Tawang IAF helicopter crash: A scar forever.

All dreams crashed in these densed forests of Arunachal Pradesh
 for the families of Prahlad, Apendra and other onboard.

It is a bit personal. Don’t even know should I add it in the blog or not but this is something I wish I had not heard of or perhaps few of my friends could find solace here.

In a delighted though of being on leave for next few days when I was planning my leave at 1 o’clock at noon this day, two of my colleagues were trying to defy the ultimate truth; the death at an altitude of perhaps 4 kilometers mid air. Up an altitude to more than 4000 meters in the extreme east of India, on a routine maintenance sortie in Mi-17 Helicopter of Indian Air force in Arunachal Pradesh when the chopper crashed. Arunachal Pradesh is a state of India about which rests of the Indians only know about; they know China, yet, for me it is a different story. I know Arunachal Pradesh very well but being there for more than three years and working closely in those rugged mountains I never thought that those adorable mountains will have something for me in future; precisely on 19 Nov 2010 when I will mourn for the death of two of my close friends who lost their lives for something they took oath for the cause; the country, India.

In Mumbai, when I came back at home I had this news waiting for me that one Mi-17 helicopter in Arunachal Pradesh had crashed killing all 12 personnel on board. I had not glanced on TV but the words Mi-17 and Tawang, Arunachal Pradesh were enough for me that the ill fated chopper was from one of the units of Indian Air force in eastern region and I might be knowing someone in those unfortunate 11 Air force personnel killed; a fact I was sort of reluctant to accept. And by the evening one of my online colleague had this news for me that Prahlad Singh and Apendra  Bhandari were no more.

I am numb and speechless for I just can not accept that just month back I had talked to them and from today onwards I will never find them again anywhere in this world. It is more than just a shock.

May god grant your soul the ultimate peace my friends all I have to offer even somewhere in the corner of heart, it arises often; may be the news is false! But all these friends telling this simultaneously can not be wrong. Today when I realize that they are no more, I just wish to remember them for good. They were close to us then when together we were and closer when they left us behind; mourning. There memory will always remain part of our so far journey; always!

Third from right in yellow white T, P Singh was a reservoir
 of untamed energy

Just being jolly if someone could learn from anybody was Prahlad Singh. We called him P Singh, the name he was so accustomed to, that he opened his orkut id with P Singh itself. Years junior than me, he had always some cracking news and something to share always, a hope for better future and opportunities all around he would find exciting. He was fond of partying and he loved fashion, loved his job and more than anything he had; he disliked nothing and none.
And thinking of  Apendra Bhandari! What a philosopher he was. Today I decode the serenity on his face because now I know he had a very short span of life with him. He was like an ocean if you observed him. He was a smiling Buddha I would call him. He had every motion in a specified pace and rhythm and he seemed never disturbed and in hurry. He loved music and had a philosophy which he never discussed to anyone. Often when as a senior I chuckled him he never rebuked in place of which he had an innocent smile. Guys he never complained!

Bhandari in the center, as said was like Lake placid.

And today I find them no more on this earth! Stop here please. Let me hear the laugh of P Singh. Let me visulise him asking for a cigarette. Let me be in that railway compartment listening him how the girl next seat got impressed with him. Let me see the P Singh drenched in sweat just down from the Aircraft and telling me how his two year old daughter had done something naughty. Let Bhandari be moving in his own pace. Let him tell me how his new cell phone functioned! Let me see him seated next to the small sofa above which a noisy fan kept on cranking. Let me visulise Bhandari dancing in party and his i-pod headphones on his shoulders thrown carelessly.

Let both the braves be on their ultimate journey.

Unexpected, unwelcomed, untimely though.

A bitter truth, sooner or later to be accepted. This is something without option.

Death comes and we find someone among us missing. Annoyed; we try to find him in pictures, conversations, surrounding.

But we just pretend to forget the ultimate truth. That the same is going to happen with us one day. We are the slaves of the master.

We live in a mirage and we live by this illusion till life ends one day abruptly.

No offence let me mourn for my two brave brothers!