Valour is a spectrum of fire, glowing in different intensities across the human spirit. The theme of warrior-like bravery has been at the very heart of our Indian mythologies, and stories of our brave gods who visit earth to conquer evil in various hues have been our companions for many centuries. For me, the concept of valour spans a very wide range.
On one side of the spectrum, it represents the physical and mental bravery displayed by our soldiers as valour roars across national borders, with soldiers standing against the storms of violence and uncertainty. Beneath blistering suns and in freezing winds, they walk terrain that tests their body and the very limits of the mind. They brave uncharted routes, fierce and unscrupulous enemies, and uncertain futures. They endure long days of stressful separation from loved ones; face minimum wages but live in maximum danger.
Yes, they define who superhumans are in my eyes. I always remember a gentleman who was an army officer and a writer, par excellence. Though he never stopped his brave work, his writing creativity remained blocked for more than a year. He had lost many of his brave compatriots in the army due to an unnecessary war, and it took great inner strength and resilience to overcome his overwhelming sense of grief. It is not that a soldier does not suffer from fear, loss, and depression, but it is part of his innate nature to remain unshaken—a guardian of peace. In the indomitable spirit of soldiers, valour is a blazing sun—unyielding, radiant, and awe-inspiring.
If we look at the middle of the valour spectrum, we need to admire the mothers, fathers, and teachers who devote their lives to raising and educating children, with absolutely no expectation of any return. This requires devotion to duty and a belief in the purpose of their lives. Valour glows steadily in homes and classrooms.
I had a mother who was the epitome of bravery. When she was alive, she would guard us fiercely, like the proverbial mother tigress, keep us out of harm’s way, and almost relentlessly make us adhere to truth and fair play. Even if it meant taking a ruler to us to enforce her just laws! Though her death created a deep void in me, her soul was ever-present.
I have described this ability of undying devotion to save and care for the family in my story ‘The Spirit of Amma’. This quiet courage transcends even death, as a mother’s presence continues to guide, protect, and nurture beyond the boundaries of life itself. This is valour, an eternal flame— gentle, unwavering, and sacred.
I am a teacher at heart, and I have devoted countless days to encouraging students to speak up and speak clearly. My mantra in every creative thinking class was simple: “You do not have to shout and scream your viewpoints, but you must ensure that your voice is heard in this world.”
Even today, I feel a quiet thrill when I recall how my workshops brought about meaningful change in a student’s life—their thought processes sharpened, their speech became confident, and their creativity became vibrant. As a teacher, I found deep joy in being a sculptor, gently chiselling away at the raw stone that a child is, and helping shape it into a confident and articulate individual.
Close beside this brilliance burn other powerful flames. The firefighter who runs into a collapsing building while others flee. The police officer who steps into conflict so that others may sleep in safety. The reformer who raises a voice against injustice, knowing the cost may be personal and steep. The journalist who uncovers truth in the face of threat and silence. These are flames that flicker fiercely—different in form, yet equal in courage.
I feel the least acknowledged are the caregivers who tend to the fragile with infinite patience. I recall a relative whose mother never recovered from a paralytic stroke. My relative took care of her for over ten years, as a mother would of her child. She never once grumbled that she had lost ten years of her life. Rather, she revelled in being of use to a mother who had loved her all her life.
Yes, there are many such stalwarts who make it to my list of brave, resilient souls…The farmer who sows seeds into the unforgiving earth, trusting the skies to be kind; The worker who rises each day against hardship, carrying the weight of survival with dignity; the doctor who stands for hours between life and death, holding hope steady; the scientist who dares to fail again and again in pursuit of discovery; the athlete who falls, rises, and strives beyond limits. These lives may not echo in history, yet they hold the world together with threads of resilience.
Everyday incidents which require us to wake up from our ennui and do something to save someone else -that is an important characteristic of a brave soul.
I always fondly remember my grandmother. Whenever our carload of family members arrived from Mumbai at her house in Mangalore, we would be welcomed with open arms, and our food and refreshments would be ready. But my grandmother would not first attend to our needs. She would be in the staff quarters, feeding the driver and the domestic staff who had accompanied us, and enquiring about their difficulties so she could help them, generously providing cash and kind.
“You all will be taken care of, but no one will care that these poor people are also thirsty and hungry. Let me feed them first, and then I will come to check on you,” she would tell me, her grumpy granddaughter, in a gentle voice.
And finally, I feel it is important to shine a light on the god of small things. Between the blazing sun and the quiet spark lie countless other hues of valour… the person who chooses patience over impatience, the humility to admit a mistake; the strength to choose right over easy, the resolve to act with kindness in a world often rushed and indifferent; The individual who walks through grief, illness, or loss, yet continues forward—step by step, breath by breath—refusing to surrender to despair.
I feel happy that I could express my admiration for the different shades of valour shown by human beings in my book. The valour of the Indian soldiers; that of a menial servant who stands up more strongly for what she believes in than a richer, more powerful madam than ever would; the bravery of women against men’s brute force, whether they are fathers or spouses…the characters vary, but the inner steel of their persona shines clearly through. Adversity brings out the true mettle of brave, resilient people, which I have observed through my life.
These are not grand gestures—but they are powerful. For it is in these moments that the soul chooses courage over comfort.
Valour is not confined to battlefields or headlines – I know that it lives in the extraordinary—and in the ordinary. It is the force that lifts humanity, again and again, from fear to strength, from darkness to light.
Valour is what we become.
