THE SKY OUTSIDE MY WINDOW is overcast at the height of a muggy Kochi summer. But the rain has been playing coy. All colours are washed out thanks to the glowering sky, leaving pale imitations behind.
I feel like I am at a house that death has visited. And I am standing at the door with a heavy heart and an empty mouth, with no words to console anyone or even to describe the grief that sits heavy on us all.
Only water separates me from the horror that defiled Baisaran, near Pahalgam, yesterday. The carnage hit that close to home. One of the 26 victims of the terror attack was Lt Vinay Narwal, 26, from Karnal, Haryana. He was posted at the Southern Naval Command in Kochi, across the water from my home. He had served for two years and had been married for just seven days when terrorists shot him down in front of his wife, Himanshi.
Last night, for a long time I looked at the photo of Himanshi sitting on the ground by Vinay’s body. She looked numb and in shock. The backdrop to this heart-wrenching image was the breathtaking meadow that had brought the couple there.
While the photo was already up on social media, it was the Malayala Manorama’s Chief Reporter M.R. Harikumar who identified the couple first and then got confirmed by Navy sources the same evening. The names and the confirmation made it more personal, more painful for me.
I bow my head with the rest of India, and offer my deepest condolences to all bereaved families. May divine peace console you and keep you strong. May the memories of your loved ones be a light to you in the life ahead.
In times like these, one looks inwards and asks, ‘Why do these things happen?’ For me, the answer came from the cover of this issue, where Nobel laureate and chief adviser of the Bangladesh government Muhammad Yunus said: “We are not a country of saints. We are just people.” That statement contains a lot of layers, coming from someone who is trying to bring peace to his burning homeland.
This is Yunus’s most detailed interview with a foreign publication. The interviewer was Chief of Bureau Namrata Biji Ahuja, supported by Photo Editor Salil Bera. The cover story has a range of voices: Mirza Fakhrul Islam Alamgir, BNP secretary general; Dr Shafiqur Rahman, ameer of Jamaat-e-Islami; Nahid Islam, the student revolutionary who now leads the National Citizen Party; and Mohammad Arafat, who was information minister in Sheikh Hasina’s cabinet.
In this issue we also take note of THE WEEK’s Defence Conclave held at the Manekshaw Centre, Delhi. Defence Minister Rajnath Singh inaugurated the conclave, which had Force of the Future as the central theme. My sincere thanks to the minister for gracing the event and inaugurating THE WEEK’s defence microsite. I also thank all eminent panellists who provided the intellectual horsepower that took the conclave beyond sundowner time to cocktail hour!
In this issue, we also mourn Pope Francis through the experiences of Fr William Nellikal, who once lived down the hallway from Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio. Author Philip George traces the Pope’s journey from nightclub bouncer to consoler-at-large.
My elder brother and his family, and my elder son, Amit, and his family had met the Pope at the St Peter’s Square in 2015. My brother recalled, “The Pope mentioned three everyday phrases: May I, Thank You, and Pardon Me. The three words, he said, can work miracles at home, in family life.”
I was deeply moved by Fr Nellikal’s revelation that the Pope often used to bring an uncommon offering for Mother Mary—a football. As a college footballer and fellow football fan, Holy Father, you will be deeply missed in a world that is bleeding, hurt and angry.
And just now, it rained.