SALUTE..👮‍♂️👮‍♂️

My Brother With a Bloodied Nose

My brother with a bloodied nose,
And officer and gentleman.
Landed across the Line of Control today.
Ejecting after doing the best he can.

They caught him on their land and then,
Thrashed him like perhaps any of us would.
Till the army stepped in and dispersed them.
And rescued him while they could.

They asked him who he was and he said,
With poise and utmost grace.
A flying pilot of the Indian Air Force.
Battered, bruised, but with a proud face.

If only the general public could,
Muster a milligram of the same poise.
And realize that their war drum beating.
Is a ridiculous dangerous noise.

My brother with a bloodied nose,
He stood there firm and tall.
And smiled in the face of his captors.
And taught us the biggest lesson of them all.

That bravery is not ordered online,
Does not ship overnight on Amazon Prime.
Tis not the moment of jingoism and memes.
For armchair aggro tis not the time.

My brother with a bloodied nose,
Thank you for your dedication and verve.
Your class and bravery I fear though,
Is a little more than some of us deserve.

For those whose fury takes wing today,
Who have no idea what it's like.
To parachute into enemy territory,
Taking a hit in a combat strike.

My brother with a bloodied nose,
You've taught a lesson to us all.
You can bail out of an aircraft at high speed,
And yet to lows never fall.

And keep your cheer and character in times,
Of uncertainty in the face of death.
And learn again to behave as human beings,
If we only would our conscience let.

My brother with a bloodied nose. 
Keep you chin up, enjoy the brew.
A salute to your sacrifice today and forever.
Hold on a while, we're coming to get you.

My brother With a bloodied nose.
The bison who took on the sun.
Here's to you and all those that stand guard for us.
Nabah Sparsam Diptam.

Salute !

The Indian Army...!!

MUST READ - THE INDIAN ARMY FAMILY

When I met her, I was curious to know the story behind the uniform and that day she told - 
I was 19 when I got married to Captain Shafeeq Ghori in 1991. It was difficult in the beginning to accept the fact that he was constantly on the move and had to leave me alone for long periods, but he sat me down and explained what it was like to be an army wife. There were no mobile phones back then. I used to spend hours by the phone unsure when he would call. We used to write letters, and my husband made sure I received one letter every day for the days he was away from me. I used to write small notes and hide small surprises in his luggage.
In the years that followed, he had many high-risk postings. Back then, Punjab and the East were all dangerous places to be. He has been to Tripura, Punjab, and Srinagar. He used to be gone for days, but by then I had become strong and learnt to fend for myself and our children. I knew he loved the country the most and his kids and wife came a close second.

In 1999, he had a field posting in Srinagar, since it was a high-risk area family weren't allowed, I moved to Bangalore. June 28th, 2001, we spoke for the last time. He asked about our wellbeing, told that he was in the jungles for a military operation. He wanted to speak to the kids, but they were running around with their cousins, and there was a lot of chaos and noise. I told him to come back to his base and speak to them. I still regret that decision.

On July 1st, 2001. Around 6.30 pm, a group of army officers along with their wives came home. Suddenly, a lady made me sit down and told me. “Major Ghori is no more,” she said. I thought I heard it wrong. It had to be a mistake. She said they had been trying to reach me since morning but couldn’t as I was at my mother’s house and the phone lines were disconnected. Major Shafeeq Ghori was martyred in a heroic gun battle with militants during Operation Rakshak. Everything around me fell, crumbled. That day was the day I received my final letter from him.

The next day, I went to the airport to receive him for the last time.This time in a box clad in Indian Flag. I broke down. He would always ask me to be strong. He reminded me even on that last day we spoke, but I never imagined a day when he wouldn’t be around.

I got his uniform and civil clothes in a box. I did not wash them for eight years because I did not want to let that feeling go. His money is still in his wallet. The letters are still a part of my reading. I have played the role of a father and mother, but there were times when I used to fight back a tear seeing other kids play with their parents. Today, I work for the welfare of the army martyr families and women empowerment of the martyr widows in Karnataka.

I was 29 when Major Shafeeq Ghori was martyred. People told me to move on.. but He was, is, and will always be my Forever.

Salma Shafeeq Ghori. 
A wife.

--Article from newspaper--