Wrapped in a blanket, the infant warrior.
Smiling through agony, banging the shelf,
Said, “Find my home, be my savior.”
Puerile I stood tall,
Doubting his innocence, overlooking his pain.
Demanding him to leave, I received the master’s call,
Stunned to silence, losing myself, realized I had made the same mistake again.
Signing to the rhythm of silence,
On the ridge, I aimed for him to reach.
An oath written on my heart so dense,
Carving his own shelter, I said I will teach.
Digging the snow swimming on,
He saw his home off the ulterior.
Giving his all, credence till wan,
Flying like a bird with joy so high, he reached home, the infant warrior.
- - Kratik Malhotra
Guess what. As he waved me goodbye, the master passed us by J
Well, often on incidents, you might give yourself credit but believe me, it’s him who makes everything happen.
Jai Gurudev J