Delhi, May 12 -- I was a 25-year-old young man, working as a clerk in the North Eastern Railways' Lucknow office. My monthly salary hovered between '150-'175, a modest sum, especially as inflation soared with the war looming over us. Yet, such was the spirit of the times that despite the tight purse strings, I bought the first radio of my life. It became my window to the world, crackling with urgent war updates from early morning until late into the night.

The atmosphere in the office was electric, charged with anticipation and duty. All leaves were cancelled as the country braced itself, and most days were punctuated by mock drills. We were always on our toes, ready for any emergency. But beyond the drills and the daily grind, a deeper ...