25 Years Later Remembering Uncle Trilok Singh (Loki Uncle)
January 21, 2026, marks the 25th anniversary of a day that forever changed my life. On this solemn occasion, I pause to remember my beloved uncle, Shaheed Trilok Singh whom I lovingly called Loki Uncle a man whose warmth, kindness, humility, and quiet heroism left an indelible mark on my childhood and continue to inspire me every single day.
I come from a simple yet deeply rooted family background that shaped my values long before I understood their meaning. We lived in a small, picturesque village called Dardapora, Kreeri, surrounded by Beautiful mountains and sprawling apple orchards, nestled in the gentle folds near Gulmarg.
Our home was part of a joint family, headed by my grandfather Retired Army officer Late Subedar Sujan Singh Salyal, a man of discipline, dignity, and quiet strength.
Life in our ancestral home was modest, yet rich in love, laughter, and togetherness. Days were filled with shared meals, shared joys, and shared sorrows days that now live on as some of my most cherished memories. For a child like me, that joint family was my entire universe, a small world overflowing with warmth, security, and belonging.
It was within this close-knit environment that Uncle Trilok’s affection, guidance, and presence became an inseparable part of my childhood and emotional foundation.
Uncle Trilok was a government employee, serving with dedication as a Government Dental Technician in the Health Department, posted at Nihalpora, Pattan, in north Kashmir’s Baramulla district. Every morning, he went about his duties with sincerity and compassion, often placing the needs of others above his own. His work was not merely a job it was a service.
That fateful day was Sunday, January 21, a day when most people stayed home, resting and spending time with family. The Health Department had chosen that day for the Pulse Polio Campaign, ensuring maximum outreach to protect children from a crippling disease. As a government employee, my uncle was assigned duty for the campaign a responsibility he accepted without hesitation.
In my childish innocence, unaware of the meaning of duty or service, I followed him as he prepared to leave. I remember asking him with genuine confusion,
“Why are you going today ? It’s Sunday. Everyone is at home.”
He did not explain policies or obligations. He simply smiled warmly and gently asked me to return home. Before turning away, he made me a promise that would stay with me forever:
“I will bring oranges when I come back.”
He was traveling by bus from Kreeri towards Srinagar when, near Tappar, a horrific incident occurred. The bus struck an improvised explosive device (IED) planted by terrorists. In an instant, Uncle Trilok and five other passengers attained martyrdom. Two young sisters from my own village, Dardapora (Kreeri), who were pursuing B.Sc. Nursing, were also killed. Dozens more were injured in the blast. The news shattered our world, leaving behind a void that can never truly be filled.
To the world, he was a devoted government employee. To me, he was far more. Uncle Trilok was my guardian, my playmate, and my constant source of unconditional love.
I remember curling up beside him as a child, listening to his laughter, feeling the gentle security of his presence, and losing myself in the magical stories he would weave at night.
He had a rare gift for making ordinary moments extraordinary sneaking me a sweet treat, sharing a quiet joke, or comforting me in ways only he could. One of my most cherished childhood memories is how I would often play “doctor-doctor” with his dental instruments. Even then, he would smile with pride and dream aloud of seeing me become a dental surgeon, gently encouraging me and planting a dream that would later shape my destiny.
I still remember that morning the ugliest day of my life. The promise of oranges echoed in my mind as hours passed. But my uncle did not return smiling. He did not return laughing. He returned in a coffin, his clothes soaked in blood. That haunting image remains etched in my memory forever.
Even today, I preserve a newspaper cutting in Urdu reporting his tragic death a tangible reminder of the courage, sacrifice, and love he embodied.
Uncle Trilok left behind a grieving yet resilient family: his wife Ranbir Kour, his two sons Paramveer Singh and Jatinderpal Singh, and his beloved daughter Simranpal Kour. Their strength in the face of unimaginable loss stands as a testament to the values he lived by.
On the day of his martyrdom, I made a solemn promise to myself to keep my hero alive by fulfilling the dream he saw for me. Despite having many options in life, I chose to become a dental surgeon solely to honor that promise and to keep his legacy alive in the truest sense.
Today, as a practicing dentist in Baramulla, north Kashmir, I carry him with me in every step I take, every patient I treat, and every decision I make. Through my profession, my service, and my values, I continue to live the promise I made that day.
Even after 25 years, the lessons he imparted humility, courage, selflessness, and kindness remain my guiding light. Uncle Trilok Singh’s life may have been tragically cut short, but his legacy is eternal. His laughter, warmth, gentle guidance, and the heroism of his sacrifice live on through me and through all the lives he touched.
On this 25th anniversary, I honor Uncle Trilok Singh not only as a government employee who laid down his life in service of others, but as the gentle, loving uncle who shaped my childhood, believed in me, and guided my path.
A promise was made.
A promise was kept.
And a hero lives on.
By : Dr. Ameetpal Kour
BDS, MHA
