The Tri-Colour

Allured by the ephemeral merchandise,

His tiny steps with puerile eyes, peep in the scattered varieties of trendy tri-colored innovations..

His was the excitement,

Wouldn't be justification resistant,

Had he not visited the bricks n mortars, on his own to bag,

The flying pride, the national flag.

A needless prelude would it be to bring to light,

For two more decades added to the golden '50s of glorifying fight,

The innocence filled mind moves closer to a flag seller...

Then its sudden distortion that dissuades his glee,

For he can't identify what he has discerned so far, the original pattern of flag what he could see...

Few months have passed,

That the army fraternities had returned with his martyred father's corpse

Wrapped up with flag colored homage,

Blink less eyes witnessed numbly when only four was his age,

Take after the whole with what he has now in front,

Except, that missing spots...

Yes, The stain of red patches,

The bright red blood traces, the dam of vein ruptured while defending millions of us,

In front of Gunshots,

Superseded the 24 spoke blue wheel...

These mustn't be original as they're missing those red stains,

His heart consoles his zeal...

Undetermined, he comes back.

Yes. Two more decades to the golden 50 of Independence...