Independence Day, a Soldier

I get up to witness the early morning haze,

And I feel a cool breeze blowing across the window of my room,

As I wrap myself in the sheet to get comfortable,

I think about a soldier,

A soldier who stays awake all night,

In the coldest of the winds,

Blowing incessantly across the snow capped mountains,

He is fighting the cold, sleep and feelings,

Feelings that make him want to be closer to his family, his friends, 

But he continuously drives them away, because he is serving a cause,

He is there for his nation, for us, for protecting the borders of ‘our’ motherland,

And in the safety net given to me by him and many others alike,

I witness a contrast, a contrast between indulgence and passion,

A passion which makes the soldier’s suffering sacred and worthy,

And a celebrated indulgence in rhetoric and depravity,

As I walk through the silent streets of my city,   

On the morning of our independence day,

I see indifference, utter disrespect,

Like the souls inside the sleeping bodies are silently smiling,

Asking me if this day really means something?

Some of us stay silent, some others are vocal,

While we belittle the sacrifices made by a soldier on borders,

We are all caught up in the web of our own meaningless lives,

A life that we live selfishly, only for ourselves, every day,

Flag hoisting, a mere token of respect looks meaningless,

For the selfless contributions made by a soldier,

He doesn't need the splendor and celebrations,

His life is on the edge, every hour and every moment,

It takes courage to face the bullet for someone unknown,

For all the money and splendor, will ‘you’ ever change the role?