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Captain Vikram Batra sharing a light moment with fellow soliders during the 1999 Kargil War. Photo: MOD
A day after television (TV) channels flashed the news of his death on July 7, 1999, a letter from him arrived. It brought with it his smile, his laughter. I read it, smiling through tears. It was so like Luv (the nickname we’ve known Captain Vikram Batra by). Unadulterated, enthusiastic, the grammar slightly off, sharing snippets of his life from the war: “Did you see me on TV? You won’t believe what I have done.” Of course we had. We’d watch, grinning from ear to ear, every time they’d play his interview. His slogan, a challenge to the enemy, had become all the rage: “Yeh Dil Maange More! (The heart wants more).”
He was my brother’s best friend, deeply loved by my family. But then he was impossible not to love. We had last seen him in January that year, when he had come for my wedding. How we had danced. Months later, the Kargil War with Pakistan had broken out and before we knew it, Luv was sent to the front. When he could, he’d write to us, sending us updates through inland letters.
Kargil was India’s first televised conflict. TV reporters brought us news from the battlefield, at times cooped up in bunkers with soldiers. It wasn’t long before the cameras gravitated towards Luv, this young man with an infectious smile whose heroism had led to the capture of a critical feature, Point 5140, setting in motion a string of successes for India.
Next, his battalion, 13 Jammu and Kashmir Rifles (13 JAK RIF), was tasked with capturing Point 4875. Luv, suffering from fatigue and fever, was commanded to rest at the base near the Mushkoh nullah near Dras, Ladakh. That’s where he had probably written his last letter to us from. His battalion succeeded in capturing Point 4875, but an adjacent peak, ‘Area Flat Top’, later named “Batra Top”, also needed to be secured.
It was, but intense enemy counterattacks threatened to undo the gains. So this young man went to his commanding officer, and volunteered. Leading 25 men, also volunteers, he began a night ascent. At first light, under heavy fire, he launched a direct daylight assault, engaging in hand-to-hand combat, crawling towards the enemy, hurling grenades despite having sustained grave injuries. He was trying to rescue a wounded comrade when he took a bullet.
Captain Vikram Batra, codenamed Sher Shah, was awarded the Param Vir Chakra, posthumously. He was 24. At Palampur, his hometown, I placed my half-written letter to him on his body. The town resonated with shouts of “Capt Vikram Batra amar rahein” and “Sher Shah zindabad”. As a mourner started to wail, a soldier who had accompanied his body home looked at her and gently shook his head. “See him off as a hero,” he said. It was a dignified sendoff for a young man who loved deeply, laughed wholeheartedly and smiled often.
Written By
Veenu Sandhu
Veenu Sandhu is the Resident Editor at Business Standard. Based in New Delhi, she has been a journalist since 1996 and has worked in some of India's leading newsrooms across print, digital and television media, including NDTV 24x7, Hindustan Times and The Indian Express. At Business Standard, she writes, commissions, edits, and gives direction to special, in-depth articles for the newspaper and the digital platform across beats and sectors. She also hosts video shows for Business Standard. Before this, she edited BS Weekend. She is a 2017-18 batch Chevening South Asia Journalism fellow.
First Published: Jul 10 2026 | 7:06 AM IST
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