The Unsung Heroes

Oh, what a night it was!
Wished life would never pause.
Dancing to the tunes played of the radio,
Capturing every moment in a video,
Somewhere on the mountain land,
Away from the masses, soil and sand.
Remembering our family and friends,
Hope we meet, before life ends.


No sooner were we lost in this momentary bliss,
Than our sharp ears noticed a distant hiss.
Up and alarmed, we take our positions,
Guns and Rifles, loaded with ammunition.
And the first firing starts,
And one friend, sadly, succumbs to the attacks.
With heavy hearts, yet burning desire,
The mountains we climb, higher and higher.
Shouting slogans, rising spirits, we aim and fire,
But no, it never stops, the backfire!


Bullets are fired and bombs explode,
Hurray! Finally, the enemy has slowed.
Victory shines its smile on us,
And there the Indian flag, proudly wavers.


Hold on, look back at what lays behind,
The dead remains of our friends, cold and confined.
Looks like the snow has changed its colour,
Smeared with blood, all over.
Minutes before we were singing and dancing,
And now, some dead, some suffering.
But this shall not stop till our very last breath,
As, we will only give up, forced by death.
Either the flag flies high on the masthead,
Or we come draped in it, cold and dead.


By Pooja Dalaya

(Edited by Afreen Zeb)


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