“He Said His Name Was Bharath. That Was Enough to Kill Him”

Summary

SRINAGAR: A serene family vacation meant to create joyful memories turned into a scene of terror and irreversible heartbreak for the family of Bharath Bhushan,…

SRINAGAR: A serene family vacation meant to create joyful memories turned into a scene of terror and irreversible heartbreak for the family of Bharath Bhushan, a 35-year-old tech professional from Bengaluru, who was mercilessly shot dead by terrorists in Pahalgam, Jammu & Kashmir on Tuesday — all because he proudly said his name.

 

The chilling attack unfolded in front of his wife, Dr. Sujatha — a pediatrician at Ramaiah Hospital — and their three-year-old son. When terrorists confronted them and asked his name, Bharath replied with pride, “My name is Bharath.” That one word — indistinguishable from “Bharat,” the very name of the nation — sealed his fate. He was shot in the head on the spot.

 

Back in Bengaluru, silence fell over the Bhushan family home in Sundarnagar, Mathikere. Garlands still hung from recent festive moments, now watching over a household shattered beyond recognition.

 

Bharath’s father, 74-year-old Chennaveerappa, only discovered the tragedy hours later. “I found out the unthinkable while reading my morning Kannada newspaper during my daily walk,” he said, voice heavy with emotion. “My legs gave up beneath me. I couldn’t believe what I was reading. My family had shielded me from the news, not knowing how to break it.”

 

Just hours before he was killed, Bharath had spoken to him over a video call. “He showed me snow-covered peaks and said they were heading to Pahalgam. I told him to take care. We laughed, and the call ended like any other. Who knew that was our last conversation?” Chennaveerappa recalled, trying to hold back tears.

 

By late afternoon on Tuesday, reports of a brutal terror strike began circulating. “I asked my daughter-in-law to turn on the television. She said the signal was gone and that my elder son Preetham would fix it later. I didn’t suspect anything. She was already living with the truth, protecting us from it.”

 

By 7 in the evening, Preetham told the family Bharath had been injured and that he and Sujatha’s brother were heading to Kashmir. “He said it was nothing major. They just needed to bring him back. The flight got delayed, but I still had hope,” said the grieving father.

 

Meanwhile, Bharath’s mother, 72-year-old Shylakumari, grew increasingly restless. “She lit a diya, and we both made a small vow — to donate Rs 101 if our son returned safe. But even the gods stayed silent,” he said, his voice cracking.

 

Later that night, Preetham confirmed the devastating truth. Bharath had been holding his son when the terrorists ordered him to pass the child to his wife. They then asked his name. When he responded, they demanded to know his religion. On hearing he was Hindu, they pulled the trigger.

 

“I named him after the actor Bharat Bhushan and our ancient King Bharat,” Chennaveerappa said. “Little did I know that his name — the name of our nation — would become the reason for his death.”

 

By Wednesday morning, a relative from Indiranagar visited their home, unable to contain her sorrow. Shylakumari overheard her sobbing and pressed for the truth. “My wife has a heart condition. We tried to protect her, but the truth escaped. She collapsed in agony. Thankfully, her condition is stable now.”

 

As the family awaited Bharath’s remains, preparations began outside their home. A white canopy was being set up, and neighbors pitched in quietly. “My son is gone,” Chennaveerappa said, managing the arrangements. “But I must do what he would have expected of me. The last rites must go on, even if my heart is broken.”

 

Bharath’s mother-in-law, Vimala, added, “I had just spoken to Sujatha moments before the attack. They were married only four years ago. This is cruel beyond words. How will my daughter survive this pain?”

 

Friends called him “Bhushan” — a name that once brought smiles and warmth. Now, it echoes through a house filled with sorrow. A man who lived with pride in his identity died for it — in front of his child, in the lap of the land he loved.