What’s gone is gone, what won’t come won’t come. We are small people living with a small mind-frame, in a world which is too small for us. May be that is where the materialistic world of today is leading to. A civilization which knows not what it is doing, but follows what one person is doing; hence following like sheep, knowing not what the consequences of it is, and quite often forgetting the main portion of the world, the part of the world which gives us everything, the people who die for us, the people who strive day and night for us, but do not get anything valuable in return. They, according to the general, I repeat general, people, are the left-overs who do things because they have to do it. And sadly they are mistaken. People do things by choice, not under compulsion. The ordinary man fails to understand the extraordinary man. And consequently, it is the most important part of the world which is considered as the REMNANT.
“From the Dustbin”
The dustbin. My home. Do not worry because this isn’t the dustbin kept at the corner of your study, this is the dustbin in the heart of today’s world. There was a time, I remember long, long ago, when MY country was a slave, a slave in the hands of a cruel empire, the British, who almost tried to choke and kill the nation’s soul. There weren’t many people who wished to bring about any change, because they didn’t care whether their nation lived or died, whether their countrymen lived happily or in fear, fear of their own selves, cursing themselves day and night to be born in such a country, which had fallen prey. Yes, prey would be the correct word.
I remember how like a pigeon which takes its last long breath and tries to give a last shot at flying and escaping the eagle which injured it and put it to ground, but fails since its wings were already so worn that they serve no use, in a similar way, now and then people, whom you now call freedom fighters, tried to do bits and pieces of work to save the country and make it independent. What do you people think? Were they actually fighters? Do Gandhi, Bose and all even deserve the term ‘fighter’!! No. They weren’t fighters for the smallest bit. Yet, people remember them. And, then who fought actually? Who took up the guns and went to fight? Who gave their lives in millions even before India got independence? They were all people who do not care about what life has in store for them. They were all those men who happily and with a smiling face dedicated their lives to this land, India. They were people like me, ordinary soldiers.
Yes, I am a soldier. A profession too bad for anyone. Because personally now, I don’t feel people give any importance or respect to this profession. They do not bother about anything as long as they are safe. Day in and day out, I strive for them. I fight to keep them alive. My friends here, who were there, died only to save them. But hardly do they know their names. That is the state of soldiers here. No one thinks of us. We do our job, they do theirs. It’s as if it’s a compulsion for us and they take it for granted. People do not forget actors, singers and musicians, but they definitely forget us.
All history books talk about great people. What they do not realize is learning what happened in the contemporary time when India gained independence will not serve of any importance to any student’s life. They miss out on the most important people. Moreover, parents discourage their children from taking part in national defence academy entrance examinations in fear of losing them at war. The common response is, “Why my child?” Well, it’s because he is the country’s child too. Then they argue that having one child less at the border won’t harm, and I have no answer to this.
As of my state now, I cannot speak much. I will die any day soon. But if you, my countrymen, do not put forward your sons to become soldiers and protect my country, then I assure you, each and every one of you will pay, when the country again goes into the hands of another empire. You will again become slaves. And then you will have nothing that you can do. Mark my word. Thank you,
Just now, we heard the feelings of a soldier who portrayed how he and his fellow-mates feel at the way we people behave about them. An ignorant behavior is what they do not wish to get from us. Yet, that is only one dimension of the life of the soldier. There is yet another dimension, a dimension which portrays not the brave soldier at war, but the loving father at home, the caring husband at home. Yes, behind all the difficulties and the life full of struggle that the soldier lives, there is a soft corner somewhere, and that is where he stores the memories of his wife, his children, his parents, and his happiness.
“Dad, When Will You Return?”
I am ten years old now. My mother says I have grown up. I feel happy that I have grown up. Now I can tell my friends at school that I am bigger than them at the same age. There is something different about my friends’ lives and mine though. Their daddy stays with them all year. My dad doesn’t. Still I am more proud about my daddy. You know why? Because the country is safe because of him. My papa is a soldier. A soldier is a fighter. Just like Superman and Spiderman fight against monsters, my papa too fights. Mother says the monsters my father fights with are larger than those Spiderman fights with. And my daddy always defeats them. That makes me so proud of him. I always tell him to bring the head of a monster when he returns, but he never brings one. I feel sad about that.
The best time of the year is June. My father gets a holiday of one full month then. And when he comes back home it’s so much of fun. I wait for the day when my father will return every year. He comes by flight, and each year when he comes back, it is night. And after dinner, that is the only day when I do not go off straight to sleep, but wait for my father to ring the bell of the house. And then I rush and open it, and hide behind the door. And when he closes the door and sees me I jump on to him and cling to him by the shoulder.
This one month is the best for me. My daddy drops me to school just like all the other fathers. And in the evenings, we go out to restaurants and hotels, and markets and malls, and to fairs and so many other places, to relatives’ houses, and there is so much fun. But I do not like the fact that this one month passes away so quickly.
Daddy leaves. And then the rest of the year passes in waiting for the next June. I love my daddy a lot; and he knows it. When I grow big, I will also become a soldier. I will also fight against monsters. I will become Superman. My daddy smiles when he hears this, but I will do it one day, and then my daddy will be the happiest father in the world.
“I Have The Best Husband”
The most fortunate thing for a woman is to have the best husband one can have, and I am proud to say that I am that lucky one, because I know for sure that my husband is the best. No one can have a man like the one I have.
I see through your eyes, I see through mine,
All are the same, all divine.
You are the one, that always will shine,
Through all weathers, be it bad or fine.
I know deep inside what you feel for me,
You do not show it, but I can thoroughly see,
Your eyes tell me when you sit with me,
And you are the one who I always wanted to be.
Always wanted to be with you,
And that was why I gave you that clue,
Clue that forever we should unite,
And that I want to be in your arms hugged tight.
So many days have passed I last saw,
That love in your eyes, that compassion raw,
Days have passed, and nights have given way,
I stay awake and cry, to you I show I am gay.
Gay and happy, and I tell my son,
We can still have lots and lots of fun.
I still love you, I really do you know,
Although never now I actually it show.
Come back to me, and again we will,
Do all that we did, because I love you still.