By Ananya Singh
Beyond the Pir Panjal lies the land of passes,
Traversed since the ancient by disparate masses.
Drained by the Sindhu,
Lying over thousands of metres high,
It is the sky-soaring mountains that catch the beholder's eye.
But amidst the bare slopes,
Lie the tales that stood the test of time,
Wounded by the neighbour's betrayal mime.
With each snow-clad peak telling a story,
Of how they still rose to glory.
A turning point was the sino-predator in the east that brought us on our toes,
Creating the India crowned with foes.
To the west is Kargil, where "Ye dil maange mor" was all that Captain Batra longed for,
And Captain Pandey stood by his words of defeating death, unless he proves what his blood is worth of.
The path to conquer Tiger hill was paved by Captain Nayyar,
And one burst of fire was all that it took to make Col Thapar the proudest father.
Lt Shamsher proved to be too good for the whaleback,
And the Indian army became the toughest nut to crack.
Where none of the 17 bullets could make Grenadier Yogendra succumb,
And a missile from Raveena Tandon brought Pakis their death summon.
To the north is Siachen, the inhospitable heartland, residence of the extraordinary men.
Where strength is not muscular, but of the limitless mind,
And as the caveats find, only the best of friends and worst of enemies visit this highest battleground.
Guarding it as their home, in their olive green,
they defy what nature thought, would be beyond where life could mean.
It is ladakh, where nature's mighty miracles
meet the fortitude of indian marvels.
Where the river flow is mighty,
But the blood flowing in their veins is mightier.
The summits, that seem undominated,
over them, they stand undefeated.
Valleys have echoed with the bofors bombardment,
Sowing the barren land with seeds of their courageous testament.
After all, it is the pristine areana of
'jai hind ki sena'