A tiny five year old
Claps excitedly
zoom fly the sixth fighter jet,
"Mommeee look plane
One two five ten",
Tiny hands clap boisterously,

 Yes shining with distant dreams,
Peering into the dusky clouds,
A thin trail of smoke
Left by fighter planes getting smudged,
The clouds slowly scattering its remains,
Mommy can I ever reach there,

 A tiny little finger,
Points breathlessly at the sky,
Heights of ecstasy expressed,
In shrill cries when ,
Mommy says yes my son you can,
These are the brave valiant pilots,

 The revered segment of our defence,
Our fighter pilots,
Protecting the mother land
Ever so bravely and fearlessly,
My baby you want to reach the skies,
You need to work harder,

 Let dedication, diligence and fighting spirit
Hone your sedate and latent talents,
Skies could just be the beginning my child,
You can fly higher than your dreams,
The tiny little lad
Excelling at life's every test,

 Crossing with brilliance each hurdle,
Grows mommy's pet and papa's boy,
Emulating each gesture,
Of his Airforce officer papa,
Eager eyes still peering the skies,
Ears straining for those familiar,

 Zooming overhead Jaguars,  Jets, MIGS,
Flying through High school,  with flying colours,
National Defense Academy takes within its grillng fold,
The top rankers at its entrance test,
Our little lad takes the first covetted seat,
Excelling at each awesome gruelling feat,

 Selected to train as a fighter pilot,
Planes which were distant dreams,
Were solid shining realities so close and how,
Surpassing all competition was a fighter pilot now,
His dreams were the skies,
The dusky beautiful clouds,

 Piercing the vast skies,
Protecting his mother land,
The little five year old ,
Now all of twenty five,
Smiles with heavenly pleasure,
The passing out parade with all its finery,

 See courageous and dedicated batch of lads,
Proud parents clap with tear stained hands,
Is this tall handsome young officer,
Their little toddler the sky peerer,
Uniformed smart gallant officer,
wish granted ,dreams accompalished,

 The young man sees a damsel,
Falls in love with her loveliness,
Proposes to the lovely lady,
Baring his heart and soul to her,
The beauty of his dreams coyly accepts
Marriage is planned and date is fixed,

 Suddenly a part of Mother Earth,
Segragated by its own off springs,
Comes alive with war cries,
Blaring war sirens announce the war,
A part of Her land being,
The cause of so much blood shed,

 Soldiers on both sides mercilessly,
Killed and butchered at the altar,
The so called defence of Mother land,
Leaving his beloved betrothed,
Wedding preparations and revelries,
Friends and relatives look aghast,

 Stay back for the wedding my son,
Plead tear sodden eyes of the mother,
Having Lost her husband a year back,
Her heart shudders at ravages of war,
Tears flow down the fair maiden's cheeks,
Eyes look helplessly at the lover,

 The fighter pilot looks back not,
Wearing his war gear leaves loved ones behind,
Call of the motherland surpasses all other calls,
Flies away to the border the true son of the land,
News broadcast his every award winning action,
The war sirens fade his country emerges the winner,

 Back home his loved ones heave,
That long forgotten sigh of relief,
Wedding preparations restart with fresh gusto,
One last Sortie he wishes to take,
Does not want to betray his Mother for his sake,
Has pledged to free his land of deadly intruders,

 The last traces of the enemy tanks spitting fires,
Flies the MIG waving at the ground staff,
Entreating them all to accompany him,
For his wedding that was rescheduled,
Now with all gusto would be tomorrow,
His leave starts from that evening,

 His buddies smile back with twinkling eyes,
Promising to keep his stuff packed,
Singing and dancing to the tune of bhangra,
His pals plan how to save his shoes,
From his so called saalies his bride's sisters,
Swaying in the joys of peace and gaiety,

 Happiness all around suddenly freezes,
MIG carrying the gallant fighter pilot,
In a jiffy is engulfed by a ball of fire,
Ear bursting explosion is all that takes,
To blow the young son, brother, lover on duty,
Into unrecognisable useless smithereens,

 Blown into pieces were his childhood dreams,
Dreams of reaching undaunted skies of success,
Dreams of marrying his lovely fair maiden,
Dreams of fathering tiny lads with bigger dreams,
Dreams of looking after his widowed mother,
Dreams of dreaming and nurturing enticing dreams,

 Each time a MIG crashes killing someone's lad,
Crushing dreams, desires of hearts and souls,
Flood gates of my heart freeze with a question mark....
How many more young lads will the MIGS devour,
When will the sleepy occupants of the Power Seats wake up,
When will their and the MIGS hunger satiate,

 Do I see a tiny lad again clapping,
Zooming fighter plane catching his fancy,
Nudging at his mother's frozen gaze,