By Shipra Sen
Small boy in awe of father in Uniform clad,
Tried wearing the beret and boots of Dad.
The crisp salutes he imitated,
The stature of Dad he copied.
The humilty of his family he was proud of,
The values instilled from childhood was what he was made of.
Growing years he saw his Father's passion translated into hardwork,
All situations come what may conquered.
He felt pangs of agony during needs due to separation,
Sacrificed many festivals without his Father with tear blurred vision.
Still the boy grows up to be like his father,
He will be away from family ,he knows but doesn't matter.
The day he dons his first uniform with fervour,
Father,proudly puts his own epaullets on his shoulders.
First salute of an Young Officer to a Senior Officer,
Auto switch off of emotional bonding
Now emotions for Nation First is seen responding.
Mother is visibly choked in emotions ,in the background.
Strong and brave mother is filled with awe of her siblings duty for thy country,
Both soldiers now salute, the Mother and The Motherland with dignity, pride and sincerely
Heartthrob of the mother is now .heart beat of the Motherland
Shipra Sen, (copyright reserved)
Very touching poem Shipra reflecting your own inner feelings which can be smelt very well. A big salute to a brave, strang mother like you 🫡❤️🙏 Heartiest congratulations Shipra for most deserving award 👍👌👏❤️🙏
Lovely heart touching piece ..you are such a motivation for all
Lovely heart touching piece ..you are such a motivation for all
Shipra di….your poem Heart Beat actually seems to touch the heart of the reader…..especially the part where ,both the son and father salute the mother and the motherland …the mother’s emotions are so obvious ….she seems to be alive before the reader…keep writing such beautiful pieces…such a motivation to all
A heart touching beautiful poetry of soldier father & son. Beautifully explained the feelings of a mother in appropriate words.
What a beautiful way to express!! Your poetry touches straight to the heart ❤️❤️❤️
So beautifully expressed. Love you lots
No words to your multifaceted talents Shipra!!The picturesque discription of a patriotic mother of her son, who is bewitched by every gait of his Fauji father .and the etching of ,the values of his family , deep inside him, which makes him follow the footsteps of his role model.
your discription;
“He felt pangs of agony during need,due to separation ,sacrificed many festivals without his Father with tear blurred vision” and also discription of a mother’s silent feelings are truly heart stirring!
Hats off to your poem with deeply felt emotions .
Your poem Heart Beat truly touched me.
It transported me back to the cherished memories of my sons’ childhood.
I was fortunate to experience that same tender emotion—twice—with just two years separating the two moments.
Both boys, since their toddler days, were fascinated by my uniform.
They loved holding my cane, wearing my oversized cap, and trying to step into my ankle boots as I changed into civilian clothes. These simple moments are etched in my memory forever.
Being posted to a peace station during their early years was a blessing—I could witness their growth firsthand. Of course, they missed me during my high-altitude postings in Gurez and Arunachal. I still remember how they would open my almirah, stare at the uniforms I had left behind, and just sit there, until their mother would gently chase them out of the master bedroom.
Yes, I did miss a few birthdays and school functions—but I have no regrets. My wife stood as a pillar of strength, guiding them in my absence.
The most precious moment of my life was witnessing both their POP from the IMA . It was even more special because I stood there alongside my father-in-law, who incidentally was also my Commanding Officer many years agi. Together, we pinned their epaulettes as they became Lieutenants. And I was humbled to be the first to receive their salute as commissioned officers. It was an emotional and unforgettable moment.
Needless to say that none of this would have been possible without my wife’s unwavering support. She took extra care in my absence, instilling the right values and discipline in our boys. It was her quiet strength that ensured they remained focused on their goal of wearing the uniform one day.
Shipra, your poetry was not just eloquent—it was deeply relatable by every Def offrs family. You stirred memories that made me nostalgic for those beautiful years.
Well done.🫡 Keep nurturing gift of Almighty bestowed on you.
God bless 🌹🙏
Shipra your words brought back those heartfelt moments when we attended our son’s POP at NDA & IMA! Tears of pride and joy glistened when he got his MTech from IIT Kharargpur while being in uniform! Those endless hours of hardwork were accepted most cheerfully by him ….we realised how well he had got trained! Our gratitude to the Armed Forces for inculcating such values !! Your profound words we could absolutely identify! So well penned! Congratulations!!!
The day I first saluted my Baba in uniform at my POP is etched deep within. A Fauji baccha’s pride surged, my spine tingled, eyes sparkled—he stood tall, still serving. That moment was more than ceremony—it was love, pride, legacy. A lifetime of awe bloomed in a single salute.
Thankyou so much Shipra boudi you kindled a train of beautiful thoughts, so nice of you and so well written it triggered the thoughts.
The day I first saluted my Baba in uniform at my POP is etched deep within. A Fauji baccha’s pride surged, my spine tingled, eyes sparkled—he stood tall, still serving. That moment was more than ceremony—it was love, pride, legacy. A lifetime of awe bloomed in a single salute.
Thankyou so much Shipra boudi you kindled a train of beautiful thoughts, so nice of you and so well written it triggered the thoughts.
Enormously talented ,well educated, multifaceted, a highly spiritualistic homemaker,…my life partner, couldn’t ever imagine that she writes so well., recollecting my younger days, with both my children, brought up the way she emotionally mentioned. Kudos. Simply Hats Off. Power of such an expression is not merely in the words, but in the feelings, emotions, recollections behind it.
Jai Hind.