Kargil Vijay Diwas: A Pilgrimage of Patriotism and Pride...

Kargil Vijay Diwas: A Pilgrimage of Patriotism and Pride...

Two years ago, we decided to go on vacation to Leh Ladakh and got the wonderful opportunity to bow our heads at the Kargil War Memorial, Dras where courage had triumphed over treachery. That journey was not just a  travel. It was a pilgrimage that brought me face-to-face with India's bravest sons, their silent stories etched in stone and in the sky.
Kargil can never be  just a dot on the map, it's a sacred chapter of our national memory, where every mountain peak echoes tales of grit, sacrifice, and duty beyond measure.
What made this journey even more unforgettable was that we were led through the memorial and the museum by an Indian Army officer. With poise and pride, he walked us through the chronology of the Kargil War, unfolding each battle, each name, and each mission with reverence. His words weren’t just facts, they were living memories  told with the weight of comradeship and service.
He spoke not from textbooks, but from a soldier’s heart about the cruel terrain which tested not just the body but the soul, about heroes so young, they had barely begun living, and about courage so fierce that it outshone fear.
Between May and July 1999, this stretch of land witnessed one of the toughest high-altitude battles in modern warfare. As we stood before the Wall of Fame, the officer recounted how 545 soldiers laid down their lives under Operation Vijay to reclaim every inch of Indian soil from infiltrators.
The Vijay Path, flanked with busts of Param Vir Chakra and Maha Vir Chakra awardees, stood as a walk through history and heartbreak. Each face told a tale. Each name on the wall was not just a martyr, but a story of honour, love for the nation, and unflinching will.
Among the names, one resonated across the peaks, Param Vir Chakra,  Captain Vikram Batra, PVC. The officer’s voice grew softer yet stronger as he described the battle for Point 4875, now named Batra Top.
Here was a man who looked death in the eye and still moved forward. “Either I will come back after hoisting the tricolour, or I will come back wrapped in it,” he had declared and he did.
Standing near the signpost pointing toward Batra Top, I imagined that daring climb, steep, snow-covered, under enemy fire. I could almost feel his spirit in the wind that swept the valley.
We were also told about Major Rajesh Adhikari, Captain Vijayant Thapar, Lt. Manoj Pandey, Grenadier Yogendra Singh Yadav, and many others. Some were barely 22 years old, but they faced impossible odds with absolute clarity  to defend Bharat Mata at all costs.
Every battle post Tololing, Point 5140, Tiger Hill, and the thunderous Bofors Gun sites came alive through the officer’s account. Operations like Safed Sagar and Shatru Nash weren’t just military manoeuvres, they were stories of coordination, sacrifice and brotherhood across the Army, Navy and Air Force.
The museum visit, too, was led by the same officer. Displayed there were the original battle maps, weapons, letters written home, and even the personal belongings of martyred soldiers. It was here that I truly understood that war is not just fought with guns  it's fought with grit, memory, and commitment. 
One letter by a young officer to his parents had me in tears. These were boys with dreams who gave them up, so ours could survive.
On the previous day after arrival we had gone to Thang village, the last inhabited village near the Indo-Pakistan border. The beauty of the place belied its intense strategic importance. The thrill of being handed binoculars to view Pakistan Army posts and soldiers from a distance was surreal.
From where we stood, we could clearly see enemy bunkers, watchtowers, and the Indian posts facing them. Indian bunkers, camouflaged and solid, stood firm in the rocky terrain ever watchful, ever alert.
Speaking to the locals  who have  heard gunfire, witnessed shelling, and still live with patriotism in their veins added a whole new layer to my understanding of border life. Their resilience, and the unwavering presence of the Indian Army, made me deeply grateful.
As I stood holding the tricolour, the mighty Himalayas standing guard behind me, I was overwhelmed. I had come here as a curious visitor. I left as a witness to sacrifice.
Freedom isn't a gift. It’s a legacy paid for by blood, grit, and eternal vigil.
In memory of Kargil Vijay Diwas, let’s do more than just remember. Let’s remind ourselves, and the generations after us  that the peace we enjoy is protected by men and women who stand at the edge of danger so that we may live safely in its centre.
Let us bow in reverence to the heroes who defended our nation with their unmatched valour. Their sacrifice will always be etched in our hearts.
Jai Hind.
Vande Mataram.

