
This isn't just the story of a memorial. This is a saga of filial devotion, citizen grit, and a battle against apathy waged by the children of India's bravest – the #FaujiKids. It's the story of the National Military Memorial (NMM) in Bangalore, a dream conceived in honour, stalled in indifference, and resurrected through sheer, relentless love #InMyFathersName.
The Promise and the Abyss (2009 - 2017):
On a February day in 2009, hope soared. The Governor and the Chief Minister laid the foundation stone for India's first National Military Memorial. It was envisioned as a sacred space: a towering Veeragallu (Hero Stone) symbolizing sacrifice, fluttering military flags, an eternal flame, and a museum echoing with valour. But after this, silence descended. For 12 long years, the project  languished. Promises evaporated into the Bangalore air. The bureaucratic maze thickened. Funds stalled. The heart of the memorial – a majestic 180-tonne Veeragallu – lay forgotten, 42 kms away in Devanahalli, incomplete, unpaid for, a colossal symbol of neglect. While the nation slept peacefully, guarded by the very soldiers this memorial sought to honour, their symbol of remembrance was gathering dust. Tragically, as Bangalore stalled, New Delhi swiftly planned, tendered, and completed its National War Memorial by 2019, stealing the title of "first" – a profound injustice to us who had first conceived the project.
The Awakening: #FaujiKids Answer the Call:
 Enough was enough. In 2018, a band of military brats, led by civic evangelist Priya Chetty-Rajagopal (herself a fauji kid), refused to let their fathers' and the nation's martyrs be dishonoured any longer. They weren't powerful politicians or high-ranking officials. They were citizens. Services sons and daughters who understood the price of the olive green and the tricolour, and the honour due therein. They rallied under the banner #NMM Citizens for NMM. Alongside Priya stood a coalition of the passionate: style maestro Prasad Bidappa, the revered Justice Santosh Hegde, journalist & writer Sheila Kumar, Surabhi Tomar , policy specialist, Anand Kripalu former CEO Diageo, strategist Akshay Rajagopal, activist Rubi Chakravarti, and countless other citizens whose hearts beat for the cause.
The Relentless Campaign: Grit, Strategy, and Tears:
What followed was nothing short of a citizen-led military operation. Their mission: Move the immovable. Achieve in months what the state couldn't in a decade. Their weapons?
1. Unflinching Determination: Sleepless nights became the norm. Endless meetings with the Bangalore Development Authority (BDA), the Home Department, and officials like Mr. Rakesh Singh and Mr. Vinay Sugur were marked by polite persistence, sharp strategy, and sometimes, desperate pleading.
2. Strategic Pressure: They became experts in navigating red tape, securing permissions, negotiating directly with the Veeragallu sculptor, and vetting transportation vendors capable of moving the  180-tonne behemoth. Every hurdle was met with a solution.
3. The Power of Voice: A relentless #BringTheVeeragallu campaign exploded. Social media (#NMMBangalore) became a war drum. Traditional media was harnessed brilliantly. Articles were written, interviews were given (like Priya's powerful piece on SheThePeople), TV channels were engaged. They made the memorial's stalled state a national shame and the Veeragallu's journey a public obsession.
4. Groundswell of Support: Events were organized, networks were leveraged, and the public was awakened. They reminded Bangalore, and India, of the debt owed to its soldiers. The hashtag #InMyFathersName resonated deeply, framing the fight as a sacred duty.
The Triumphant Roll: Tears of Relief:
After a year and four days of superhuman effort – exactly what took the government 12 years – the impossible happened. In June 2019, under the watchful, tear-filled eyes of the #FaujiKids and their allies, a massive transporter, bearing the colossal Veeragallu like a modern-day chariot of honour, slowly, majestically, rolled onto the NMM grounds.  The #FaujiKids wept. Tears not of sorrow, but of overwhelming relief, pride, and vindication. The symbol of their fathers' ultimate sacrifice was finally home. Six more months of meticulous effort saw the stone safely installed, standing sentinel beside the towering national flag and the granite walls etched with the names of over 33,000 martyrs.
The Bittersweet Victory and Unfinished Duty:
The #FaujiKids had moved a mountain, literally and figuratively. They had restored a measure of honour through sheer citizen power. Yet, the battle cry isn't fully silenced. The memorial remains technically incomplete: the three service flags wait to fly, the Ashoka Chakra yearns to be placed, the eternal flame remains unlit, and the underground military museum – a crucial repository of memory – lies neglected, "left to rot." The contrast with Delhi's swift completion remains a stinging question mark over political will.
Why Does This Story Matter?
The saga of Bangalore's NMM is more than civic activism. It's a testament to:
  *The Power of Love and Duty:** #FaujiKids fought not for glory, but for the honour of their fathers and all who serve.
  *Citizen Heroism:** Ordinary people, armed with passion and persistence, can move governments and mountains.
  *The Cost of Indifference:** 12 years of delay is 12 years of dishonour to those who gave everything. As Priya and the team poignantly ask: "Why call on the spirits of the martyrs... and then keep them waiting for 15 years? That is not honour; that is dishonour."
  *Unfinished Business:** The fight isn't over until the last flag flies, the Museum is spruced up and the eternal flame burns bright for the NMM's heroes.