'Maha Vir Chakra. It is one of the highest military honours in our country,' replies Balwant.
'And which is the highest?'
'The PVC or the Param Vir Chakra. It is almost always given posthumously.'
'Which award did you get?' Dhyanesh asks again.
There is a pained expression on Balwant's face. 'I didn't get any for this operation. But this is not the end of my story. I still have to tell you about the famous battle of Mandiala Bridge.'
Mr Wagle looks at his watch. 'Oh, my God, it is past midnight. Chalo chalo, I think we have had enough excitement for the day. The curfew is over. We should now return to our houses.'
Reluctantly, we disperse.
* * *
The next day, we are in the bunker again. Today Mr Bapat's son Ajay is here too. He must have returned from his grandmother's place. He is a big show-off, always boasting about his toys, his computer, his skates, and his numerous girlfriends. We all hate him, but keep it to ourselves. We don't want to quarrel with a fifteen-year-old who looks seventeen. Today he has got a little diary.
He calls it an autograph book. He is showing the other children some scribbles. 'This is Amitabh Bachchan, this is Armaan Ali, that one is Raveena's, this one is the famous batsman Sachin Malvankar's signature.'
'And what about this one?' asks Dhyanesh. He points to a dark squiggle which is completely indecipherable. Ajay thinks about it, and then says sheepishly, 'This is my mother's. She was testing the pen.'
Putul is carrying something with him too, but it is not an autograph book. It is a writing book.
His dad has told him that no school does not mean no studies. Now every day he will have to sit in the bunker and write essays. Today's topic is: 'My cow', even though Putul doesn't have a cow.
On the TV, a military spokesman is giving a briefing. 'Pakistani air strikes against Indian air bases in Ambala, Gorakhpur and Gwalior were successfully neutralized. Indian forces have taken Baghla and Rahimyar Khan. Pakistani forward bases at Bhawalpur, Sukkur and Nawabshah have been completely destroyed and the Shakargarh bulge is under our control. In Chhamb sector, our soldiers have repulsed a massive Pakistani attack to take the Mandiala Bridge.'
We cheer wildly. There is a lot of clapping and shaking of hands.
Balwant Singh is sitting, as before, in front of the TV. 'So they have attacked Mandiala again,' he says with a shake of the head. 'These Pakis never learn from their mistakes.'
It seems to me that Balwant is waiting for someone to ask him about the Mandiala Bridge, but no one takes the bait.
The TV programme changes to a studio debate. Some experts are discussing the war. A bearded man with glasses is saying, 'We all know Pakistan has close to forty nuclear warheads. Just one fifteen-kiloton fission bomb explosion over an urban area with a population density of about 25,000 per square kilometre is sufficient to kill about 250,000 people. Now if you extrapolate this data to Mumbai, where – ' Mr Wagle says, 'The water will become air. The air will become fire. A mushroom cloud will burst into the sky. We will all die.'
Mr Kulkarni switches off the TV. 'This is too depressing,' he says. 'Why don't we listen instead to the inspiring story of our war hero. Balwantji, you were mentioning the battle of Mandiala Bridge yesterday. Please tell us about it.'
Balwant perks up, stretches his arms and hitches up the sleeves. He scratches the stump of his leg, swivels his chair around to face the group, and begins.
'There is a very high escarpment across the Munawar Tawi called Mandiala North. This is where the enemy attacked on the nights of the third and fourth of December, and because we had virtually no troops holding that particular feature, our posts were overwhelmed. Then the Pakis began moving forward with both tanks and infantry towards Mandiala Crossing where I was deployed with 35 Sikh, alongside 19 Para Commando.
'By then we had understood that the key objective of Pakistan's 23rd Division was to capture Mandiala Bridge. Once that happened, we would be forced to abandon Chhamb and all the area west of Tawi. So by midday on the fourth of December we had begun fortifying our position. 31
Cavalry was reinforced by one squadron of the 27th Armoured Regiment, and 37 Kumaon were despatched from Akhnoor to launch a counter-attack to recapture Mandiala North. But tragedy struck when the CO of 37 Kumaon was killed instantly by Pakistani artillery shelling before he could join us. So the battalion was rendered leaderless and reached Tawi only after last light. It was therefore diverted to the east bank, overlooking Mandiala Crossing. And so when night fell only 35 Sikh and the para company of 19 Commando were guarding Mandiala Crossing, together with the tank troops of 31 Cavalry, who were holding Mandiala South.