R. Vimala, IAS, 

Compassionate Civil Servant & 

PhD Scholar at IIT Bombay 

A Wave of Pride and Chiief Minister Devendra Fadnavis's Tribute to India's Timeless Civilisations

A Wave of Pride and Chiief Minister Devendra Fadnavis's  Tribute to India's Timeless Civilisations

Yesterday was a day that stirred something deep within me.
I had the rare privilege of being at Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU), New Delhi, for the foundation stone laying ceremony of the Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Special Centre for Security and Strategic Studies, and the inauguration of the Kusumagraj Special Centre for Marathi Language, both graced by Maharashtra’s dynamic Chief Minister, Shri Devendra Fadnavis and Industries & Marathi Language Minister, Shri. Uday Samant.
A wave of nostalgia swept over me as I entered the campus. Thirty years ago, I would often visit JNU to meet a close friend who was studying there. Driving past those familiar paths, surrounded by green trees and brick coloured buildings  brought back warm and vivid memories. The campus still holds its quiet charm, but yesterday, there was something different in the air, a sense of pride and purpose.
The Convention Centre was overflowing, with parliamentarians, students, faculty, and guests gathering to witness the launch of two initiatives that were not only timely but deeply significant.
The highlight of the day was CM Devendra Fadnavis’s speech which was powerful, personal, and intensely full of pride. He spoke with deep reverence about Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj, not just as a historical figure but as a living symbol of courage, wisdom and vision. His powerful description of Shivaji Maharaj's strategic intelligence  and the valour of Marathas who had carried forward his legacy by  strengthening the Maratha  empire across Bharat gave me goosebumps.
One of the most powerful moments was when he spoke about the Maratha naval strength, a fleet so strong and fearless that it kept even the British at bay.
“Much before the British had built their empire on the seas, the Marathas had already hoisted their saffron flags across the Konkan coastline.” he thundered.
It wasn’t just about maritime strength, it was about preserving our sovereignty, our identity, our pride.
He also spoke about the impregnable  forts like  Raigad and the twelve Marartha forts that were recently recognised as UNESCO World Heritage Sites. “These weren’t just stone walls,” he said, “they were the epicentres of Swarajya.”. Having  visited many of these forts  over the years, I suddenly found them to be more alive and sacred.
But what touched me even more was the way he extended this pride beyond Maharashtra. He spoke about the Chola Empire , their naval supremacy and rich cultural legacy with equal reverence. He rightly said that  “From the Marathas to the Cholas, India’s legacy is one of strength, self-rule, and wisdom.”
As someone who believes in the beauty of India’s diverse heritage, this inclusiveness warmed my heart.
CM Fadnavis also made a passionate appeal to take pride in one's mother tongue.
“Language is not only a means of communication, it is the soul of a civilisation, and we must learn to appreciate and respect all languages.
This call to celebrate all Indian languages while honouring one’s own was met with hearty applause.
The event was further elevated by JNU Vice-Chancellor Smt. Shantishri Pandit, who invoked the energy of Shakti, the divine feminine force. Her speech was not just symbolic, it was strong, fearless, and full of conviction. Her presence and words showed that JNU is embracing Bharat’s civilisational heritage with renewed clarity and confidence.
Also present was Shri Uday Samant, Maharashtra’s Industries and Marathi Language Minister, who reaffirmed his commitment to the new Centre for Marathi Studies at JNU. You could feel the emotion behind his words which was full of purpose and pride.
As I stepped out of the Convention Centre, the sky above was golden, reflecting the pride for our rich culture, tradition, resilience and stories that shape who we are.
Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj can never be confined to the pages of textbooks or history. He lives on as a spirit and as CM Fadnavis rightly said,
“He will always be a flame of inspiration for generations to come.”
Yesterday, that flame burned bright in my heart and that of Delhi, and I glowed in it's warmth.  

