When the North of India plunged into darkness

Escalating conflict between India and Pakistan leads to uncertainty and turmoil in North India, despite recent ceasefire announcement.

As the conflict between India and Pakistan escalated with the launch of Operation Sindoor on May 7, after the fateful Pahalgam terror attack on April 22, the past few days have been marked with uncertainty, turbulence, scrutiny and strife for people in North India. The Government had instructed blackouts for the first time since the Indo-Pak war of 1971 and even though the “stoppage of firing”, which many are calling a ceasefire, announced on May 10, brought in some respite that lasted only a few hours, the situation remains grim and as unpredictable.

At my home, in Chandigarh, everyone was jubilant, preparing for a vacation with their first grandchild. My sister and her four-month-old were visiting the city from Canada and had planned a trip to the Golden Temple, Amritsar, Dehradun and Mussoorie. On May 6, we had left for Amritsar, but soon, on May 9, we had to return to Chandigarh for safety.

Attending to the call of blackout in Punjab, Chandigarh and other regions of North India, the men of the house were guided to bring their black turbans, which were to be used as makeshift curtains. My father, uncles and brother were pressing drawing pins on the top corners of the wooden window fixtures of our house, while the ladies cut and stitched the black turbans into curtains. “Just leave the ends of the thread loose for them to wound around and knot to the drawing pins and quickly make the pleats with a running stitch. Hurry up!,” my mother ordered.

As we obeyed, my father ascended the staircase that leads to the rooftop and examined the neighbourhood. “Ah, the lights in a couple of houses are still switched on. It’s 7pm already. This is beginning to remind me of 1971,” he said.

At this moment, the black curtains were put up as an additional barrier. All the lights were switched off at dinner time. “We were living in the Air Force quarters back then, in 1971, and I remember how young boys had made squads to do a recce of the area. If they spotted any light switched on in any house, they would break the windows by throwing stones at the house. We had also dug up a six-by-four-foot trench in the backyard of our house. Every time the sirens were sounded, we would go and sit in the trench,”  he recalled. My mother added, “In Amritsar, we were served dinner by 5pm and would put black curtains, just like the ones now, on all windows. That time, my father had dug out a tunnel in the backyard and made a small bunker. In case the firing became loud or one heard the sound of too many jets, we would run to the tunnel and hide in the bunker.”

Unlike Amritsar, Chandigarh offered some respite from the continuous buzzing sounds and sonic booms until the clock struck 1.22am on May 9. The blaring sirens woke up my little nephew from his deep sleep and as he started bawling, my sister snuggled closer to him and started to pray. My uncle, father and I woke up too but remained in our beds until the roaring sound (of probably jets) shook us. I ran out of the room, so did my uncle. My father, on the first floor, stood close to the door. “Don’t open the doors. Stay inside. Stand closer to the walls. Hide the baby under the bed if you hear the sound again,” he said.

I looked at my phone for updates, but saw several messages of concern that poured into my inbox from friends and colleagues. With darkness all around, these messages were like a ray of hope, kindness and human spirit that brightened my darkest hour. Soon, everyone’s phones started ringing. My curiosity was beguiled by Air Commodore Harkamal Jeet Singh Sokhey (retired) of the Indian Air Force, my father’s childhood friend. “We last saw such blackouts in December 1971. We saw shelling in Ferozepur; my dad, a garrison engineer, was posted there. Some shells were going across our house. We could also hear firing and the sounds of jets in the sky, which we later came to know were dog fights. We could spot tracer bullets too. It was actually these experiences that later motivated me to join the armed forces,” he shared.