This poem is an attempt to pay homage to the Air force personal who lost their lives in the Uttrakhand Chopper crash. It’s an attempt to remind us that they are always there, sometimes guarding borders, sometimes risking their own lives to save others. This poem is their journey
From the stage when their dreams flowered and finally turned into a way of life !
THE ROYAL BLUE….
The azure sky was beautiful…
But towards something, as a kid, I was unconsciously dutiful …
Something that made me run all through my lane…
It was the whitish cloud of air, left behind by the plane…
I followed it as long as the sun and baby feet could allow…
I would wave so hard and shout no low…
But never did the pilot wave back…
I felt, must be something I lacked…
I would look at my papa and point finger in the sky…
He got me right and would answer my “why”
He would say, the plane is far too high…
And then giving up, I would take a deep sigh…
As a teenage boy, the passion grew…
What gripped me, was the country’s love
and the AIR FORCE attire… ‘The royal blue’
I knew for sure, that no dreams stand on shallow thoughts…
Concentrated blood can make nothing better than clots…
What flows with toil will get through…
What emerged from heart has to be brought true…
And since then I was set to be up there…
With patriotism that brings in care…
Controlling the big bird, I saw once…
Like one of my motherland’s responsible sons…
I was now the Aeronautical Engineer in Air Force
And now a flight lieutenant on board
On 25th June, as a part of the on-going mission.We were summoned by the chief…
To rescue the pilgrims in kedarnath, held in grief…
The adventure of every mission,
Gifted me the same vigour every time…
A task done often ,yet novel in its own way..
Where fighting for their emotions, required us to drop our emotions at bay..
My Royal Blue hanged in my closet, ready to be worn…
A wave of calm thought swung in between, like the noon between dusk and dawn..
Our chopper was ready to leave , all arrangements meticulously done..
The winds were erratic, missing was the sun
In The erratic weather, the chilly weather had caused ice cold freeze
In the blanket of fog, in the wrap of forceful breeze..
What happened hence, shall be paged in history now…
There’s a proud of patriotism when the nation takes a bow
Wrapped in the tricolor,
Cremated in grandeur…
No death for me could have been more pure
My epilogue read what I had dreamt of as a child..
“He died for the nation”
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