Mother, Do not cry for my Martyred father.

To my martyred father, my proudest salute.
I shall not shed a tear. I shall not cry. I am resolute.

To my anguished and widowed Mother I say,
“Mother, wipe your tears. Do not cry. Nay!”

Hold your head high and keep walking on tall
My Father died defending his duty’s call.

His death is not in vain and so what if he is no more?
“Mother, he died protecting a value he held to his core.”

That India is his mother; he is a child of this earth
And it is this very bosom he died defending, this hearth.

Image – I stock photo

About Sonal Singh

I believe that life is a repertoire of anecdotes. The various situations that we encounter, the many incidents of every day, the people we meet, our conversations with them; all make life a melange of tales. And, that is what I attempt to capture through my writing. My cooking is no different! It reflects my love for travel and my love for innovation. The kitchen is my happy place. So, even though by vocation I am a recruiter (, by passion I am a writer, home chef and a hodophile.

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