By Kalpna Singh-Chitnis
“To be killed in a war is not the worst that can happen. To be lost is not the worst. To be forgotten is the worst.” ~ Pierre Claeyssens
So, do you get up and go to war,
Every single day as we go to the office,
After breakfast, sending our children to school,
Kissing our loved ones goodbye, driving a fancy car,
Often complaining about weather forecasts?
Do you bring your favorite lunch to work?
Do you wear a suit or sweater in winter,
To keep yourself warm?
What about fancy shoes and cologne
Like memories of lazy summer?
Do you have time to adore your pets
And admire flowers in your garden
Before heading to work?
Do you follow a schedule,
Clock in time every day?
Can you call in sick whenever you wish?
Or do you have a stern-faced boss who sits
In an air-conditioned office in a plush chair
Twirling a pencil between his fingers
Ready to give you a strike mark?
Are there labor laws in war?
How many hours a day do you work?
Are you given breaks to worship and stretch,
To call your family or girlfriend, text mom
Or dad, that you can’t wait to see them soon?
What do you eat for lunch and dinner?
What time do you go to bed?
How much rest do you get every day?
Do you listen to music and dream
Like we do, in your bunker?
What wakes you up?
An alarm, or birds, singing in the forest?
A nightmare, or a reveille? Do you meditate
And sip tea in silence like me in the morning?
Or run like a wild horse till you break into sweat?
Is there a ‘Take Your Child to Work’ day, in war?
Or you do not want a child to know what a war looks like?
Don’t you want us to believe that the earth beneath your feet is
protected by the sky? How many times do you lie to veil the truth
One must not know, often laying down your life?
When was the last time you took a vacation?
Was it long enough to catch up with sleep,
Makeup with your loved ones, and bribe them
For your absence? I wonder, what do you say to
Your family, year after year, when you go home!
Do you read to them the war poems that you write
At the end of the day, and post them on Facebook?
Or you hide your words and live with the pain
Of not saying what a human is born to say?
Tell me, O soldier! When you go home,
Being half poet and half beast,
With a heart half shattered and half repaired,
Do you allow anyone to touch you where you hurt most?
Or do you draw a circle of fire around you in which
You burn alone, so others can have the light of hope?
Tell me, O soldier! What do you do,
Without any pretense, so I can write all about that
Which will never come out of your pen. Do not sigh!
As it creates a hole in the heart of the sky
No god can mend!
This poem is dedicated to all warrior poets and writers who have fought in wars, and to the poets and writers who have been the victims of wars. Let’s not forget them and their sacrifices. ~ Kalpna Singh-Chitnis – 03.21.24
