to the Martyr Son - Jai Hind

The soil is moistened

With the tears of a mother

Whose son lies smeared with his cold blood far away.

The guns and the bombs go mute

With the reverberations of her heart beats, which wails

Resonating her love

For her martyred son,

Whom she had once wrapped in a woollen blanket to keep him warm ;

Now, lies cold and limp
On the bosom of the Mother Land.

Oh, Mother!

I am a coward, unlike your Son

and, so inept to console you.

Jai Hind.

Written in solidarity with Indian Soldiers.

copyright Ajay Pai 2016

poem