Siachen Glacier

Siachen Glacier

(This was written while I was sweating it out in the desert and complaining of the heat.. Tried to imagine what a solider goes through in another part of the country...Yes our country...the Glacier)

Those tired feet have seen better days,

They work from before the morning rays,

Never staggering or tripping on some stone,

In parts almost eaten to the bone.

The stomach growls with such an ache,

What he would do for the piece of her cake,

He hasn't got past dried canned food,

At these heights even you would.

The trigger finger doesn't straighten no more,

As if it's that way from way long before,

He still supports a lion's roar,

Can't feel the tips no more.

The arms are weary but not weak,

As they scan the horizon to seek,

Some movement to catch the eye,

Like a drill, a day goes by.

The face is cold scratched and bruised,

Would happen to you if you were abused,

It's still young but needs a shave,

Some hot water in this wretched cave.

He's been through his childhood dreams,

His parents' advice his home town screams,

Anything to get by today,

A step closer to some home they say.

He dreams on... about his little girl,

All of two when he saw her last year,

He can feel her fingers clutching his hair,

The last time that he was there.

He thinks about his woman now,

The times she laughed and cried and how,

Her tender touch, her hands, her face,

What a beauty all bundled in lace.

He has changed now in this adapted land,

Knows it well like the back of his hand,

He used to like the hills once,

he doesn't anymore,

how he yearns to be like before...

…when Siachen had not happened to him,

when his world was more than a ten foot rim.

…when his mind was used to thinking straight,

when he had trouble getting up at eight.

…when his platoon was a band of men,

much more than these miserable ten.

…when his buddy was still alive,

he still comes around playing with his knife.

…when he could do what he wanted to,

or just sit down and think things through.

…when the valley was a picturesque place,

the mountain air had not lowered his pace.

…when it was easy for him to laugh and cry,

how he yearns for those days gone by.

They say it will be over soon,

He will be going home,

Today, tomorrow, next moon,

Alas! Its winter now and he'd come up in June