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A PAF pilot's tale
On September 7, 1965 - day one of the Indo-Pak war - Squadron Leader Alam Siddiqui of the Pakistan Air Force said goodbye to his 21-year-old bride and took off from Karachi.
He flew into the enemy territory in his B-57 bomber, never to return again.
"The day he died, he came home to tell us the war had started. He asked my mom to look after us. I was happy he was doing some service to the country. It was the last time that I saw him. I saw his plane take off, says Squadron Leader Alam Siddiqui's widow, Shenaz.
Shenaz remembers her husband as someone whose intensity of love was very strong. "I was too young to respond. I wish he was alive so that I could respond to it," she says.
After his death life for this 21-year-old came to a complete standstill. The only source of strength came from friends and family.
Alam's best friend, Najeeb Khan, who was also from the same squadron, says, "It never comes to into our mind that we're seeing someone for the last time. There is an internal optimism about life as an Airforce pilot. When I came back from my mission, my OC told me that Alam hadn't returned."
He believes that an anti-aircraft gun must have hit Alam's plane.
"After 5 months, when some prisoners were exchanged, they sent his wallet back with my photo in it. I knew he had crashed in Jamnagar, but I thought they would send his body back if he was dead. Since they did not, I though he was still alive," remembers Shenaz.
For the next 40 years, Shenaz kept alive with the hope that Alam would return. One day, five years had passed, her mother suggested that she remarry.
"I got remarried but told my second husband that I was still in love with Alam. My husband was a good man. He said if Alam returns, he would be the first one to hand me over to him. Even in my second husband's home, there were photos of Alam," she says.
Najeeb's wife Surriya says, "Many war widows remarried, but they never forget their first husbands. After all, first love always remains."
Love knows no boundaries and understands no reason. Does it? Otherwise why would a Pakistani woman, sitting in Toronto watching an Indian film, think that Squadron Leader Veer Pratap Singh in reel life could perhaps be Squadron Leader Siddiqui Alam in real life.
Shenaz confesses that when she saw Veer Zaara in Toronto, she was very depressed.
"Shani kept saying - Najeeb bhai, do you think Alam is alive in the Indian jails somewhere. I knew it couldn't be true. But just to put a final chapter to the to the whole sad event, I wrote to Yash Chopra, the air chief and Shahrukh Khan," says Najeeb.
"I wrote a mail that Alam had been killed in 65, but his wife hadn't reconciled. It's my duty and wish to bring a closure. I wanted to know if Alam had been killed, if there was a grave and if they could help us with visas," he says.
And Najeeb's request was well-accepted. "The way he wrote the mail that he had crossed the sound barrier but he was not sure if he could cross the barrier of the heart. He said that he wanted to do this for his friend's wife. It struck an emotional chord in me," says the air chief.
"I did research based on his request. This had come from one collegue to another, so it was special. I am an air warrior, I've taken part in these wars. I could understand these sentiments," he added.
Old records were opened, history was delved into and villagers questioned. "It took us a while. Whatever info we got, we wrote to Najeeb bhai, says the air chief.
The investigation carried out by the Indian Airforce confirmed what Shenaz had never wanted to believe for for decades - Squardon Leader Alam Siddiqui's B-57 bomber, stacked with explosives, had crashed in a field near Jamnagar in Gujarat.
Nothing remained of either the plane or the pilot. There was no grave, no epitaph for this Pakistani pilot who died on the first day of the 65 war.
Just a field that became a shrine of the fighter pilot she had loved and lost miles away from her hometown, in a small village in Jamnagar in Gujarat.
There was no doubt in Shehnaaz's mind that this was one pilgrimage she had to make. Even if it meant that this journey would dash the very hopes that Shehnaaz had clung on to all these years. And here's where the story begins.
"All the way in my flight from Toronto to India, I kept thinking that maybe the investigation has gone wrong somewhere. Alam is still alive," says Shenaz.
"I have always wanted to come to Jamnagar in my alternate reality. I have often thought that I would be here one day and I would find him here," she adds.
And when she reached Jamnagar, she did find him here, though not in the way she had hoped to.
In her conversation with the investigation officer, Shehnaaz asked him of how the crash took place and if any of the villagers were hurt.
"No, ma'am. Nothing like that happened. The village was evacuated. It wasn't his mistake," he asnwered.
At the site where a Pakistani Airforce plane crashed with the pilot on board, an Indian Airforce officer comforts the widow of the supposed enemy.
This is where borders cease to exist. Sometimes it doesnt matter which flag you wear on your chest as long as you have a soldiers heart beating inside you.
"Alam was born in India, but he couldn't visit India often. He often told me that he would bring me to the Taj Mahal since it symbolised eternal love. He said he would share the same sentiment of love with me there," says Shenaz.
Alam's friend, Najeeb confesses, "The sadness hasn't gone away. But we know that we did whatever we could in this context."
Overwhelmed by the help provided by the Air Chief, Najeeb saluted to the Air Chief. "I had not saluted any one in a long time, but with my full heart, I salute you with honour and dignity," he said to the Air Chief.
As she visited the Amar Jawan Jyoti at New Delhi, she paid homage not just Indian soldiers, but to their families as well, who shared the same pain with her even though the borders separated them.
"We are the same people, the same region, sharing the same culture. This war, it's so useless. It's the common people like us who lose. I hope there's never any war between the two countries. I hope nobody else suffers like me," Shenaz appeals.
