Major Farhan

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