R. Vimala, IAS, 

Resident Commissioner, Delhi

Compassionate Bureaucrat &

PhD Scholar at IIT Bombay 

A Hug, A Dream, and a Film That Stayed With Me – Tanvi the Great

A Hug, A Dream, and a Film That Stayed With Me – Tanvi the Great

It’s been a while since I stepped into a movie theatre. Life has been busy and honestly, my urge to watch films has slowly dwindled especially with the current trend of loud, violent plots. Once a die-hard Bollywood fan, a romantic and an optimist at heart, I find myself steering clear of bloodbaths and chaotic action. Biopics like Tanaji or Sam Manekshaw still catch my eye, but mostly, the magic of cinema has taken a back seat.

Yesterday, while casually browsing through the BookMyShow website for music shows, I happened to glance at the movie section. One trailer stood out for me, Tanvi the Great - A story about an autistic girl. Something about it felt pure, hopeful. On a whim, my friend, and me decided to go to see it.

And what a beautiful choice it turned out to be.

Tanvi the Great is, quite simply, a gentle breeze in a stormy world of cinema. It is rare these days to find a film that tells a story with grace, simplicity, and a soul.

Tanvi, the young protagonist, is autistic. She’s not here to be pitied, she’s here to be understood. She’s here to shine. Her gestures are thoughtful, her eyes full of intent, and every word she speaks carries meaning. She asks for permission before hugging someone, believes in routine and clings to a dream,  her father’s dream of hoisting the Indian flag on Siachen.

Her father, an army officer, is  martyred. Her mother, raises her single-handedly, navigating grief and the everyday challenges of parenting a neurodiverse child. There’s a quiet strength in her, a resilience that doesn’t demand attention, but earns admiration.

The grandfather, a retired Army officer himself, finds it difficult at first to understand Tanvi. His world was shaped by orders, regimentation, and silence. Hers thrives on empathy, predictability, and soft defiance. Watching their relationship grow, tentative at first, then affectionate is one of the most touching parts of the film. 

The story is further enriched by Boman Irani as Tanvi’s music teacher, bringing charm and sensitivity, and Arvind Swamy as a defence services coaching master, grounding the film in its purpose. Each of them adds depth without taking the spotlight away from Tanvi enacted beautifully by Shubhangi, who is the star, in every sense. Anupam Kher adds emotional grace with his perfect acting  and direction. 

As the film ended and we stepped out of the hall, we were moved. Not overwhelmed, but full, like after eating, a warm bowl of comfort food. 

Outside, a massive crowd had gathered for Saiyaara, the latest potboiler which looked loud, predictable. And here we were, quietly thankful that we chose something different.

I am writing this not as a critic, but as a viewer who reconnected with the joy of meaningful cinema.

 If you are someone who longs for storytelling that doesn’t shout, who cherishes kindness in characters, and who believes in the power of a dream then go to watch Tanvi the Great, specially with your kids. 

It may not have the noise, but it surely has the  soothing voice and that, sometimes, is what truly matters.

R. Vimala, IAS, 

Resident Commissioner,

Compassionate Bureaucrat and PhD Scholar at IIT Bombay

संवाद...

संवाद...

कुछ दिन बन जाते ख़ास

किसी से जब होती बातl

भर जाती मन में आस,

कि जग में अब भी है आँचl

किसी के सतकर्मों की

विश्वास से भरी ऊर्जा कीl

प्रेरणा देती हुई सादगी की,

स्नेह से परीपूर्ण राह की।

शब्दों के निर्मल वाणी सी

मौन की विशेष चुप्पी सी l

संगीत सी गूँजते सुरों की

मंद मुस्कान की लाली सी

थके मन को दे ताजगी भी

नव आरंभ हो जैसे जीवन की

कभी-कभी बस एक संवाद,

बदल देता है मन का स्वाद।

जैसे ऋतु बदल दे कली की बात,

 खिल उठता वैसे दिन वह खास।

ना दिखावा, ना कोई बनावट।

ना छल, ना द्वेष, और ना कपट 

केवल करुणा और प्रेम विशेष

जैसे जीवन में ना कोइ क्लेश

तभी तो कुछ दिन बन जाते ख़ास,

क्योंकि मिल जाता है एक एहसास,

कि दुनिया में अब भी हैं लोग ऐसे,

जो भर देते जीवन को ख़ुशी के पलों से

मन विमल

My First Step into the Wari Tradition in Delhi's Sanketik Wari...

My First Step into the Wari Tradition in Delhi's Sanketik  Wari...

