A salute beyond national lines: Pakistani officer’s tribute to an Indian pilot

By Shamsul Islam 

Dr Vikas Bajpai, Assistant Professor at the Centre for Social Medicine and Community Health, Jawaharlal Nehru University, recently posted a message to the WhatsApp group of students of the Centre which he had received from an old friend of Virender Dahiya, a trade union activist with the Indian Federation of Trade Unions.

Releasing the message for public view, Bajpai said he was especially thankful to him for sharing a soulful obituary written by a Pakistani Air Force officer for his Indian counterpart, Wing Commander Namansh Syal, who died a few days ago in an air crash during an aerobatic display at an international air show in Dubai. “I cannot testify to the original source of this obituary,” he noted, adding that he nevertheless felt an “intense impulse to share it with others because of the scope of ‘fiza’ it left over on me.”

Stating that he could never thank Dahiya enough for sending him the obituary, Bajpai said, “I felt it so intensely that I could immediately hug in tight embrace this Air Commodore from across the border for having further refined my humanity, among all things, by simply writing an obituary. Alas, I cannot fulfil even this much of my wish for reasons more than the physical distance—reasons we all know.”

He added, “Even as I am overwhelmed by tears, I can only convey to Air Commodore Pervez Akhtar Khan, if at all possible, that it’s not just a professional speaking, but a true human recognizing another human across any divide.”

Releasing the obituary, Bajpai remarked, “I couldn't be more fortunate if one were to realize the difference between the real skies that know no barriers and the skies that throttle within the 56-inch bloated bosoms of some leaders.”

---

A Salute Across Skies

The news of an Indian Air Force Tejas falling silent during an aerobatic display at the Dubai Air Show breaks something deeper than headlines can capture.

Aerobatics are poetry written in vapor trails at the far edge of physics—where skill becomes prayer, courage becomes offering, and precision exists in margins thinner than breath.

These are not performances for cameras; they are testimonies of human mastery, flown by souls who accept the unforgiving contract between gravity and grace in service of a flag they would die defending.

To the Indian Air Force, and to the family now navigating an ocean of absence, I offer what words can never carry—condolence wrapped in understanding that only those who’ve worn wings can truly know. A pilot has not merely fallen. A guardian of impossible altitudes has been summoned home. Somewhere tonight a uniform hangs unworn. Somewhere, a child asks when father returns. Somewhere, the sky itself feels emptier.

What wounds me beyond the crash, beyond the loss, is the poison of mockery seeping from voices on our side of a border that should never divide the brotherhood of those who fly.

This is not patriotism—it is the bankruptcy of the soul. One may question doctrines, challenge strategies, even condemn policies with righteous fury—but never, not in a universe governed by honour, does one mock the courage of a warrior who was doing his duty in the cathedral of sky.

He flew not for applause but for love of country, just as our finest do. That demands reverence, not ridicule wrapped in nationalist pride gone rancid.

I too have watched brothers vanish into silence—Sherdil Leader Flt Lt Alamdar and Sqn Ldr Hasnat—men who lived at altitudes where angels hold their breath, men who understood that the sky demands everything and promises nothing.

In the moment an aircraft goes quiet, there are no nationalities, no anthems, and no flags. There is only the terrible democracy of loss, and families left clutching photographs of men who once touched clouds.

A true professional recognizes another professional across any divide.

A true warrior—one worthy of the title—salutes courage even when it wears the wrong uniform, flies the wrong colours, speaks the wrong tongue.

Anything less diminishes not them, but us. Our mockery stains our own wings, dishonours our own fallen, makes hollow our claims to valour.

Let me speak clearly: courage knows no passport. Sacrifice acknowledges no border. The pilot who pushes his machine to its screaming limits in service of national pride deserves honour—whether he flies under saffron, white and green, or under green and white alone.

May the departed aviator find eternal skies beyond all turbulence, where machines never fail and horizons stretch forever.

May his family discover strength in places language cannot reach, in the knowledge that their loss illuminates something sacred about human courage.

And may we—on both sides of lines drawn in sand and blood—find the maturity to honour what deserves honouring, to mourn what deserves mourning, and to remember that before we are citizens of nations, we are citizens of sky—all of us temporary, all of us mortal, all of us trying to touch something infinite before gravity reclaims us.

The sky grieves without borders.

Let us do the same.

— Air Commodore Pervez Akhtar Khan

Translated from original Urdu, rendered in Devnagri script.

---

Formerly with Delhi University, Prof Islam’s writings and video interviews/debates can be accessed at: http://du-in.academia.edu/ShamsulIslam. Facebook: https://facebook.com/shamsul.islam.332. Twitter: @shamsforjustice. Blog: http://shamsforpeace.blogspot.com/