To the stars of Indian cinema, cricketing icons, and celebrated influencers, Jai Hind !!! Today, I write to you not as a critic, nor as a cynic—not even as a disappointed fan—but as someone who has lived to be a so called hero in reel life & moresoever in real life as well. One in olive green, where orders are followed without question and sacrifice is routine. The other under studio lights, where scripts replace strategy and stories stir the soul. My journey, from battlefields to film sets, has shaped me into a storyteller, a voice that speaks today not just from experience, but also for a purpose & cause—as an international TEDx speaker.

I am Major ( Dr.) Mohommed Ali Shah ( Veteran). I have commanded troops as a Major in the Indian Army, and I have performed on screen in National award winning films like " Haider", "Bajrangi Bhaijaan", "The Tashkent Files", " Agent Vinod", " Yaara", " Avrodh"  " Raagdesh", " Vodka Diaries", " Majaz - Ae Ghame dil kya karun" and many more. My heart has always stood at this strange, beautiful intersection—between the real and the reel, between uniformed action and cinematic expression.

It is from that very space that I write to you today—with both understanding and anguish.

Operation Sindoor was not just a military triumph—it was a moment steeped in symbolism. Even the name was chosen with cinematic flair and reverence. Sindoor—evoking images of sacrifice, soil, blood, and valor. It could easily be the title of a powerful film. And yet, what followed has been disheartening silence from those who have long worn the uniform on screen and draped the tricolor in their reels. The film fraternity, the cricketing heroes, the influencers—those whose voices echo far and wide—have not spoken a word as yet and it is very disheartening to say the least.

We’ve seen the outpouring of support when a film trailer is launched, or when a cricketer scores a century. We’ve seen hashtags trend for birthdays and box office milestones. So why does a real victory—Operation Sindoor—go unnoticed by you so called stars & celebrities?

And yes—there have been a couple of murmurs. A stray comment here, a passing tweet there. A few individuals, almost cautiously, have begun to say something—but where is the thunderous, united voice? Where is that collective heartbeat of the industry that roars when a film releases or when an award is won? What we’re hearing right now feels like whispers in a storm—barely audible, quickly forgotten. We’re not asking for slogans. We’re not asking for parades. Just presence. Just one powerful, unmissable voice that tells every soldier returning home: You are seen. You are celebrated. You are our country's real heroes.

And here's what hurts a little more:

Right now, when the wounds are fresh, when our jawans are still returning from the line of fire, there is silence. But give it a few months, and someone somewhere in the industry will write a gripping script. A stellar cast will be signed. The promotional drums will beat, and the box office will roar. It’ll be called Sindoor: The Untold Story or something equally poetic. And suddenly, everyone will remember.

But that’s not fair, is it? To ignore the sentiment now, and cash in on it later. Patriotism isn’t a plot device—it’s a pulse. And it deserves presence in real time, not just posthumous applause.

I say this not with bitterness, but with a quiet ache. Because I know how closely our worlds are tied. The soldier and the storyteller. The player and the patriot. The screen and the sky.

You see, not long ago, I wrote an open letter addressed to terrorists—challenging them with nothing but words, courage, and conviction. That letter went viral. Why? Because I spoke of Hindu-Muslim unity. Because I spoke not from a political platform, but from the heart of a soldier who loves his country—whole and undivided. I'm trying, in my own small way, to bring sanity where there is noise, and hope where there is fear.

But I am just a Major—not a General. I am a passionate artist—not a celebrated star. My voice is small, and yet I try to make it count. I do not have millions hanging on to my every word—but you do. And that’s exactly why your silence resounds so deeply.

I have had the honour of safeguarding our National frontiers in the difficult terrains of J&K & the North East part of India. I along with my brave colleagues have risked our lives on several occasions so that you all are safe & peaceful. We have lived at the border in bunkers barely a few meters away from the Pakistani post, where grenades were thrown at us with a frequency one never forgets. In those bunkers, we didn’t sleep—we waited. For the next grenade. For the next breath. For dawn. We learnt to embrace uncertainty, to celebrate survival, and to carry on without applause and yes we did give a befitting reply to the enemy.

I have witnessed life and death not through the lens of a camera, but through the fog of war. I have invaded terrorist hideouts not only on screen—but in actual counter-insurgency operations. That is not fiction. That is my memory.

And yet, I’ve also stood on a film set, correcting an actor’s insignia out of reflex—not because I was acting, but because I had worn the original with pride and responsibility. That’s how blurred the lines are for someone like me. And that’s why I feel this silence so deeply.

To our respected cons like Amitabh Bachchan, Shah Rukh Khan, Akshay Kumar, M.S. Dhoni, Virat Kohli, Ranveer Singh, and Deepika Padukone—you have inspired millions with your talent, skill and charm. You’ve united this country in stadiums and cinemas alike. Your voice, even in a whisper, has the power to move a nation.

If Pakistani actors could find the courage to post messages praising their army, despite the consequences they may face, then what is stopping us—citizens of a free and proud nation—from standing by our own?

So all I ask from you with an open heart: will you speak up when real-life heroes return from real-life missions after putting their life in danger for you ?

This is not a boycott call. This is not outrage. This is an invitation—to remember that your influence reaches hearts the way even battle cries sometimes cannot. A post. A word. A gesture of respect—can go a long way in reminding the soldier that his courage is not invisible, not unacknowledged.

You do not have to raise slogans.

You just have to raise awareness.

Yours in service,

Major ( Dr.) Mohommed Ali Shah ( Veteran).

The writer is an Army veteran and a renowned TedX speaker. He is the nephew of Naseeruddin Shah and has also acted in a few Bollywood films.