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In silence, they resume their lives
Broken and re-patched, tired
From all that pain and sacrifice given
Of all those years 
In service for adventures of the state 

For wars not of their own choice
For reasons – alien and idiotic 
in conversation, words of despair
of all what they have given 
the old oaths hound them 
to their graves from its moments
when the swords were struck 
upon their shoulders

as their bodies sunk, in spirit
to serve and to defend against
enemies of the state, 
with all their heart and mind,
where no questions are asked
only to serve, the grand purpose

find they themselves at times 
in situations, alien and foreign
cannot kill our own, 
our hearts are not there
our hands are frozen,
too heavy the burden, 
the old oath and its mechanics

There was once a soldier
Major Farhan, of what I heard
the distant handshakes, 
and the old prayers in Waziristan
to walk as he did, as they carry him 
prayers for well being and return
return they do, return they will
in pieces and in danger,
as their bodies sway 
in distant corners, in distant wrath
for all what they have done,
the old perception, 
the old orders, the old oaths,
there to hound them, to kill


Here they await, 
the two children and the woman
the dispersed existence and fate
The empty coffin and few bits
Of existence, blown up 
As the rows are drawn
into thin air and memory
The old silence, and salutes
As they stand shoulder to shoulder
The two children and the woman!

Kashkin

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