The story of Squadron Leader Hassan Siddiqui's bravery on February 27 , 2019, symbolises the collective resilience and unwavering spirit of Pakistan, where both military valor and civilian courage converge. The event, marked by Siddiqui’s heroic actions and the dignified treatment of a captured enemy pilot, underscores the nation’s unity in defending its skies and upholding its values of strength and peace.

The auditorium shimmered with pride, the golden glow of chandeliers reflecting off polished floors. Every eye was fixed on Squadron Leader Hassan Siddiqui, standing tall in his crisp uniform. The air was thick with reverence as the President of Pakistan stepped forward, holding the silver medallion of the Tamgha-e-Jurat.
“For your exceptional courage and precision on the 27 of February,” the President announced, his voice resonating through the hall, “and for safeguarding our skies with unparalleled skill, Pakistan salutes you.”
Applause erupted, filling the auditorium like the roar of a victorious storm. Siddiqui’s face remained composed, but his eyes gleamed with the quiet satisfaction of a man who had done his duty.
Bakhtawar leaned closer to the television in her family’s modest home in Bhimber, Azad Kashmir, her heart swelling with pride as she watched the ceremony unfold. Nimra, her childhood friend sitting beside her, clutched a pillow, her eyes never leaving the screen.
“Do you think he ever imagined this moment?” Bakhtawar asked softly.
Nimra smiled. “Maybe not. But on that day, when he took down their jets, he was writing history with every move.”
Bakhtawar nodded, her mind drifting back to that fateful day when the skies over their valley had become a battlefield. It was not just Siddiqui’s skill that had shone—it was the resilience of everyone who called this land home.
Flashback: 27 February 2019
The morning had begun like any other in Horan, a small village near Bhimber. Farmers were tending to their fields, children played by the streams, and the mountains stood as silent witnesses to the day. But then, the air erupted with the sound of jets slicing through the sky.
Mohammad Razzaq and Mohammad Rafiq, two local farmers, were the first to see the parachute descending. A figure tangled in its cords, landed awkwardly in their fields, smoke trailing from the distant wreckage. As they approached, they saw a man in a flight suit, his face smudged with dirt and his mustache a dramatic curl.
“Who are you?” Razzaq asked, his voice steady despite the tension crackling in the air.
The man raised his hands, his voice shaking but firm. “I am Wing Commander Abhinandan Varthaman of the Indian Air Force.”
For a moment, there was silence, save for the rustling of the wind. Then, Rafiq stepped forward. “You’re not in India anymore,” he said. “You’ve landed in Pakistan.”
Back in Bakhtawar’s living room, the two girls scrolled through their phones, revisiting the events of that day. A viral clip showed Abhinandan standing calmly with a cup of tea, his composure striking despite the circumstances. “‘The tea is fantastic,’” Bakhtawar quoted with a grin. “Imagine saying that in the middle of all this.”
Nimra laughed. “It’s a story he’ll never forget. And neither will we.”
The pride of the nation not only came from Siddiqui’s heroic act but also from the dignity with which Pakistan treated its captured adversary. Abhinandan was handed over to the authorities and, later, returned to India as a gesture of peace. Yet, the message was clear: Pakistan would defend its skies, its land, and its people with unwavering resolve. “Do you think he’ll remember the people who found him?” Bakhtawar asked.
“Of course,” Nimra replied. “Razzaq and Rafiq were unarmed, yet they stood firm. It’s not just about weapons, Bakhtawar. It’s about the spirit of this land. “Back to the ceremony as the medal was pinned onto Squadron Leader Hassan Siddiqui’s chest, the auditorium stood in collective silence, hearts swelling with pride. Siddiqui stepped forward to speak, his voice steady but filled with emotion.
“This medal is not just mine,” he said. “It belongs to every soldier, every farmer, every citizen who stands for this country. On the 27 of February, we did not just protect our skies. We showed the world who we are—a nation united in courage, resilience, and dignity.”
Later that evening, Bakhtawar and Nimra stood on the terrace of Bakhtawar’s home, gazing out at the valley. The Jhelum River wound its way through the hills like a silver ribbon, and the stars above seemed brighter than ever.
“Do you think we’ll ever have a day like that again?” Bakhtawar asked.
Nimra shook her head. “Not like that. But there will be other days, other moments. This valley has a way of weaving its own stories, doesn’t it?”
Bakhtawar smiled, her heart full. “It does. And no matter what happens, we’ll always be here to tell them.”
The wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it the echoes of a day when their valley had stood tall, a beacon of resilience and hope. For Bakhtawar, Nimra, and everyone who called this land home, the story of 27 February would forever be a testament to the strength of their skies, their soil, and their souls.
Under these heavens and across this land so grand,

We rise as one, to defend and stand.

With courage as our shield, and resolve as our sword,

In unity, our strength, and in peace, our reward. HH

The writer is a lawyer by profession and a writer at heart, deeply passionate about literature. Beyond the courtroom, I find solace in crafting stories, cooking, gardening, and nurturing young minds—pursuits that fuel my creativity and storytelling.
Email: [email protected]