In Memory of Capt. Vikram Batra

Dr Roopali pays her tribute in a poignant verse to a Kargil martyr, Vikram Batra, a young officer, who tragically died, prompting questions about life’s purpose – exclusively for Different Truths.

During the Kargil war, amidst the chaos, a young, bearded officer of the Indian Army sat in his bunker, sharing laughter and jokes with young reporters from Star TV. He seemed to make light of his capture of Pt 5140, exclaiming gleefully, “Yeh Dil Mange More!” His confidence was evident in his demeanour.

A few days later, on July 7, 1999, this officer, affectionately known as “Vicky” to his friends, was assigned the task of conducting reconnaissance on the western edge of Pt 4875. He was also to assist two companies trapped in the Dras sector at first light, at dawn. Batra, who was code-named Sher Shah, led his inspired Regiment 13 J&K Rifles with tremendous ferocity, obliterating the enemy post. However, just as victory was within reach, Batra was struck in the neck and lost his life on the peak that is now known as Sher Shah Vikram Batra Peak.

The morning brought the heart-wrenching news of Captain Batra’s martyrdom. Another brave soldier had fallen, claimed by the ravages of war. I wept bitterly as I penned this dedication on July 8, 1999.

In recognition of his exceptional acts of bravery and his supreme sacrifice in service to his country, Vikram Batra has been honoured with the nation's highest decoration for valour, the Param Vir Chakra.                        
 
When inky night tosses its life out does
morning come so
gently and hopefully.
it is the chirping bird who
brings with it a promise.
             
last night when they told us
that the bearded young man
(who only the other day
sat in his bunker)
talking about the evil one
across the mountain,
was now dead,
a martyr,
I cried.
 
That’s when I thought 
life was meant
only for the living;
the dead had little to do with it.
 
Should I then
spread out my palm
camouflaged with the crisscross
of a desperate life
and like a beggar
ask
for the crumbs
from life’s succulent table?
 
or should I
with my gnarled fingers
snatch
a large portion
of honeyed happiness,
dripping defiance?

Picture design by Anumita Roy