I had always heard of the Wari.
Of the lakhs of devoted warkaris walking for weeks, sometimes months to Pandharpur with hearts full of faith and feet tireless in love for Vitthal and Rakhumai.
I had seen them passing through Pune as a student in the university  and later, as Commissioner for Women and Child Development when I was posted there.
But to be a part of it? I had never imagined that.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, the idea of Wari had always seemed too vast, too spiritual, and honestly, too physically demanding for someone like me.
There were mental hesitations. And now, with the years gone by, I felt I wasn’t even physically fit enough.
Yet, Ashadhi Ekadashi 2025 turned out to be transformative.
As Resident Commissioner at Delhi, I was invited to participate in the Delhi Sanketik Wari,  a symbolic wari organised with devotion and meticulous effort by the Dilli Maharashtra Pratishthan, under the leadership of Shri.Vaibhav Dange and his team. This tradition has been kept alive in Delhi for five years now, uniting the over three lakh strong Maharashtrian diaspora of the capital in collective celebration.
A Google form was shared for registration. I remember hovering over it, unsure, hesitant. But something urged me to fill it. As the day approached, I still hadn’t made up my mind. Was this really for me?
Still, something stirred deep within. I visited the Maha Handloom counter at New Maharashtra Sadan and ordered a traditional outfit just in case.

Even the night before the Wari, I wasn't sure. But on the morning of the event, as if drawn by some unseen force, I found myself at the starting point at 5:45 a.m. sharp. 
Dressed in my new traditional avatar, I stood there not knowing a soul. No one from our office team had arrived yet. I felt a bit awkward, a stranger to this world I had admired from a distance. 
But faith has a way of embracing you gently. I took darshan of Prachin Hanuman at the temple in Connaught Place which was the starting point of the Wari. 
Having received the blessings of Lord Hanuman, I walked towards the group and introduced myself to Shri.Dange the main organiser. He and the team greeted me with warmth and joy. Encouraged, I joined the growing dindi. I had told my driver to follow behind. I would walk just symbolically for a few minutes and then return.
But the few minutes turned into an hour, then two. The chants of "Vitthal Vitthal Jai Hari Vitthal" rang in my ears, the rhythm of the dhol-tasha stirred something deep inside, and the sight of the idol of Vitthal in the tempo not only brought inexplicable peace but gave me energy to walk. 
Soon, one of our officials from Maharashtra Sadan joined me on the route. Her presence also boosted my morale and encouraged me to keep walking. Before long, many officers from the Government of India had joined the Wari as well. Seeing familiar faces in unfamiliar settings made me feel at home, and added to the joy of the experience.
I kept walking. Kilometres melted beneath my feet.
By the time we reached the Vitthal Rukmini Temple at R.K. Puram, I had become a part of something so deeply spiritual, so emotionally uplifting, that every thought of physical discomfort had vanished.
There was a sea of devotees waiting to welcome the dindi. The air was festive yet reverent. We played phugdi, watched the ringan, sang abhangas, and danced with joyous abandon. Oblivious to my sore feet, I participated wholeheartedly with the enthusiastic bhaktas.
As Resident Commissioner, I was graciously felicitated by the organising committee. But the real honour was yet to come, to be allowed inside the sanctum sanctorum and join in the aarati of Vitthala himself. It was a moment of great blessing which I had never experienced before.  
And then came the prasad, the simplest, most soul-satisfying meal of sabudana khichadi, bhagar, and taak (buttermilk) which tasted like divinity.
This Ashadhi was unlike any other in my life.
No, I hadn't walked  hundreds of kilometres across the winding paths of Maharashtra to Pandharpur but I had taken the first step and it led me to divine and  sacred blessings in this Sanketik Wari in India's capital. 
I now understand why lakhs walk each year.
Why they sing through the pain, dance despite the blisters, and call out to Vitthal from the depths of their heart. 
That day, under the Delhi sky, surrounded by the love and devotion of strangers who became companions and colleagues who became co-devotees my heart too sang,
Jai Hari Vitthal...Jai Hari Vitthal ! Jai Jai Ram Krishna Hari...Jai Jai Ram Krishna Hari with a hope that some day similarly Vitthal Mauli would lead me to Pandharpur...

