Anitha Ravindranath

He was born in Davangere as one of five kids. Even as a child, Ravi was curious about everything, the kind of student who would ask a doubt minutes before the break and make everyone stay back till he understood the answer. In June 1980, he joined the Armed Forces.
And then there is me. I had an entirely civilian childhood, also in Davangere. Schooling was uneventful and I was an academic at heart. My love for teaching began early and today, I am a special educator. When Ravi’s father brought us a proposal for marriage, I barely knew him, even though I was classmates with his sister. A month after the wedding, we moved to Madhya Pradesh and then began my journey of
adjusting to life as an army wife. It was very different from anything I knew. Soon, we moved to Srinagar. Those experiences were something else – I’ve cooked food at 2 AM, lived in restricted areas where we were chaperoned to do grocery shopping only once a month, all sorts of things. Through all the postings and moving, we always wrote letters.
In 1998, he was posted to Kashmir and was commanding 2 Rajputana rifles in Kupwara. In May 1999, when Operation Vijay was announced he moved to Dras sector, Kargil. In the two months of the war, I only heard from him thrice. On the day they announced the victory, he wasn’t happy. He’d lost 23 men under his command, and that was bogging him down. Yet, it was his battalion that was charged with
capturing a strategic point in the Dras sector. He personally led the team under enemy artillery and small arms fire restored the situation, and defeated the counterattacks. He was awarded the Vir Chakra for his service.
In 2001, he retired from the army, from “having all the fun,” as he’d say. He joined his father in the family business and he’d give public speeches as well. April 8th, 2018 was a normal day for us. Like most soldiers who served in Kargil, Ravi was writing a book about his experiences and would work on it every morning. At about 8:30, he said he’d go for a jog. He jogged, came back to the apartment, spoke to the neighbours downstairs and started climbing to the third floor. On the second floor, he collapsed. We rushed him to the hospital but I knew he was gone. His friends from the army came down from all over and behind the scenes, I learnt later that they were requesting a state funeral. It didn’t happen. What saddens me is how soldiers aren’t respected after the war. Col. Magod Basappa Ravindranath was a war hero. To us, he will always be our hero, but shouldn’t he get the respect he deserves from the nation?
Today, I am grateful for the army. No matter how many civilian friends Ravi had, it is his army family that checks in on me and asks if I need anything. After everything they have seen on the field, they truly become family.