I had warmly congratulated him for being so bold in accepting the assignment to Kabul. What can one now say to his wife, Malathi? That Venkat was a real hero, who represented the new face of Indian diplomacy as well as the long-forgotten tradition of the Indian Foreign Service and its precursors — the Indian Foreign and Political Department and the Indian Political Service.

Venkat should be remembered as the first IFS officer to die abroad in pursuit of India’s national interests. To be sure, there was Ravindra Mhatre, an Indian diplomat in Birmingham, who was kidnapped by Kashmiri terrorists in 1984 and murdered a few days later.

Venkat lost his life for being at the very cutting edge of India’s current strategic foray into Afghanistan. In that sense, he is the first martyr of independent India’s foreign policy, especially its more ambitious version of recent years.

Venkat was heroic not because he was unaware of the risks in Kabul. He knew very well that there were few takers for the jobs in Afghanistan either from the IFS or the other central services. The running of India’s high-profile diplomacy in Kabul and the four other consulates in Afghanistan — in Jalalabad, Kandahar, Herat and Mazar-e-Sharif — has depended entirely on volunteers like him.

Venkat sensed that a political counsellor’s job in Kabul would be hugely exciting. He knew that India was making big moves in Afghanistan and it would be an unmatched experience being a part of this new diplomatic adventure.

When I first met Venkat in Kathmandu about six years ago and later in Washington on various reporting assignments, there was no way one could miss either his self-assurance or his capacity to relentlessly pursue his diplomatic tasks.

The idea that the Indian Foreign Service was a soft career — “ninety per cent alcohol and ten per cent protocol” — is a recent impression. The roots of the service go back to the late 18th century, when political agents from Calcutta boldly played the Great Game, pushing India’s interests all around its periphery.

Venkat’s death in Kabul reminds us of Sir Alexander Burnes, nicknamed ‘Bukhara Burnes’, for his exploration of the great city, now in Uzbekistan. During the First Afghan War of 1839-42, Burnes was India’s political agent in Kabul until his assassination in 1841.

Courage is defined as grace under pressure. Burnes is remembered for his cool handling of the disastrous situation in Kabul. Colleagues who worked with Venkat in Kabul recall his total devotion to his job. They speak of the long hours Venkat spent on learning Dari, so that he could be more effective.

Barely a day before his death, Venkat was in New Delhi, telling his friends in South Block about his plans to ask for an extension of his Kabul tour. Venkat was about to complete his two-year tenure in Kabul shortly.

Venkat represented the new face of the Indian Foreign Service. He was among the smarter set that felt it was no big deal serving in dead-beat Western capitals and preferred instead the turbulence of India’s extended neighbourhood.

Venkat was among a score of other IFS recruits who were ready to risk their lives every day in Afghanistan. These young officers volunteered despite the reluctance of Delhi’s babudom to provide them even minimal compensation.

Officers from the IAS and the public sector units working in the Northeast get better insurance cover than those from the IFS like Venkat who put their necks on the line in Afghanistan. So much for India’s empathy for its own heroes.

As New Delhi seeks a larger role in world affairs and chases complex strategic goals in dangerous lands beyond our borders, India will need a lot more officers like Venkat. His death would not be in vain, if New Delhi wakes up to this imperative.