Bengal Mango Mela & Handloom Handicraft Expo 2025 : A Walk Through Bengal’s Soul at Janpath – Mangoes, Weaves & Warmth

Bengal Mango Mela & Handloom Handicraft Expo 2025 : A Walk Through Bengal’s Soul at Janpath – Mangoes, Weaves & Warmth

Ever since I received the invitation to the Mango Mela being organised by the Government of West Bengal I was excited. Who does not want to experience the specialities of any state and that too from the culturally rich Bengal in the comfort of a place near your own home? Yet I never imagined that visiting the  Bengal Mango Mela and Handloom Handicrafts Expo would be stepping in a place where my senses came alive with flavours and colours.
As I stepped into Handloom Haat, Janpath, a soft breeze carried with it the scent of ripe mangoes along with the rustle of cotton and silk fabric. It was as if a slice of Bengal had been gently transplanted into the heart of Delhi and I had just walked right into it.
This wasn't just an exhibition, it was a journey through time, taste, and tradition.
The handloom and handicrafts stalls spread over two floors jostled for attention with their colourful display of Tangail or Jamdani weavers displaying their beautiful collection.
Nearby hung Balu Chori sarees, soft yet structured, perfect for summer evenings. The Kantha embroidered dupattas and blouses told tales stitched over hours, days sometimes months. Every thread was a narrative.
I touched soft Kolkata cottons, flipped through stacks of stoles, admired the bold red-and-black patterns on handwoven blouses. There were bags, pouches, bamboo fans and wooden cutlery.
The earthy Patta Chitra scrolls, whispered  Bengal’s stories in lines and colours. As I  looked at them with admiration an artist  sang the story painted on the scroll in his beautiful voice,  praying to Durga Ma seeking her blessings.
As we moved ahead I was drawn by the  aromas of food in the air. I followed my nose to the food court a wonderland of flavours. Being vegetarian I settled with Luchi with Alur Dom and Raw banana cutlets but the non- vegetarian counters buzzed with Shorshe Ilish (mustard fish) and other delicacies. There was a stall selling Mango Sandesh, Mango Kheer and rosogollas with a mango twist. Tea of various flavours as well as pickles, chutneys and condiments were also available.
In a quieter corner, I found a display by Sundarini Organic, a collective of women from the Sundarbans, bringing organic dairy and produce directly to consumers.
I read about how their cows are fed with pesticide-free green fodder, how herbal medicine replaces antibiotics, and how the community works with pride. It wasn't just milk but an empowered livelihood. A QR code on the banner led to an app. "You can order online too".
The second floor had  some more   interesting stalls of clothes and  artefacts. However the main attraction is the Mango Outlet on the second floor where I was greeted by towering crates of golden Malda mangoes  Himsagar, Langra, Fazli, Laxmanbhog etc, all glowing like jewels. Farmers proudly spoke of their journey: how these mangoes travelled farm-to-market, grown organically in Bengal’s fertile soil.
Tasting one slice felt like biting into Bengal’s summer sun, juicy, sweet, and deeply satisfying. And one doesn’t have to worry about the heat since the exhibition is spread out on two floors in the air-conditioned premise of Handloom House.
Kudos to the Resident Commissioner of West Bengal, IAS Ujjani Datta Madam for beautifully converging efforts across departments especially the Horticulture Department  to bring the best of Bengal to Delhi. The freshest varieties of Malda mangoes, curated with care, and a stunning showcase of handicrafts, handlooms, and folk art stand as a tribute to Bengal’s rich heritage. As I walked out, hands full of mangoes and heart full with stories, I couldn’t help but smile.
This expo is not just an event; it is a heartfelt support system for weavers, artisans, self-help groups, and cooperatives, empowering local communities while delighting urban hearts and a celebration of craft and courage.
I heard that on 6th July there would be evening performances of tribal dances from Purulia, vocal recitals by children, and the beloved folk band DOHAR. I have made a mental note to return.
If you’re in Delhi before 8th July, don’t miss this immersive experience. It’s not just about mangoes or sarees  it’s about Bengal’s beating heart, laid bare in colour, warmth, and soul.

R. Vimala, IAS,
Resident Commissioner,
Compassionate Civil Servant and PhD Scholar at IIT Bombay