Soldiers Of The Kargil War - Poem by Rajendran Muthiah
You trek through the snow-clad vales with guns,
knowing well you march ahead into traps of death,
forgetting yourselves, your kith and kin,
to face the fierce foes religion-eaten
and kill them and be killed or lynched.
You bury the corpse of those fanatics
doing the rites their parents need to do,
as you are from a humane race.
But when we receive your flag-draped coffins,
seeing your mangled bodies
we vent our spleen in flowing tears.
The Tololing peak and the Tiger Hill
speak volumes of your valiant deeds.
But not even a bit of land we have
will ope its lips of our cowardly life.
The wealth we heaped and the life we reaped
will go to waste as the wheel turns..
Our morbid blood is not fit to spill
even on the dells around our hamlets.
The blood you shed on harsh terrains
flows through the land of Maha Rana
and the marvellous warrior Shivaji
and give harvests of sacrificial grains
and make our children fell and brave.
Let the books of History be filled
with the thrills of your facing bullets.
We’re fed up with the tales of cruel looters.
The future rulers of our land are your kids.
Those hurt in wars will sit in offices,
and those unhurt will man the police stations
and in schools you will inspire the young
to roam around the hills where our soldiers fell.
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The Road Not Taken
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