On September 7, 1965 - day one of the Indo-Pak war - Squadron Leader Alam Siddiqui of the Pakistan Air Force said goodbye to his 21-year-old bride and took off from Karachi.
He flew into the enemy territory in his B-57 bomber, never to return again.
"The day he died, he came home to tell us the war had started. He asked my mom to look after us. I was happy he was doing some service to the country. It was the last time that I saw him. I saw his plane take off, says Squadron Leader Alam Siddiqui's widow, Shenaz.
Shenaz remembers her husband as someone whose intensity of love was very strong. "I was too young to respond. I wish he was alive so that I could respond to it," she says.
After his death life for this 21-year-old came to a complete standstill. The only source of strength came from friends and family.
Alam's best friend, Najeeb Khan, who was also from the same squadron, says, "It never comes to into our mind that we're seeing someone for the last time. There is an internal optimism about life as an Airforce pilot. When I came back from my mission, my OC told me that Alam hadn't returned."
He believes that an anti-aircraft gun must have hit Alam's plane.
"After 5 months, when some prisoners were exchanged, they sent his wallet back with my photo in it. I knew he had crashed in Jamnagar, but I thought they would send his body back if he was dead. Since they did not, I though he was still alive," remembers Shenaz.
For the next 40 years, Shenaz kept alive with the hope that Alam would return. One day, five years had passed, her mother suggested that she remarry.
"I got remarried but told my second husband that I was still in love with Alam. My husband was a good man. He said if Alam returns, he would be the first one to hand me over to him. Even in my second husband's home, there were photos of Alam," she says.
Najeeb's wife Surriya says, "Many war widows remarried, but they never forget their first husbands. After all, first love always remains."
Love knows no boundaries and understands no reason. Does it? Otherwise why would a Pakistani woman, sitting in Toronto watching an Indian film, think that Squadron Leader Veer Pratap Singh in reel life could perhaps be Squadron Leader Siddiqui Alam in real life.
Shenaz confesses that when she saw Veer Zaara in Toronto, she was very depressed.
"Shani kept saying - Najeeb bhai, do you think Alam is alive in the Indian jails somewhere. I knew it couldn't be true. But just to put a final chapter to the to the whole sad event, I wrote to Yash Chopra, the air chief and Shahrukh Khan," says Najeeb.
"I wrote a mail that Alam had been killed in 65, but his wife hadn't reconciled. It's my duty and wish to bring a closure. I wanted to know if Alam had been killed, if there was a grave and if they could help us with visas," he says.
And Najeeb's request was well-accepted. "The way he wrote the mail that he had crossed the sound barrier but he was not sure if he could cross the barrier of the heart. He said that he wanted to do this for his friend's wife. It struck an emotional chord in me," says the air chief.
"I did research based on his request. This had come from one collegue to another, so it was special. I am an air warrior, I've taken part in these wars. I could understand these sentiments," he added.
Old records were opened, history was delved into and villagers questioned. "It took us a while. Whatever info we got, we wrote to Najeeb bhai, says the air chief.
The investigation carried out by the Indian Airforce confirmed what Shenaz had never wanted to believe for for decades - Squardon Leader Alam Siddiqui's B-57 bomber, stacked with explosives, had crashed in a field near Jamnagar in Gujarat.
Nothing remained of either the plane or the pilot. There was no grave, no epitaph for this Pakistani pilot who died on the first day of the 65 war.
Just a field that became a shrine of the fighter pilot she had loved and lost miles away from her hometown, in a small village in Jamnagar in Gujarat.
There was no doubt in Shehnaaz's mind that this was one pilgrimage she had to make. Even if it meant that this journey would dash the very hopes that Shehnaaz had clung on to all these years. And here's where the story begins.
"All the way in my flight from Toronto to India, I kept thinking that maybe the investigation has gone wrong somewhere. Alam is still alive," says Shenaz.
"I have always wanted to come to Jamnagar in my alternate reality. I have often thought that I would be here one day and I would find him here," she adds.
And when she reached Jamnagar, she did find him here, though not in the way she had hoped to.
In her conversation with the investigation officer, Shehnaaz asked him of how the crash took place and if any of the villagers were hurt.
"No, ma'am. Nothing like that happened. The village was evacuated. It wasn't his mistake," he asnwered.
At the site where a Pakistani Airforce plane crashed with the pilot on board, an Indian Airforce officer comforts the widow of the supposed enemy.
This is where borders cease to exist. Sometimes it doesnt matter which flag you wear on your chest as long as you have a soldiers heart beating inside you.
"Alam was born in India, but he couldn't visit India often. He often told me that he would bring me to the Taj Mahal since it symbolised eternal love. He said he would share the same sentiment of love with me there," says Shenaz.
Alam's friend, Najeeb confesses, "The sadness hasn't gone away. But we know that we did whatever we could in this context."
Overwhelmed by the help provided by the Air Chief, Najeeb saluted to the Air Chief. "I had not saluted any one in a long time, but with my full heart, I salute you with honour and dignity," he said to the Air Chief.
As she visited the Amar Jawan Jyoti at New Delhi, she paid homage not just Indian soldiers, but to their families as well, who shared the same pain with her even though the borders separated them.
"We are the same people, the same region, sharing the same culture. This war, it's so useless. It's the common people like us who lose. I hope there's never any war between the two countries. I hope nobody else suffers like me," Shenaz appeals.