The vast emptiness of space suddenly filled with melody as Rakesh Sharma, India’s pioneering spaceman, broke into ‘Sare Jahan Se Accha’. This wasn’t a concert hall; it was the Salyut 7 space station, 400 kilometers above Earth. The year was 1984, and Sharma’s Intercosmos mission had just scripted history.
Selected from 800 IAF pilots, Sharma’s path to the stars began with parachute jumps simulating zero gravity and centrifuge spins testing G-force endurance. Paired with Soviet cosmonauts Yuri Malyshev and Gennady Strekalov, the trio blasted off on April 3. Docking with Salyut 7, they commenced a packed itinerary of 21 glorious days.
Sharma’s experiments ranged from cardiovascular monitoring to plant growth in microgravity. He wielded specialized cameras to map Indian terrain, revealing drought patterns and urban sprawl invisible from ground level. Live telecasts brought space into Indian living rooms, demystifying the final frontier.
The defining moment arrived during a conversation with PM Indira Gandhi. Her query about India’s view from space prompted Sharma’s poetic response, quoting Iqbal’s verse. The nation held its breath, then erupted in cheers. That simple exchange transformed Sharma from pilot to icon.
Life in orbit demanded ingenuity. Meals of rehydrated borscht floated like jellyfish; exercise on a treadmill tethered to the floor maintained muscle tone. Sharma mastered these quirks, even celebrating Holi by smearing colored water in globules that danced in weightlessness.
Returning to Earth, Sharma faced the brutal readjustment—muscles atrophied, balance shattered. Yet he rejoined active duty, later commanding a MiG-27 squadron. His legacy endures in ISRO’s ambitions, proving one voice from space can echo through generations.
Rakesh Sharma’s orbital ode wasn’t mere nostalgia; it was a bold affirmation that India’s gaze now reaches the stars.
