In the aftermath of India’s independence and partition in 1947, countless lives were divided by borders drawn in haste. Among them were two brothers from the princely state of Rampur — Sahibzada Yunus Khan and Sahibzada Yaqub Khan — both born into Indian nobility, both officers in the British Indian Army, and both destined to stand on opposite sides of a battlefield in Kashmir.
As Partition took effect, the brothers made different choices. Yunus Khan opted for India, continuing his service in the Indian Army. His younger brother, Yaqub Khan, joined the newly formed Pakistan Army. In the snowy mountains of Kashmir in the first Indo-Pak war of 1947-48, the two found themselves leading battalions on opposing sides — both Majors, both men of honour, both executing orders given to them by their respective nations.
In a tragic moment, Major Yunus Khan injured a Pakistani officer during a firefight near the Kashmir border. As the smoke cleared, he realised the soldier he had wounded was none other than his own brother. “Don’t grieve, Chotey. We are soldiers and we did our duty.” This is what Major Yunus Khan of the Garhwal Rifles Regiment of the Indian Army yelled at his younger brother Major Yaqub Khan of the Pakistan Army.
It was a moment of painful clarity — of the human cost of conflict, especially when loyalties to country are tested by blood ties.
Colonel Sam Maneckshaw (later Field Marshal) and Colonel Jasbir Singh commended Major Yunus Khan for his professionalism and bravery, while also expressing regret that he had to wound his brother.
The two brothers did not contact each other for years. It wasn’t until Yaqub Khan married Tuba Khaleeli, in 1960, from an Iranian family, based in Calcutta. Yunus, by then retired, sent his blessings across the border. Their next meeting, however, would only come in 1982 — thirty-six years after the war — when Yaqub Khan, by then Pakistan’s Foreign Minister, visited Delhi. The brothers hugged each other, but they didn’t speak about the 1948 battle in Kashmir.
Sahibzada Yaqub Khan went on to become one of Pakistan’s most respected diplomats, serving under both military and civilian governments, known for his linguistic skills, strategic clarity, and deep opposition to war. He publicly opposed military action in East Pakistan in 1971, and later warned against Pakistan’s Kargil ambitions in the 1980s and 1990s. Through it all, he carried the memory of the bullet fired by his brother — a moment that, for him, symbolised the tragedy of subcontinental conflict.
For men like Sahibzada Yunus Khan, the moment was not just a test of military skill, but a profound demonstration of loyalty — not only to the uniform he wore, but to the ideals he believed in. His service to India reflected not just courage under fire, but a deep, unwavering commitment to his nation — even when fate placed him in the most personal of moral dilemmas.
In a world often quick to judge and slow to understand, his story stands as a quiet reminder that true patriotism is measured not in words, but in the strength to uphold duty with integrity — even when it demands extraordinary sacrifice.
By Dipika Kandewal