In honour of the untold thousands, who through the decades have been martyred or maimed in the course of their duty, at times in the course beyond their duty, but have remained largely unknown, unrecognized, unrewarded... here’s dedicated, my poem:

I, THE UNSUNG

- Maj Kavish Aggarwala (Retd)

Soaring high in the skies, it’s me;

Deep down in the oceans, it’s I.

In the times of the greatest misfortunes,

You’ll find me standing nearby.

I brave the merciless, chilling colds;

Alike blazing sun, or blistering heat.

I practice indifference to extreme winds and sounds...

Still keep myself ever upbeat.

I measure the density of barren woods;

I scale the lofty, God-forsaken mountain.

Or sometimes tread the lifeless, arid desert, where,

A little stored water, is my only fountain.

I am there in unforgiving floods,

In tsunamis, in earthquakes, in cyclones...

Dangers and tragedies that cowards flee,

Give a kick to my thirsty hormones!

I am in the remotest villages,

And also in the heart of the city...

WHEN TIME TESTS MY LOVE FOR THEE, O MOTHER,

I LAY MYSELF DOWN FOREVER, IN ANONYMITY.

I don’t protest, I never rebel.

I am the meekest of the meek.

I eat like a glutton when fortune offers,

Where reserves are sparse, I fast for a week.

I wake when you sleep;

I slog when you rest.

I am on duty when you are too,

And so too when you’re on fest.

I am your eternal friend,

Your guard, your sentry.

I strive to ever ensure, no unwelcome traitor,

Makes in my motherland a backdoor entry.

Sunday, Monday or holiday:

Eid, Diwali, or “working” day –

I can hardly tell the difference...

Nor is it all for the modest pay.

I have my petty amusements;

With unflattering facilities am I content.

I ask for little: for a few hours of sleep,

A nice room would be good; so too an old, rusty tent.

I roam like a gypsy,

Going hither and yon.

Till I’m familiar with the whole country,

And feel everywhere “I am at home”

I give all I have:

My time, my energy, my health, my heart,

I PLEDGE MY LOVE TO MY NATION,

“TILL DEATH DO US PART.”

Some naysayers belittle me still;

I utter not a word.

I know what I do and what I’m worth,

I feel no need by the ignorant to be heard.

You see me in many colours –

I remain ever your faithful brother –

Donning the olive green, royal blue, pure white...

I AM THE UNSUNG INDIAN SOLDIER!