Balakot Air-Strike: How India Avenged Pulwama

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Manan Bhatt is a Veteran of the Indian Navy. A Graduate of Saurashtra University, having served onboard Frigates & Corvettes with 15 years' service under his belt that includes service during Operation Talwar (Kargil War) and Operation Parakram also assignments at the Integrated Headquarters of Defence and DRDO.

He is continuously striving for rehabilitation and resettlement of widows, children and families of fallen soldiers, disabled ex-servicemen and ex-servicemen. He lives in Rajkot, Gujarat.

Acircle of sadness engulfed Savitri as she recalled the cheerful life that prevailed before his passing away. She felt helpless and missed the shoulder and the tender eyes and the love filled moments. CRPF personnel brought in Tilak's casket and placed it in the centre of the small, dim-lit living room of the family's three-room house. Tears welled up in Savitri's eyes as she walked up and threw her arms around her husband's coffin. Sobbing profusely, she requested the officials to open it for once.

But the CRPF men were under strict orders to not to allow anyone to open the casket under any circumstance, they informed the weeping widow.

She wanted to see his face and to stroke his cheeks and caress his hair for the last time. She longed to tell him, once more, what the kids are doing, about Ma and Bauji's health. And, yes, she missed him, she would add. That's what Tilak was always concerned about.

She spontaneously took off her gold and red chunar that Tilak had draped around her head during their wedding and wrapped it around the casket.

Aryan could read his papa's name written on two

labels on the casket, one of them read as 'Head.' His

inconsolable mother was seated next to it. Aryan's

grandma also wailed aloud: "My sole support

of old

age is

gone. Who would now address me as mother again?" The kid pulled his grandma pallu and asked her: "Dadi, is Papa inside?" The teary-eyed old woman, who had lost her only son, said 'yes' in a broken voice.

Tilak Raj's comrades were busy consoling his elders around the casket, carrying whatever remained of the brave heart.

Aryan held the toy-soldier that his papa had presented him on his last visit and with which they played. He wanted Papa to have it.

The young one ran towards the coffin and threw its lid back; he froze, as he could not find Papa inside. One of the men rushed in to shut the lid immediately. The little boy turned to his mother and said: "Papa is not there, Ma! He is alive."

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