Even as the years roll on, I know this: Whenever the history of the Indian Air Force is written, my name will always soar.
I am retired now. Tired, and soon to be re-attired.
I have been up there for more than 62 years, guarding the Indian skies and providing the much-needed shield of security to the nation.
You must have seen or read about the wonderful ceremony that took place on 26th September, when I flew my very last mission.
I saw many a tear shed and a heart skip a beat when my engines went silent for the final time.
Leading from the front, the present Chief of Air Staff -- who wasn't even born when I first took to the skies in 1962 -- flew the last formation sortie.
The three other aircraft in the diamond were flown by the commanding officer and one of the IAF's first women fighter pilots.
For the many veterans who had lived their prime years with me, this was a deeply nostalgic sight.
At the end of the ceremony, officers, technicians, and families walked up to me.
They touched my smooth steel skin, some gently caressing me as if to thank me for the memories of their youth.
I could almost feel their emotions -- pride, loss, and gratitude -- all at once.
Now that it is over, I lie covered in the hangar, my engines mothballed, my batteries disconnected. I am not dead though.
I still live, in six decades of memories etched into thousands of pilots, engineers, and ground crew who kept me alive.
What will happen next, you ask? Well, my brothers and I have different fates waiting for us.
Some of us will be stripped down to the bone and sold as scrap.
Some others will find themselves on pedestals at academies, schools, or parks, serving as silent motivational aids.
A lucky few will be preserved in working condition, to fly again in vintage airshows.
I do wonder, though -- as the years go by, how many qualified pilots will remain to tame me in the skies?
Behind the farewell ceremonies lies much paperwork.
A committee must formally declare me 'obsolete,' the government must approve my being taken 'off strength,' and decisions must be made about my parts and the tons of ground equipment that sustained me over the years.
It is a mountain of steel, hydraulics, and instruments that will now gather dust in hangars.
Some of my airframes will move to training establishments, where budding engineers and mechanics will learn the basics of servicing flying machines on my frame.
I have heard that some have even suggested turning a few of us into pilotless drones for combat training.
It sounds exciting but it would require enormous resources, technology, and imagination.
Perhaps the most satisfying future for me is as a museum piece.
I dream of schoolchildren and aviation enthusiasts walking under my wings, listening wide-eyed to stories of how I flew in 1965, struck in 1971, defended in Kargil, and even roared into the headlines during Balakote.
I was not just a machine -- I was the cradle for generations of Indian fighter pilots.
Nearly 60 percent of the IAF's frontline aviators over the last half-century first learned the meaning of speed, discipline, and survival in my cramped cockpit.
The commanders, instructors, and heroes you know today all once felt their gloved hands tremble on my stick.
I was also the face of the Indian Air Force for the outside world -- agile, sharp-nosed, ever ready.
From the Cold War era through the 21st century, I stood as a symbol of India's determination to hold its own.
Of course, I owe my life to those who rarely sat inside me -- the technicians.
Through nights of pouring rain and blistering heat, they checked my fuel lines, polished my canopy, and tested my heart.
Without them, I would never have roared to life on time, never raced into battle when the nation called.
The future? Some of us may land up in public parks, painted bright, admired by children who climb our wings.
Some of us may even, like our foreign cousins, adorn cafes and monuments.
And yes -- sometimes I dream of birds perching on me, marveling at my aerodynamics and taking lessons in flying from my shape.
It is just a matter of time. All of us must, one day, be reduced to relics and remembrances.
Yet, even as the years roll on, I know this: Whenever the history of the Indian Air Force is written, my name will always soar.
For I am the MiG-21 -- and I ruled the skies of India.
A helicopter pilot who served the Indian Air Force for 35 years, IAF Veteran Air Commodore Nitin Sathe is a frequent contributor to Rediff.
You can read his earlier articles here.
Feature Presentation: Aslam Hunani/Rediff
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