Father, we will meet if I stay alive. The situation is very bad here.’’ It was a casual line that Major Kapil Vinayak scribbled to his father S S N Vinayak in February, just after he was posted to the Valley. But that one sentence will now haunt the retired Captain (honorary) for the rest of his life.
At 3 pm today, Major Kapil’s sister Vandana broke the news to Vinayak Sr over the phone—his 30-year-old son had died in the Srinagar blast, leaving behind his wife and four-year-old son.
For Vinayak Sr, the timing was particularly cruel: his wife had reached the Valley two weeks ago to spend some time with his son.
Tears streaming down his cheeks, Vinayak says: ‘‘What have I done to deserve this? He was too young to die.’’ With a lone tenant and a family friend to console him, the old soldier was virtually incoherent with grief.
It wasn’t meant to be like this, he says, pointing to an air ticket on a table. ‘‘He wanted us to see Srinagar, he’d been inviting us for ages,’’ says Vinayak, adding that he decided to stay back and let his wife Prem go.
Prem reached Srinagar on July 9 with Kapil’s wife Kiran, a teacher at the Army school in Badamibagh, and four-year-old son Harshit. ‘‘They were all set to return on July 23. I was waiting for them, not his body,’’ says Vinayak, breaking down again.
A commerce graduate from DAV College, Jalandhar, and an alumni of St Joseph and Apee Jay School, Kapil had joined the Army Supply Corps seven years ago after clearing the Combined Defence Services exam. ‘‘He was a topper, he could have joined the corporate world, but he wanted to follow in the footsteps of his great-grandfather and father, both Armymen,’’ says Umesh Sehgal, the family friend.