I Am the MiG-21 – My Final Salute
I belonged to the Mikoyan-Gurevich family, but people fondly called me the MiG-21.I was born in the erstwhile Soviet Union, but to be honest, I grew up in India. My precious youth, my maturity, my entire life — it was lived in service with the Indian Air Force. When people spoke of a steel bird that could break the sound barrier back in my day, they meant me. Even today, I say that with pride. It was the year 1963 when I landed for the first time at Ambala Air Base. I still remember the look in the eyes of the pilots who saw me — full of awe, curiosity, disbelief. After all, even then I had earned the nickname “The Bullet That Flies.” I was already counted among the finest fighter jets in the world.
I still recall how the young pilots — fresh out of flight school — would climb into my cockpit for the first time. Nervous, hesitant, and sweating just a little. And I would greet them gently, like an old warrior welcoming his apprentice. The moment my engine and afterburner began to roar, their anxiety turned into exhilaration. As I climbed into the sky, they were stunned by my raw power. With time, the senior, more experienced pilots became confident flying me. They learned to climb steep, bank hard, barrel roll, and perform aerobatics with finesse. And when we returned to the ground, their faces beamed like victors — proud and fulfilled. They were no longer boys. They were becoming India’s warriors of the sky. Before stepping down, they would run a gentle hand across my fuselage and whisper, “Thank you.” Then, off they’d go, eager to tell others what it felt like to fly with me.
I had just completed two years in India when my true test arrived —The Indo-Pakistani War of 1965. Though still new, my pilots and I rose to the task. We patrolled India’s skies like hawks. No Pakistani intruder could breach our aerial borders. I chased down and intercepted enemy aircraft at blistering speeds, and it was in this very war that my true power was first witnessed — even by me.
The outcome? India ordered more of me from Russia. And then, a new dream took shape — I was to be built in India. From Bangalore, Nashik, and Koraput in Odisha, my family began to grow at the HAL factories. Before long, we were a family of over 800 MiG-21s — strong and proud.
What can I say about the 1971 war? I roared across the Western Front, shooting down Pakistan’s F-86 Sabres, bombing enemy airfields into silence.
As the years rolled on, new generations of aircraft arrived —The Mirage-2000, the mighty Sukhoi-30, the Rafale, and Tejas — India’s very own dream, made real.
Did I feel sidelined? Replaced? Not at all. Even with them, I flew proudly in Kargil. And after the Balakot strike, when Pakistan retaliated, it was I, with Wing Commander Abhinandan, who brought down an F-16 — and became immortal once again.
I had guarded India’s skies for decades. My time was coming to an end. This was the era of the new generation. Still, when the pilots who had first learned to fly in my cockpit grew older — became Air Commodores, Air Marshals—they’d often return to see me. Their eyes would well up. And in that moment, I too felt a sense of fulfilment.
Yes… Some called me “The Flying Coffin.”And yes — it hurt. But no one saw the tears I shed with the grieving families of those we lost. One noticed how I flew without complaint —through political neglect, operational fatigue, budget shortages, and spare part crises. I never blamed anyone. I just flew — as long as I could.
My Final Salute
I am the MiG-21.I was not perfect. I had flaws, faults, and the scars that came with them.
But when India needed a supersonic sword in the sky — I was there.
For six decades, I protected India’s airspace like a devoted sentinel. To every technician who kept me flying through thick and thin, I bow with deepest gratitude — I am forever in your debt.
Now, the time has come for me to take my final flight.
I leave —not in silence, but with the thunder of duty fulfilled.
Jai Hind.
This was a WhatsApp forward which has reproduced without the author’s permission. I seek his forgiveness. It echoes my thoughts and feelings at the moment when the MiG 21 will finally take a bow and retire from IAF service.
Be Safe and Fly Safe.
