We all differ in the way we handle pain
Even for the best at times life becomes a bane.
Whom do you look upto at such moments?
What makes you arise to fight again?

Mine is the monument outside New Delhi,
Thy name is Amar Jawan Jyothi.
Its place where the dead solier lies
I wonder for whom did he give the supreme scarifice ?
What did he acheive in life?
What did he really gain?
He gave his life so that you and I smile,
Even though his mother may never again!

I wonder if he died a painful death,
What were his last words
Who was in his mind in his last moments,
Did he still think of the country
the last time when his heart pumped blood?

I wonder what was going through his mind,
When he was run over by enemies gun.
Was he thinking about saving his motherland’s dignity?
Was he thinking of his newborn son?
Did he bother anymore about the outcome of the strife?
Or was he wondering
who would convey the message to his wife?

I wonder if he died in an unknown place.
I wonder if his death satisfied somebody’s greed.
I ponder over the age of the guy,
I ponder if he had a family
If he had one,
Did anybody meet their need?

I stop a guard at the monument,
I ask him if he thinks his senior died in vain?
He gives me a smile and laughs away,
If you ask him Sir, he says
I am sure he would do it again!

The incident always hits me inside out,
A silver tint in the glimmering cloud of doubt.
I may be down but I am not the hardest hit,
In respect of Unknown soldier,
I just cant afford to quit!