E-mails from all over the country flay Indians8217; for ignoring Kargil

When flying over Kargil at 18,000 feet the jawan is just 1,000 feet above intruders armed with American Stinger missiles. He can easily be shot down. Yet they do it for their country. Did the cricketers have the country and a hypnotised people in mind when they failed to enter the World Cup semi-final, which was viewed as an epic tragedy?

A person in Bihar offered 111 coconuts and intended to offer 1,00,001 coconuts more. A large corporate house and BJP men offered prayers at Sidhi Vinayak temple and distributed prasad. A youth from Gujarat went on a fast. For what? Not for ensuring the safety of the soldiers or victory in war but for India8217;s win in the World Cup!

When one US Marine dies America gets traumatised. The sight of body bags in the Iraqi war sent shivers down the collective spine of America. Here Flt Lt Ahuja was tortured and killed by Pakistan. The last rites were performed by his four-year-old son. Lt Col Viswanathan and Capt Vikram and others were given tearful adieus, captured by the visual media. Six soldiers were subjected to barbaric torture by Pakistan, their eyeballs gouged out, noses and even genitals chopped off and bodies riddled with cigarette burns, and sent to India violating all international norms. Except media rhetoric, has it spawned a collective fury? Or revulsion? Or devastating angst, as when India could not make four runs in seven balls against Zimbabwe? A topic of still endless discussion among avid cricket fans.

The e-mailer asks: Have we failed our country? This is not the only e-mail that is flooding newspaper offices. Says another: In Batalik the air is rarefied, the lungs scream for oxygen. That is where Indian soldiers are fighting the enemy, facing bullets, dying alone in snow, falling to lonely death from high ridges.

No other soldier in the world fights at these heights, climbing, clambering, crawling, carrying 20 kg of his week8217;s ration and ammunition in his backpack. Ignoring the raw unalloyed terror in his guts posed by the hidden enemy. But the overwhelming fear is that you may never see your eight-year-old daughter again, with her pony tail and an infectious smile that lights up your world8230;that you may never hear her giggles, she may never climb on your shoulder again, throw her dolls in anger or paint the walls in doodles 8230;the fear that you may never be there for her. quot;That is the fear. Not being there. Death is not what matters. What matters is that you will not matter anymore. Yet soldiers go up the hills, to keep their tryst with destiny.quot;

quot;They are brave, these soldiers, brave in facing death in the face of fear, facing bullets. So many have already died. Let not their death go waste. Let our concern not be wasted in just a war memorial to the unknown soldier. Let us contribute to serve our people who serve our nation bravely, to rehabilitate the families,quot; pleads the e-mail.

There are plenty of such e-mails. A host of letters too. Response to the call of this paper for donation to the Kargil fund is tremendous, with money pouring in, and cheques drawn in the name of the Kargil Victims Relief Trust. Donations are also sought for the Army Central Welfare Fund, to be sent to Dy Director CW-8, Adjutant General8217;s branch, Army HQ, West Block, R K Puram, New Delhi. But is this enough?