I do not know you name
Nor the battle where you attained martyrdom
I don’t know your home,
Nor the tears that were shed.
I don’t know where you rest-
Nor the promises broken.
I don’t know your uniform
And your fears lay unspoken.
But, I know your spirit exists
That your courage is admired,
And your sacrifice is honoured
By each soul that’s inspired.
And I offer you from my heart
Thank you, the guardian unknown
For offering yourselves for us
That we may keep freedom….
R S Pura, Jammu
Ode to my friend
God’s gift she is to this planet
of whom He himself may have been proud
When she may have taken birth
Stars and sun may have smiled alike
Opportune may have been the time
when soothsayers may have written her fortune line.
Dusk and dawn may have been waiting
To welcome the new creature in their lap
Indeed one out of them
may have felt sad
Not being lucky
to have such a babe
A unique blend of simplicity and sophistication
Rare is found in any one such a qualification
Out stands she in her tribe
without any pretension or pride
In her eyes deep
lies the sea of sincerity
which she exudes
in her walk, in her talk
And in humdrum life
she drapes herself
in the robes
woven in texture calm
Is strong but sensitive too
A fighter but can shed a tear too
Courage her forte
Compassion her quality
Which she displays
with deep conviction
Always keeps critics at bay
But allows them a say
Weilds power as suits her position
Not for the self but for the seat
Grace personified as is she
Lives untouched by vanity or vengence
Such is the halo around her
It seems, if divinity, has touched her
Hands off to Heavens for such a lovely creation
Your incessant desire that something unreal
might happen in this mundane existence of the world
You love so ficrcely
that I am afraid your warmth might feel like fire.
Your quirks might feel like madness,
Blunder after blunder,
You’d be teleported somewhere,
where you belong,
There’s no one who knows the lyrics,
If I were to describe you as a song,
There are no prophecies coming true.
No miracles to look forward to,
Its laughable that you don’t understand.
Forgive me for being a cynical,
But there are limits to what you can withstand.
Yet you do what you do best.
You love, you hope, you don’t even rest.
Countless times have I been reminded,
Why I didn’t control you from the start?
Despite all the doubts, all I feel is,
I am not ashamed, My hopeful heart.
Nausheen Padha (Sheen)