Bihar News: Martyr Mohammad Imtia’s Mortal Remains Arrive in Patna; Son Shares Their Last Conversation

A Son’s Last Words: The Heartbreaking Farewell to Martyr Mohammad Imtiaz

The sky over Patna was heavy with clouds, the air thick with anticipation and grief. At the city’s airport, a somber crowd gathered—officials, soldiers, journalists, and ordinary citizens—waiting to receive a son of Bihar who had given his all for the nation. Among the sea of khaki and white, one young man stood alone, his face etched with pride, sorrow, and disbelief. He was the son of Mohammad Imtiaz, the BSF Sub-Inspector who had fallen in the line of duty in the troubled valleys of Jammu and Kashmir.

This is not just the story of a martyr’s homecoming. It is the story of a family’s courage, a son’s last conversation with his father, and the unbreakable bond between a soldier and his homeland.

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Chapter 1: The Call of Duty

Mohammad Imtiaz was born in Narayanpur, a small village nestled in the lush green fields of Saran district, Bihar. Like many in his village, he grew up listening to tales of valor and sacrifice, of ancestors who had served in the armed forces, protecting the nation’s borders. His childhood was marked by simplicity—days spent in the fields, evenings at the local mosque, and nights under the vast, star-lit sky.

From a young age, Imtiaz was drawn to the idea of service. His father, a retired schoolteacher, often spoke of honor and duty. “The country is like a mother,” he would say. “To serve her is the greatest privilege.” Imtiaz took these words to heart. After completing his education, he joined the Border Security Force, determined to make his family and village proud.

His journey was not easy. The rigorous training, the long postings far from home, and the ever-present danger tested his resolve. But Imtiaz never wavered. Over the years, he rose through the ranks, earning the respect of his peers and the love of his family.

Chapter 2: Eid and Homecoming

The last time Imtiaz visited home was during Eid. It was a brief, joyous reunion after months of separation. His wife prepared his favorite dishes, his children clung to him, and his elderly parents beamed with pride. For those few days, the worries of the world faded away, replaced by laughter, stories, and prayers.

But duty called, as it always did. After just 18 days at home, Imtiaz packed his bags, hugged his family tightly, and promised to return soon. His son, a young man in his early twenties, watched his father leave with a heavy heart but immense pride. He knew the risks, but he also knew that his father would never shirk his responsibilities.

Chapter 3: The Fateful Night

It was a quiet evening in Jammu and Kashmir. Imtiaz, stationed at a sensitive post, was on high alert. The region had seen a surge in militant activity, and every night brought with it the possibility of violence.

At around 5:30 PM, Imtiaz called his son. His voice was calm but urgent. “There’s been an attack,” he said. “The terrorists have struck. My right leg is badly injured, but don’t worry—I’m holding on.”

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. The son, thousands of kilometers away in Patna, struggled to process the news. But he forced himself to be strong, for his father’s sake. “Don’t worry, Papa,” he replied, his voice trembling. “I’m coming. Hold on. Everything will be alright.”

It was a conversation filled with unspoken fears and desperate hope. The son immediately booked a flight to Delhi, planning to travel onward to Jammu. But fate had other plans. There were no flights to Jammu that night. Undeterred, he boarded a train, praying for his father’s safety with every passing minute.

Chapter 4: The Longest Night

The journey from Patna to Jammu felt endless. Every hour brought new updates from the hospital—some hopeful, others grim. At 3:00 AM, the doctors reported that Imtiaz was out of immediate danger. The son clung to this sliver of hope, urging himself to stay strong.

But at 6:00 AM, a call shattered his world. An assistant commandant informed him, in a voice choked with emotion, “He is no more.” The words echoed in his mind, refusing to sink in. He had missed his father’s last moments. He had not been able to say goodbye.

Grief washed over him in waves—regret, anger, and a profound sense of loss. “I couldn’t talk to my father one last time,” he would later say, his voice breaking. “He had just come home for Eid. It had only been 18 days since he left. And now, he’s gone.”

Chapter 5: The Last Journey Home

As news of Imtiaz’s martyrdom spread, the entire village of Narayanpur plunged into mourning. The government arranged for his mortal remains to be flown to Patna, where ministers and dignitaries gathered to pay their respects. The airport, usually a place of arrivals and departures, became a site of national mourning.

