"The Jasmine of Siachen
Note on Theme
"The Jasmine of Siachen"
This ballad tells a soldier’s personal experience of survival and courage on Siachen Glacier — the world’s highest battlefield. In minus 70°C, where snow swallows men and death walks the ridges, one thing does not freeze: love. The _motia/jasmine_ becomes the central symbol of hope, memory, and a love that outlives war and winter.
"The Jasmine of Siachen"
In white snowflakes falling on my face,
I’m brought back to a heaven of white.
Where minus seventy turns breath to knives,
And morning comes without light.
The eggs they bounce like stones of ice,
The juice is frozen, hard as bone.
Kerosene drums sing through the night
That tin is life, and life alone.
A thousand ghosts walk Saltoro’s ridge,
In Death Valley where the cold winds moan.
The highest battlefield the world has known,
Where avalanches swallow men like stone.
But through the storm I heard a song,
My brother’s voice against the dark.
He sang while striking empty drums,
And made the silence break and spark.
“Upon Siachen, the white wolves fall,
A thousand teeth of silent snow.
Do not tremble, do not fear at all
For here a jasmine dares to grow.
One motia wakes in armor of gold,
A soft rebellion in a kingdom of ice.
While death keeps watch and the mountains are cold,
Love lights a lamp in a grave of white.”
We were companions of the silent peaks,
Where nature writes in frost and prayer.
Warm tea, his letter from far away,
And love that kept our hearts from wear.
Two weeks we waited for the sun,
I left the tent to greet the dawn.
Then thunder cracked from the opposite height
And turned our canvas dreams to smoke.
I ran through fire that froze my blood,
To find him buried in the white.
His right hand clutched a letter, red
From the girl who crossed the world to write.
And on his chest, above the wound,
A single jasmine, small and bright.
It had not wilted, would not freeze
A motia blooming out of night.
His eyes still held a patient glow,
A smile carved soft in winter’s face.
One love story died within the snow,
But love itself refused to break.
For in that valley ruled by death,
Where crevasses drink and glaciers keep,
A jasmine taught the winter how to weep
And proved that love outlives the deep.
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