Can we really give a Title?

I was in love with everything around me as I sat outside soaking myself in sunlight. My spirit was totally immersed in the warmth of the sun shining up above and that of my family members lazing on chairs and charpoy around me.

I was watching a magic show right in front of my eyes. The moment the plate overloaded with assorted pakoras used to reach the place , from where the word ‘pandemonium’ must have drawn its inspiration, multiple hands used to stretch out and Zoop! all the pakoras used to disappear… To add taste to whatever they felt they were eating , was my mother’s voice, springing up again and again, cautioning everyone not to drop pickle oil on their very well crumpled night dresses. Only Bholu, the community dog seemed to be diet conscious as he stretched himself on the ground….. in paradise….. being least affected with the mayhem taking place just 5 feet away from his kingdom of happiness.

The magic show continued……. my eyes started wandering…. the baby aster seemed to curiously read the world as it felt protected amongst the bunch of its brothers and sisters…. The dragonfly darted past, as if out to take a quick glance of its beloved; delicate periwinkle….

I gazed and gazed and gazed…. I gazed at the Amaltas tree exuding life……. I gazed at the night blooming jasmine plant laced with giggling tiny white flowers……. I gazed at Bholu , who had shifted his position along with the position of sun……..

I could see permanence in change!!!

It had to happen… and it happened ……

Booooooooooom! A thought struck me …… A question in multiple forms !!!!!!! …..

What makes this world of nature be there…. as it always was….. as seasons change…….

During Simmering Summers…. Thundering Rains….. Freezing Winters

What makes this Amaltas tree emanate life….. as right inside the four walls of our house we light a fire to comfort our cold fingers ….. slightly numbed after washing hands ….to banter over dinner with our loved ones….

What makes this night blooming jasmine spread fragrance selflessly as we sip our hot soup on the dinner table cribbing about the temperature outside …………

What makes our very dear Bholu, not formally owned by anybody….. bark loudly with altruistic commitment throughout the chilly nights…. assuring our safety while the dew crystallizes to frost … as we comfortably tuck ourselves in bed, sandwiched between thick mattresses and ultra-warm quilts with blowers on……

What is the name of the spirit? Is there any word in the dictionary to define this life force??

How is it possible? How is it possible?

Yearning for an answer …… I slouched in my chair, lifted my head and desperately looked towards the sky……

Oh! Oh! Oh! Unbelievable….

The world seemed to come to screeching halt ……. The answer was right there !!!!

Right above my head …. A figure…… carved out of a fluffy white cloud..... on dazzling blue sky…..

Captivated…… Spellbound….. I stared at the figure………. The figure of ‘ A SOLDIER’

Painted across the ether was the answer …..

Everything stood standstill……

Stunned….. Awestruck …… was the cosmos of my existence……….

It is possible !!!! It is possible !!!!…… I heard the war cry from the figure…....

The undefinable spirit of a soldier……..

Stupefied I sat there, as the chorus being sung during Antakshri , just two feet away from me seemed to electrify the space……

इसके वास्ते निसार है मेरा तन, मेरा मन ऐ वतन, ऐ वतन, ऐ वतन

जानेमन जानेमन जानेमन

Lifewali cannot dare to dedicate this humble piece of her work to the lion souls who dedicate their lives for we, the common men….

Salute…… Infinite Salute…….. Prayers……. Infinite Prayers……. for the souls who live this undefinable spirit……

Long Live our Soldiers…….. Jai Hind