I looked down a high cliff at a restless ocean below, I climbed the proud mountains crowned with lofty clouds, I reached the serene jungles sitting in silent pride, I did not find it... I visited the richest nawabs in their castles and towers, I ate with the lowliest creatures whom language didn't own, I met the right-hands and mouths of Gods we know from pages, yet, I didn't find it... At last, lost in thought I walked by a crowd Some in white, some in black, some in uniform. All turned to a majestic but still figure In an honored embrace of the Tricolour Twenty-one guns and croaking crows later I heard a little girl's cry - "Keta 9GR ko ** ke hoena" - ** ** ** The tears never ceased, The roar never stopped With faltering steps, the brave-heart... There. I found it,I found inspiration.
(Refer to the notes)
** ke hoena - ** ** ** (was he or was he not - he was was was) is the battle cry of the Gorkha regiment of the Indian Army to honour the martyred soldiers. This piece is inspired by the final salute an 11-year old gave to her martyred father - "keta 9 GR ko ** ke hoena" (was this boy/youth from 9 GR or not, GR refering to Gorkha Regiment) For more - (http://on.fb.me/1DdQriw)