the MiG-21 was a testament to the bond between man and machine

It was a farewell unlike any other; a ceremony so extraordinary that one may never quite see the same again.  Chandigarh Air Base stood in ceremonial splendour to bid goodbye to a legend: the MiG-21, sentinel of India’s skies for more than six decades.

I arrived a day early, wandering and tracing old memories in Chandigarh’s orderly streets, not far from the western frontier, under heightened security. Two days earlier, the Air Force had dress-rehearsed the farewell in full, sans guests, and perhaps sans emotion.

That morning, the airfield shimmered under the autumn sun. The gathering was remarkable: generations of MiG pilots and technicians, war veterans, service chiefs, and the defence minister. Media cameras stood like sentries, tripods planted, lenses trained. Beneath sky-blue shamianas, spectators waited in hushed anticipation.

Then came the announcement: six MiG-21s, tails streaked in the tricolour, would take off for their final flight.  A ripple of applause ran through the stands.  The number was symbolic—
six aircraft inducted in 1963, six decades of service, and now six flying their last salute.

For nearly half an hour, the fighters carved patterns of farewell across the sky: combat formations, intercept drills, and mock chases. Even in twilight, the MiGs revealed the heart of warriors.  When the aircraft touched down one by one, applause rose again, long and full.  Like soldiers halting their march while the rhythm still holds, the MiG-21s chose to rest while their engines sang true.

Crash tenders lined the tarmac, arcing water into a misty tribute. Sunlight broke into rainbows as the MiGs rolled beneath. Engines that once roared in battle fell silent—forever. Pilots stepped out, helmets cradled to their chests. Behind them stood the aircraft, motionless. A chapter had closed.

Inducted in 1963, the MiG-21 was India’s first supersonic fighter—rugged, reliable, simple to maintain, and ever ready. It was a soldier’s aircraft: unpretentious, dependable, and unforgiving of weakness.

In battle, machines often transcend metal. Between a warrior and his weapon forms a silent fraternity. For a fighter pilot, that bond is absolute; once airborne, there is only sky, instinct, and trust.

To the uninitiated, such emotion for a machine may seem excessive. Yet in the history of warfare, weapons have never been mere tools. Arjuna’s Gandiva, Bhima’s mace, Achilles’ spear, the samurai’s katana, or the Gurkha’s kukri – these were not just weapons but extensions of their wielder’s spirit. Weapons embody the courage, endurance, and genius of their time. Over the years, the blood and pain fade, leaving only reverence and pride. In every era, weapons that once brought destruction later become heritage, preserved not for the wars they fought, but for the bravery they symbolise.

The farewell was the culmination of a relationship. Between man and machine, between memory and legacy. A parting between comrades. 

Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.