Was it hard to die, Arjun,
So very hard to die!
No songs of battle to soothe your nerves,
No memory of dearest love
of Krishna and her sons.
Breeze blew soft from south sea
against morn’s cheeks,
conch shells were blowing sublime
what is the meaning of staying alive
in the midst of death.
I would rather follow silent dark
Stalking restlessly! Sweet are dreams
Sweet is the loving curves of lips
I turned from love to battle
I would turn again to love.
It made me a whimpering wimp,
He told me soul would not die
But I loved body with the soul
I liked the warmth of his kisses
I loved this whiff of sod, aroma of mother
earth, it was
my love with winds, stars and peaks of snow
would make me immortal,
It was hard to die without love.
This poem is dedicated to the memory of my friend, Arjun, who died in the battle of Kargil on the Himalayan peaks of N. W. frontiers of India. Few allusions from epic Mahabharata.