India, Dec. 31 -- On December 25, India celebrated the 101st birth anniversary of former Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee. As the Army Chief and Chairman of the Chiefs of Staff Committee during his tenure, I had the good fortune to work with him closely, particularly during the Kargil War. A statesman par excellence, Vajpayee was genteel, soft-spoken, and a great listener. He was a persuasive leader - never dictatorial in our many strategic discussions. My tenure under his leadership was marked by the nuclear weapons tests (Op Shakti), the Lahore Declaration, the Kargil War (Op Vijay), and the rescue mission in Sierra Leone (Op Khukri). On his directions, I also embarked on military-diplomatic missions to Myanmar, Israel, and beyond. During the Kargil War, as Chairman of the Cabinet Committee on Security, Vajpayee initially directed that the Indian armed forces must not cross the Line of Control (LoC) or the international border. When he spoke of this restriction in public, I reasoned with him: If we were unable to fully succeed in our mission within our borders, I would eventually need his permission to cross the LoC elsewhere. Recognising the implications, he acted immediately. That very day, he instructed national security adviser Brajesh Mishra to announce on television: "The decision not to cross the LoC holds good today; we cannot say the same for tomorrow." In the second week of July 1999, Vajpayee summoned me to discuss Pakistan PM Nawaz Sharif's request for a ceasefire to allow his army to withdraw. I promptly disagreed, arguing that our momentum was strong and we could cross into Pakistan-occupied Kashmir within days. After three intensive meetings, Vajpayee eventually convinced me that-viewed through a geo-political lens and considering the necessity of parliamentary elections-a ceasefire was in the national interest. Even as the nation shifted focus toward elections in late July, the Pakistan army continued to hold three posts on our side of the LoC. While most ministers were preoccupied with the poll campaign, I sought Vajpayee's permission to use force. He granted it promptly, and our troops successfully vacated those positions. Vajpayee's empathy for soldiers was profound. After the war, he accepted every suggestion I made for soldier welfare, from enhanced compensation to personally laying the foundation for the Vijayee Veer Awas for our Veer Naris in Dwarka. Beyond the war room, I saw the man behind the leader. In August 2000, I mentioned to him that in earlier decades, the Prime Minister would often dine with the Army Chief at the Army House. He looked at me warmly and asked: "Kya aap hamen bula rahe hain? Agar aisa hai to hum zaroor aayenge. (Are you inviting me? If so, I will certainly come)." True to his word, he joined us for dinner, asking only if he could bring his daughter Namita and son-in-law Ranjan Bhattacharya. It was a humble evening; my wife and our cook prepared the meal, and there was no jostling of security personnel or official photographers. On September 30, 2000, the day I retired, my wife and I were invited to the PM's residence for the farewell dinner. It also happened to be our 32nd wedding anniversary. At the dining table, sitting next to Vajpayee, my wife Ranjana requested him to sign on the menu card specially printed for the occasion. Obligingly, he wrote: "To remember Kargil Conflict," and signed it. It remains a cherished memento-a parting gift from a leader who stood steadfast when the nation needed him the most....