Six ways to remember a martyr

I have never had to wake up at 4am in the freezing cold, carry a heavy pack up a mountain, and stand guard for hours while everyone I love is far away. Most of us haven't. We complain when the internet is slow, or the traffic is bad, and somewhere, a soldier is sitting in a bunker, eating cold food and thinking about his mother's phone call he couldn't take yesterday.

Some never cross their own doorstep again. The soldier who died is gone, but what he leaves behind is a family still setting a plate at the table, a school bag still hanging on a hook, and a young wife who suddenly has to be both parents. The medal is placed in her hands, she is thanked at a ceremony, and poof! The cameras leave. That is where we confuse the closing of a ceremony with the closing of a wound. Medals matter, but a medal is a moment. A family's grief lasts a lifetime, so our remembrance should too.

Therefore, we can turn our gratitude into action, starting with these ideas.

Put their names where life happens: Name a road, a bridge, a roundabout, or a park after a martyr. Every time someone says, "Meet me at Shaheed Hassan Chowk", a name is spoken aloud again. Name school classrooms, libraries, hospital wards and sports grounds after them too. A child who studies in the "Captain Ali Library" will wonder who he was, and that curiosity is how a memory survives. Name ambulances and rescue vehicles after them, so their names arrive wherever help is needed.

Tell their real story: A plaque shouldn't just say a name and a date. It should say he loved cricket, he was the youngest of five, and he used to send half his salary home to pay for his sister's school. Ranks are forgotten. People are not. Add a QR code to every plaque and every tree, so anyone can scan it and read the full story in seconds.

Plant a tree for each of them: A martyr's tree in a public park, with a small tag, grows taller every year. It is a living memorial, and it gives shade to strangers, which is exactly what he did for us. Plant a rose bush beside it too, because roses bloom again every year, just as memory should.

Look after the family properly: Free education for martyrs' children, reserved seats in colleges, priority in healthcare, and help with jobs for widows and parents. We can also make sure the family's own street gets a proper road, clean water or a school because the martyr's home village deserves better than being forgotten. Set up a Martyrs' Family Fund for weddings, funerals and emergencies, and pair each family with a local volunteer who checks in every month, not once a year.

Bring their stories into our schools: Invite families to the national day assembly and let them speak, if they wish. Students hearing from a martyr's mother will learn more than from any textbook. Create an "Adopt a Martyr's Story" programme where each class researches one martyr and presents it at assembly. Print martyrs' names on the bottom of school notebooks and exam papers, small reminders in ordinary places.

Make their memory part of our culture: Hold an annual "Martyrs' Film Festival" where young filmmakers submit short documentaries about fallen soldiers. Commission murals in every district, painted by local artists, showing the martyrs of that area. Ask poets and writers to compose a "Book of Names", with one poem or paragraph for every martyr, published each year.

None of this is difficult or very expensive.

It only needs us to care enough to do it.