A day to commemorate the ultimate sacrifice of our soldiers…
My ode to the slain soldier :
When the neighbour back stabbed us in the name of peace,
Let us be prepared to break his house piece by piece,
Let him not forget that he has messed up really bad,
We still remember our jawan bodies being ice clad,
We cannot forget the teary Mother or the widow or the kid,
For the enemy, who killed her son or husband or father, sordid…
One of the bravery stories from many which are a part of Indian history now…
July 7, 1999…
He was assigned the task of taking point 5140. (My readers also need to know that not all mountains are named like the Everest or Kailash or Kanchenjunga, but rather they are given numbers related to coordinates of their position). It was a hill top. The enemy was on the top and it was one of the important hills which needed to be taken for our successful defence and driving the enemy out. The warfare was going to be tough but Captain Vikram, decided to go ahead. Captain Vikram started moving through the rough terrain slowly but steadily and within hours the point 5140 was ours. ‘Yeh Dil maange more’ the code word was transmitted. His commanders were happy about his success when they received the radio message.
Mission accomplished. Vikram and his troops now had to return. But the son of the soil decided to move ahead and take point 4875. There had been casualties in his troop but the spirits were high. So on they went, with the permission from their superiors. Maybe Netaji’s words to his INA “Ab Delhi mein milenge” must be ringing in their ears by now. The task was impossible according to their seniors. But our brave troops tread on.
The enemy was anticipating the attack and was fully prepared. The attack was mounted but the Indian side suffered heavy casualties. One of the soldier was grievously injured and was in the path of the enemy bullets. The soldier was lying near the enemy lines. Captain Batra without even thinking for a moment lept out out from his position and ran towards to soldier. He was fired upon and he took five bullets in his chest and head. The enemy soldiers pounced upon him and in this combat he killed five enemy soldiers. But this assault was lethal. Captain Vikram Batra attained Martyrdom.
Captain Vikram Batra, who led the toughest mountain warfare, was often referred as Sher Shah in the messages intercepted by the Pakistani Army.
He could have had a good and peaceful life in the Merchant Navy, which he had initially joined. But being in the front, to fight for Bharat was his dream, which he fulfilled.
Bharat and Bharatiya’s indeed should be grateful to such soldiers who give up their lives for our peace. People will commemorate this day by wishing each other and changing their DP’s and updating their status, (which I am not against as I myself will also put up one once am done writing this blog) but hope they remember people like Captain Vikram Batra and the other 566 soldiers who attained martyrdom to liberate our Motherland from the enemy.
Lastly let’s end with two lines from the famous song sung by the soldiers of INA
A sonnet is a 14 line poem which can be written in different rhyme schemes. I have followed a Shakespearen rhyme scheme of a b a b c d c d and e f e f g g. Its talks about a problem in the first 8 lines and then the solution in the next 6 lines. Have purposely kept my topic away from love and written about a geopolitical issue of my country.
Will be trying to write more sonnets in the near future and maybe a few romantic ones as well…
In the meanwhile, pls comment on the above that you read…
Have just described a father on job. Both the parents have a 24 hour job of care. Both do it without any cravings and cribbings.
Try to understand the poem from a father’s perspective as he is always fire fighting. In all situations he is the first to stand up to difficulties. Again the difficulties are different so they need different types of tackling. And after this, there is of course no fare / no charges earned for it.
If you ask my kids, their meaning of father is different.
Just a joke to make you all laugh. They just love me.
Gets us drenched with a feeling of oneness and love…
Let us all dance and talk and play in this first rain,
Let us keep aside our inhibitions and brain…
This is what I had written last year, but the experience this year has been completely different.
Waiting at my window sill,
Watch the water droplets drip,
Dancing as if it is a drill,
Love the drop upon my lip…
I am fine no need of a pill,
The winds blow as they whip,
My life is great, no need of a fill,
Get out and love is the tip…
Am trying to write something in a different way. Maybe the poem might not make sense as a whole, but read the alternate lines and they tell a different story. You will find poem in line 1,3,5 and 7 as well as in line 2,4,6 and 8.
Please drop a message telling me if you liked it or suggesting some other ways to do my poems. Always open for love and criticism.
Just a small state of affairs at all homes during lockdown. The otherwise trifle matter of making tea and washing cups have become a point of discussions with the range from how to wash them and which is the right method to wash the.
Making tea is an art. There are two ways practised in India. One add tea to boiling milk or second add milk to boiling tea. Both have their own different tastes, so I consider making tea an art. Even the Japanese would agree with me!🙃
Regarding washing cups being an art, ask the lady of your house, if you havent understand it till now. No one male would have been left without this experience during the lockdown days.
Today I want to express my gratitude to all my students, past and present who have cooperated with us during all these times. With you all being there has always kept us young and always in the mode of learning.
I dont why but I always wanted to be Teacher,
My parents despised this decision in worry of my future,
The idea of learning, all negativity to withstand,
Is the driving force of my passion, hope all understand…
The smiling face of my kids with questions ready,
Thir opening up with their likes, though slow and steady,
Their dislikes too need to be understood and heard,
So that they do not become the part of the herd…
I just love the days that I spend with my students,
Kids they are, facile, not a hint of fraudulence,
They make me noble and drive out my aggresion
For that’s the reason, that am a teacher by profession…
Am also a proud father of my son as he is my student too. A dedicated boy of this generation who is a normal child and is moulding me to becoming a better dad and a teacher.