In 2008, as Mumbai bled under terror attacks, an NSG Commando hailing from Kerala calculated “the rhythm” of enemy gunfire from a room on 20th floor of the Oberoi Hotel.
Two-three bursts — pause. Two-three bursts — pause.
He barged into the room, and neutralised a terrorist. But seconds later, a grenade explosion struck him. Three shrapnels pierced his head, leaving him in coma for months.
When he eventually gained consciousness, the right side of his body was paralysed. But not his spirit — the spirit that helped save the lives of about 40 hostages at the hotel.
Subedar Major P V Manesh (retd), from Kannur, is an icon of courage and endurance. A recipient of the Shaurya Chakra for his valour, he served the Army for 28 years before retiring in February last year.
Besides Operation Black Tornado, he was also a part of missions such as Operation Meghdoot, Operation Rakshak, Operation Aman, and Operation Ifasath.
From a mischievous college student in Kannur who attended the Army recruitment “by accident” to an elite commando who believes that “duty comes before self”, Subedar Major Manesh’s journey is the stuff of legend.
TNIE catches up with him on the sidelines of the Kraft Lit Fest in Tripunithura, where he was part of a discussion titled ‘Valour Under Fire’.
Excerpts
Before becoming a soldier, who was the young Manesh?
Well, he was a mischievous boy seeking the thrills of taking risks. I was not great at academics. However, I always felt a pull towards doing something good to people. In fact, as I grew up, I wanted to join politics in Kannur. But I eventually lost interest. And destiny had other plans in store.
We have heard you once say that you had joined the NCC for the food treats. Is that true?
Yes. I joined NCC as my friend told me that we would get parotta and meat. Being a foodie, that was enough encouragement for me. And later, I was the one assigned to buy parotta and curry from the restaurant for the team — a thrilling duty (laughs). To be honest, at that time, I was not passionate about joining the defence forces. But, as I said, destiny had other plans….
What eventually made you join the Army?
One afternoon at Sree Narayana Park in Kannur, while eating aval (flattened rice) after bunking class, a collegemate noticed an Army recruitment ad printed on the newspaper in which the snack was wrapped in.
Though hesitant at first, I accompanied some of my friends for the selection. I stood in front of the recruitment office’s gate at West Hill — holding the belongings of my friends in a small polythene bag. The sentry, a Sardar, said in Hindi: “Get in or go out.”
A friend named Santhosh, who knew a smattering of Hindi, told me, “If you don’t go inside, he will shoot you.”
Panicking, I ran inside and joined the other aspirants. Unfortunately, my friends who were passionate about the Army failed to make it. Only I did — destiny!
When did you join NSG?
I started as a normal soldier in the Madras Regiment. Once I joined the force, my initial indifference — or ignorance, rather — gave way to passion. I understood what patriotism really meant. And there was fire in the belly. I wanted to push myself, and volunteered for NSG training.
Commando training is quite something. NSG training pushes one into a phase where bravery, endurance, instinct and survival blend together.
We were trained to operate in hostile settings for 70 to 90 hours without rest, at times with under a litre of water per day. We even had to stand inside a septic tank under the concrete slabs for hours — we were trained to fight in any damned combat condition!
Could you take us through the 26/11 Operation Black Tornado?
I was part of the 51 Special Action Group. When we were mobilised from Delhi, it took 16 hours to reach Mumbai airport due to clearance procedures. Multiple forces were already deployed. However, there was a lack of building blueprints. Additionally, the live media broadcast unintentionally revealed the movement of the force. An operation in real life is not like a movie scene where you can retake a shot.
What was it like once you landed?
Operation Black Tornado was unlike anything we had faced earlier. The 2008 Mumbai attack had shaken the nation. Inside the Taj Hotel, it was a ghastly scene — blood and bodies on the corridors. Our team leader, Major Sandeep Unnikrishnan, was martyred at that hotel.
How do you remember him?
He was different from most of the officers I have seen. He never spoke harshly. He was emotional, compassionate and protective of his men. Seeing the mayhem unleashed by terrorists, he told me, “If we don’t stop this, who will?”
He later advanced alone in the fight, as he did not want to endanger his men. When he was martyred, I remembered the old dictum that a soldier should never cry. But his loss was deeply personal, and I choked on emotions.
The next encounter was at Oberoi Hotel, right?
There, we spotted two terrorists. I shot one of them dead. The other guy, who had RDX with him, was holed up in a room.
A direct assault could lead to a massive blast. So I suppressed him with gunfire, while my teammates rescued the civilians from the spot.
By then, I had sustained heavy burn injuries to my right hand due to a fire that had broken out. Once the civilians on the floor were cleared, I decided to go in.
Thinking of my wife and four-month-old son at Delhi back then, I told a senior commando named A K Singh — “I may not return, please look after them.”
I calculated the trigger rhythm of the terrorist — two or three shots, and then a pause. During one such pause, I barged into the room. The terrorist grabbed my rifle barrel. I let it go, and kicked him. I drew my pistol and fired multiple times.
As he fell, he threw a grenade towards the roof. It exploded about four feet above my head. There was a flash and shrapnel hit my helmet like rain. Three fragments pierced through into my head — of which one fragment still remains lodged there.
The last thing I could hear was Singh shouting: “Pick up Manesh!” I went into a coma.
Later, I learned that his (Singh’s) right eye was hit by shrapnel, but still insisted on saving me. That is the spirit of soldiers.
How long did it take to regain consciousness?
I was in a coma for about five months, and hospitalised for nearly two years. Various news channels initially ran scrolls that I had been killed.
It took nearly a year for me to even recognise my son. The right side of my body became paralysed. All these years, my wife has been my strong pillar of support.
She never cried in front of me. If she was down with despair, I might never have stood up again. She made me believe that I was capable of bouncing back.
Looking back, how do you view war? Is it right or wrong?
A war of aggression is wrong. But a war of resistance is right. Our country has never been the aggressor. We resist those who attack us. Resistance is not violence — it’s protection.
Of all the recognition, which one means most to you?
The Shaurya Chakra, of course, is a great honour for a soldier. My greatest awards, however, are personal. When I was lying injured after 26/11, my school teacher visited me. He touched my feet saying it’s his ‘guruvandhanam’ to the ‘gurudhakshina’ that I gave for the nation.
Similarly, I was overwhelmed when former president A P J Abdul Kalam held my paralysed right hand in his lap and told me that I was not alone. That gave me immense strength.
But the most precious moment was when my mother hugged me weeping and said, “I am proud that I gave birth to you.”
You retired last year. What is your next mission?
I am deeply concerned about youngsters getting addicted to mobile phones or going wayward without goals. I believe their energy and potential need positive channeling.
That thought prompted me to motivate two youths from my village to join the Armed Forces. That small success gave me a larger vision.
As of now 108 Malayali youths, who I coached, are now serving in different parts of the country. I am continuing this mission.