The tricolor-draped coffin was carried with solemn dignity. Soldiers stood in salute, officials offered wreaths, and the people of Bihar bowed their heads in silent tribute. Amidst the crowd, Imtiaz’s son stood tall, his eyes red with tears but his posture unyielding.

“It’s a moment of immense pride and pain,” he told reporters. “My father never gave up, not even in his last breath. He faced the enemy with courage, and he died defending his country. I am proud to be his son.”

Chapter 6: Memories and Regrets

The journey from Patna to Narayanpur was a procession of grief. Villagers lined the roads, chanting slogans of “Bharat Mata ki Jai” and “Shaheed Imtiaz Amar Rahe.” Schoolchildren held placards, elders wept openly, and the entire community came together to honor their fallen hero.

For Imtiaz’s family, the pain was indescribable. His wife, inconsolable, clung to the memories of their last Eid together. His parents, stoic in their sorrow, took solace in the knowledge that their son had fulfilled his duty. But it was his son who bore the heaviest burden—the weight of words left unsaid, of a last embrace that never came.

“I wish I could have spoken to him one more time,” he said quietly. “I wish I could have told him how much I love him, how proud I am. But I know he knew. He always knew.”

Chapter 7: A Village in Mourning

Narayanpur, a village that had given many sons to the armed forces, had never witnessed a sacrifice so close to home. The local mosque echoed with prayers for the departed soul. Neighbors brought food and comfort to the grieving family. The elders recalled stories of Imtiaz’s childhood—his kindness, his sense of justice, his unwavering faith.

The local school declared a holiday, and the children gathered to pay their respects. “He was our hero,” said one boy, his eyes shining with admiration. “He protected us. He made our village proud.”

The sarpanch, or village head, addressed the crowd. “Imtiaz was not just a soldier; he was a son, a father, a friend. His sacrifice will never be forgotten. We must ensure that his children are cared for, that his legacy lives on.”

Chapter 8: The Final Goodbye

As evening fell, Imtiaz’s mortal remains were taken to the family’s ancestral graveyard. The funeral prayers were attended by hundreds—family, friends, villagers, and strangers united in grief and respect. The air was thick with emotion as the coffin was lowered into the earth, the tricolor gently folded and handed to his son.

Tears flowed freely, but so did words of pride. “He gave the supreme sacrifice for the country,” a neighbor said. “There can be no greater honor.”

As the sun set over Narayanpur, a sense of peace descended. Imtiaz had come home—not in the way anyone had hoped, but as a martyr, a hero, a symbol of selfless service.

Chapter 9: The Aftermath

In the days that followed, the family struggled to come to terms with their loss. The government promised support, and the BSF assured them that Imtiaz’s sacrifice would not be forgotten. But for his son, the pain was raw, the memories vivid.

He replayed their last conversation over and over in his mind—the calm in his father’s voice, the reassurance, the courage. He remembered the promise he had made to rush to his father’s side, the frantic journey, the heartbreak of arriving too late.

But he also remembered the pride. “My father was a warrior,” he told himself. “He died as he lived—with honor, with courage, and with love for his country.”

Chapter 10: The Legacy of Sacrifice

Martyrdom is not just an act of dying; it is an act of living for others. Mohammad Imtiaz’s sacrifice became a rallying point for his village, his state, and his nation. His story was covered by national media, his name added to the roll of honor, his family visited by leaders and dignitaries.

But beyond the headlines, it was the small moments that mattered—the tears of a mother, the prayers of a father, the dreams of a son now colored by loss and pride.

The son resolved to honor his father’s memory by living up to his ideals. He spoke at local schools, sharing his father’s story, urging young people to serve the nation. He took on the responsibility of caring for his family, determined to be strong, just as his father had been.

Epilogue: A Nation’s Debt

The story of Mohammad Imtiaz is not unique. Across India, countless families have made the ultimate sacrifice, sending their loved ones to guard the nation’s borders. But every story is personal, every loss irreplaceable.

As the tricolor fluttered over Narayanpur, as prayers rose into the evening sky, one truth remained clear: the price of freedom is paid in blood and tears, in the silent courage of families who give their all for the country.

Imtiaz’s son, standing by his father’s grave, whispered a final promise. “I will make you proud, Papa. Your sacrifice will never be forgotten.”

And somewhere, in the quiet fields of Bihar, a hero rested in peace, his legacy secure in the hearts of those he loved and protected.