They laid their lives for the Motherland

It was just before a short spell of time that these gallant warriors who laid their precious lives for the country were commemorated.

It has come to a close of nearly twenty years that this cruel war started and these young lads in their blossoming youth sacrificed their lives for the motherland - a father's pride, a mother's joy, a darling son, a brother, a mother yearning for your sight she thinks the one that I cradled in my arms. I think of your love and sweet devotion.

A bride of few weeks and months, the sister's heart melt, she thinks of those happy days spent - those days so warm bright and carefree.

The child will say "it's you who petted me, but where are you now'. Everything stilled when the cannon boomed. No one can ever heal the pain caused in them. It will live forever.

The losses are irreplaceable. When the new babe was to see the sight of a new world, the sight of the father was taken away - leaving the mother a thousand questions to answer.

But this is the vow he had made to his country. The vow, that makes the undaunted sacrifice. To give a thought to the battle field at Flanders, poppies bloomed over the graves of departed soldiers. They lie in rows and larks fly over singing of their bravery.

Our departed soldiers also lie, they say they honourably served the nation and the Motherland. They saw the beautiful sunset glow, lived a cosy life with their loved ones, they loved and were loved and now they lie solemn and still, they never retreated, they did their service to the full. They marched on and on to take up the battle with foe when feigning and waning, they threw the torch for us to hold it high. We must always remember them with love faith and gratitude.

These gallant warriors who died for Mother Lanka sleep peacefully.

Though dead, they live and always will live. They can see us, let us lift out spirits high, take them to where they are, bring forth a tear and soothe their off-springs and bereaved families and live with them and remember that they sacrificed their beautiful lives for us.

Our gallant soldiers, they went to serve our motherland. United they went. Some were adorned with ceremonial funerals, bugles, last post, gun carriage, funeral processions and all right royal honours that a soldier should. But alas! In some it is so pitiful that, no traces of the body whether in a jungle, crevice or a water rave. As the poet says:

Not a drum was heard
Not a funeral note
As his corpse to the Rampart we hurried
Not a soldier discharged his farewell shop
O'er the grave where our hero we burried
We buried him sharp at dead of night
The sods with our bayonets turning
By the struggling moon beams misty light
And the lantern dimly burning

History repeats itself once more again and again. Those dear parents can never make up their minds nor console themselves as they did not see the dear face of their loved one. But they can console themselves that their dear one died for a worthy cause.

"Can they look against at a velvet sky
Treasuring the warmth of their love
To us you were a summer rose
A dream and a sigh

Their memory will always remain fragrant among Mother Lanka and her children. They have answered the call of angles and has bloomed as roses in the garden of Eden and may their journey in Samsara be brief and smooth with no grief until they attain the Supreme Bliss of Nirvana.

It is the month of November. 11th of November, the day of the departed soldiers, throughout the world.

"Well done gallant soldier - in every sun rise and sunset we shall remember you.

To us you were a summer rose
A dream and a sigh".

- Patricia Mangalika Yahampath

(Writer is the mother of a senior officer in the Armed Forces)