I'll Be Home Soon

My son packed his bag,

Tears filled the eyes of this old hag.

“I’ll be home soon,” he lied, 

For years I believed and my heart sighed.

My son didn’t settle abroad,

The reason why he left is worth laud.

“I’ll be home soon,” he lied,

For years on his wrist by his sister,

No rakhi had been tied.

My son settled on borders,

He executed all the orders.

“I’ll be home soon,” he lied,

For years lurking him his wife cried.

My son was so far,

He was fighting a war.

“I’ll be home soon,” he lied.

For years what connection had been tied?

My grandson who is just 5 years old,

“You are his father,” he has

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been told.

My son wore sometimes green, brown or blue.

He protected us all, me and you.

“I’ll be home soon,” he lied,

Years before ‘he should become brave’ his father always tried.

Alike his martyred father his life was full of discipline,

Both their personalities were so sheen.

My son never showed up yet

Then came the postman bringing fate.

Bringing a letter,

Making us feel better.

“I’ll be home soon,” he still lied.

One day he finally came.

That was the day when ‘martyr’ was attached to his name.

The tricolour became his shroud,

Of a martyred soldier I was a mother too,

Being a veer nari, I was so proud.