A Forever Love Story

Air Cmde Ramesh Vishwanath Phadke and Dr Pushapjeet Sidhu Phadke were married on 13th March 1970 in Ambala.

My parents’ love story is like a masala Bollywood film. They met on an air base, got together despite parental pressure, and faced many roadblocks set up to end their romance. But despite it all, they did get married, had two children and lived together and for each other for almost 56 years. Their journey together was cut short on 14th Oct 2025 when my father passed away due to a sudden and catastrophic cardiac arrest.

This is their love story.

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The image was taken on 13 March 1970 at their wedding.

Papa was commissioned into the Indian Air Force in 1967. In 1968, he was posted to Ambala Air Force Station as a young Flying officer to 18 Sqn. Mama was also posted to 18 Sqn as her first official posting after being commissioned into the IAF in 1969 as a Doctor.
Everyone had heard that a lady doctor was posted to the squadron, the first and only lady officer in the entire Air Force Station full of bachelors, and as you can imagine, that had created a buzz.

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Flying officer R.V. Phadke and Flt Lt Pushapjeet Sidhu Phadke – The first image was taken outside the Sahara Tea Club tent at Air Force Station Ambala just minutes before my father took off for Srinagar in early 1971. The second image was taken a few years ago, in September 2018, at my parents’ farm near Bangalore.
My father titled these two pictures together as ‘Jai Jawan Jai Kisan’.

They started as friends – Nothing more and nothing less. Romance was not really on the cards, but they spent a lot of time together. Something my very strict maternal grandfather (nana) Gurdiyal Singh Sidhu, who also happened to be a Brigadier in the Indian Army, did not like. It would be prudent to note that my father was a Maharashtrian Brahmin and my mother a Jat Sikh. My nana could not understand how my mother could be interested and friendly with anyone other than a proud sardar. So he asked my mother to stop spending time with Papa. That did not go down well.

My parents used to have their evening tea together after a hard day’s work in the verandah of the rooms where the officers were staying. A new rule was passed overnight that a bachelor could not go near a lady officer’s room. So my parents started having their evening chai on the grass patch adjoining the footpath opposite their rooms. This was obviously a red flag for my nanaji. He then asked his friend Air Marshal Shivdev Singh,  who was the Vice Chief of the Indian Air Force at that time, to post my father out of Ambala.

As a result, my father was sent on detachment to Delhi from Ambala for ops room duties. The duty was 24 hours on and 48 hours off. My father was young, cocky, and not one to be bested. So he would finish his duties and then ride out on his BSA to Ambala for 48 hours after every duty. Finish the day’s work and leave for Ambala immediately, and then leave for Delhi a few hours before his next working day was to start. This infuriated Nanaji.

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This next image was taken on their travels through the Middle East as they went to collect their car, a Volkswagen Passat.

Amidst this high drama, I guess feelings developed, and my parents decided to get married. Their leave had been stopped by this time. So the two of them went to court on a bright Saturday afternoon in full uniform to file a court notice seeking permission to get married. The judge took one look at them and said – ‘What have you two been up to?’ Once he knew the story, he just said, ‘Come back after one month, and I will get you married. ‘
So they filed a court notice and were ready to wait the mandatory month to get married. My mother’s permanent address was her ancestral village near Patiala. So that is where the copy of the court notice was sent and was received by my great-grandfather, Bhaan Singh Grewal.  He intervened and asked his daughter, my grandmother (nani), Pritam Kaur Sidhu, what happened. To which my nanaiji told him that his granddaughter was friendly with a Madrasi fellow from down south. You have to understand that at that time, for my grandparents, anyone below the Vindhiyas was a Madrasi!!  My great-grandfather, who had participated in the 2nd world war, bless his soul, told them of so many who had married gora (white) women, and one knew of no caste or anything for them. What was the trouble if my mother married another Indian? But truth be told, my nanji was more worried about his daughter marrying a fighter pilot than what his caste or community was.

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My parents completed each other. In almost 95% of the photographs I have of them together, my father has his arm around her. Whether it was just the two of them or in a group setting. Especially in a group setting.

My naniji saw the truth of the matter and convinced my nanji that he might as well relent. So he did, and they were married in a traditional Anand Karaj in Chandigarh. No one came from my father’s side. But once the deed was done, they too relented, and my parents left for Indore, my father’s hometown.
My grandfather had sent the photo album from the wedding ahead to Indore. And my mother got married in a sari, wearing a traditional Maharashtrian nath. When the paternal grandparents, Vishvanath Vinayak Phadke and Vimla Karmarkar Phadke (aazoba and aaji) saw this, they were intrigued as their contractor, Mr Kothari,  who had built their house in 1956, had come home and told them he had dreamt of just this the previous night, and was confused seeing a woman in a sari getting married at an Anand Karaj.

My mother was received with a traditional welcome and much curiosity. My mother is fair and used to wear a saree all the time with a bindi. My paternal relatives were pleasantly surprised to see their new family member in this avatar. She looked and behaved nothing like they assumed a Punjabi/sardarni bride would. And there were whispers in Marathi about this new bride. What no one knew, other than my father, was that, thanks to having studied in Indore many years earlier, my mother understood Marathi 🙂

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I have been lucky to live close to my parents for the last decade. I have a veritable treasure trove of memories at every birthday, anniversary, or any special occasion. These next two pictures are of my parent’s at their wedding anniversary in the last two years. The first was taken at home in 2025, and the second image was taken at the hospital in 2024 while my mother was admitted for a heart issue.

My parents, I am sure, had their share of fights and disagreements, but they were so content and complete in themselves that my brother and I often complained, ‘You don’t need us’. Their love story is truly one for the books. They travelled the world together, took us along wherever they could. My mother liked and still likes separate tea served with a full tea service on a tray with tea cups and a teapot – no mixed tea in mugs for her. My father made that tea for her every morning right up to the day he died.
He had a cardiac arrest while looking at her and speaking to her. He was with her till his dying breath. And he never took off his wedding ring in all those 56 years. My mother wears hers even today.
Real love stands by you, walks with you, and grows with you.

Forever. A really hard act to follow.

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This video was taken at my house a few days before my father was admitted for his triple bypass open heart surgery in Jan 2021. The blue fabric on my mother’s chin is a mask – an ever-present accessory during the COVID years.

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The joy in each other’s company was ever present and something to aspire to.