Since Father's words were worth a thousand crores when it came to patriotism, the song stayed at the bottom of my heart. Two kids were born to me and as they grew up, the same tradition continued. Once that song came on AIR. "Listen to it carefully," me and my mother-in-law said in a chorus. Then she added,"You know, Chacha Nehru cried when she sang this song." I remember my daughter smiled but my son stood solemnly. Probably it was a case of inheritance -- of crocodile tears, stiff face! Or probably not.

But post-Kargil, my sentiments have taken a somersault. Why? Because I happened to meet Lance Naik Tukaram Jadhav recently. He had nothing to do with the Kargil operations. But he had everything to do with the 1965 Indo-Pak conflict. He belonged to the Maratha Light Infantry and fought bravely in the Barmer sector. In a mine blast, he lost both his hands and one eye. But, he did not lose his life, you see! So he did not become a martyr, so he can't be included in one of the "unnamed, innumerable" martyrs for whom Lata Didi sang.

There's no one to cry for Jadhav, not even himself. Because soldiers don't cry. There's no one to sing for Jadhav's courage, because he should consider himself fortunate that he is not dead. His precious life is his and his family's till he breathes his last, not in war now, but inpeace.

At that time, Jadhav was 32 years old. His pension when he was relieved from the Indian Army was Rs 86. Now, after 34 years, it is a handsome Rs 3,000. Why pension, the Southern Command magnanimously provided him a paan kiosk in Pune Cantonment. The state government allotted a small home in a flood-rehabilitation scheme. The army supplied him artificial hands and provides free medical care. Wow!

Yet, he, his wife and four children lived a hand-to-mouth existence. And are still making two ends meet. Even after 34 years. Jadhav's artificial hands were of no use. They were so heavy that they had to be shelved in his cupboard. The free medical facilities are of no use, since Jadhav cannot withstand the 8 km bus journey. Or the bureaucratic hassle in the military hospital, where a living ex-soldier has to stand in long, rude queues.

So, Jadhav burns a hole in his pocket for medical treatment. With no money to refurbish his kiosk, he had shut it down for four months. And that's when I met him. Thecantonment authorities have forgotten his noble sacrifice and had recently threatened to raze his paan kiosk for road widening. Thankfully, good samaritans contributed cash and ensured that his kiosk was re-opened after we published an article on his plight. The Pune cantonment authorities too have withdrawn any threats to uproot it.

But I think the Nightingale of India should now devote a song to the thousands of disabled soldiers who live a life of distress. Because their qurbani is no less than that of a martyr's.