Mankai Walim
Early before the ‘merry’,
I walked lonely the grassy road.
With pride satchel, and quiet cheer,
My journey embark to a remote.
I felt their yearn of festive peace;
Pouch echoed through the hilly.
No emotions on my way could cease.
I was unaware — the sudden scary
That paused my joyful route,
And gave the wo’ry of mails I’d carry.
I saw uniformed shields — nasty —
Around the white toiling band.
They spoke in iron, brutality,
Fluent-loud, all red on the hilly lane
The Khakis roared, “Insurgency!”
No foe they found, just lifeless slain.
The betrayal of the new groom,
Twinned bread and youthful men,
Remains worthless agony of the doom.
Who will repair the central cog?
Claiming white lives - not child’s Toys
Behind injustice, kin voices faded;
Years ago, yet none mended the joy.
I’d only observed. The withered anchor
Shut me amid the walls of woe.
Now, to ‘lying still’ and ‘them’ I weep more,
For them, no merry wind shall blow.
Waiting for the dual post to arrive,
Oting lost one of twenty-five.
