A War Story

Once in a short time lapse,
The vast green meadows
That faded into sands
Across the long stretch of rails
Were exposed
By the rhythmic beams
They revealed ..
An armed poor man
Bound by duties
Who stood there
Or rather was made to stand
As the clouds crossed
The *Border-less* skies
A similar diminishing figure
On the other side
Different was the uniform only.
That “only uniform”
Which gets colored
With the same red blood
That hides ..
The same timid soul
Bound by duties alike
However,
A small but powerful
Metallic crest on the chest
Brings all difference
To that “uniform only”
As snow from the greens
Rolled over the rugged iron bars
Dampened sand breathed out
Aroma of their impaled souls
Somewhere between her real head
Over his arms
And their first anniversary
Everything that had become surreal
Had turned into
A photograph under the pillow
A letter, folded with safety
Into the wallet

“The wallet”
Hidden from
The dancing silver bulb
Within the bullet proof armor
Inside the pocket
When shot by bullet
Before the heart could
Bleat out life
From the dutiful robot
It would leave
A hole
While passing through that letter
But it would matter the least
For, it didn’t bear
The seal of the commanding officer
The signature of the Prez
Ordering for war
With his million dollar pen
Signed with fraternity
From his office
In a royal ambiance
But ,
It did bear
His mother tongue
Crafted into beauty
With the sweet colloquial ascent
Of his lady love
It did bear
Her pain penned
The last line
“COME BACK SOON, yours Leela”
Blotted into hazy ink
By her tears
That had fallen, while
She had penned it
With a pen
From a common stationary shop.
~Punyasloka Panda| Edited by Ghazal

 

 


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