Heroes : The dusk of my life

I was once a soldier

Now I only stare at my uniform

I used to jump over obstacles in my path then

Now I need help getting up from my wheelchair

The sound of my thumping boots was music to my ears

Now i have no legs, blown away by a landmine

I was once a soldier

Bullets- my friends and constant companion for life

Turned to be my own death trap when fired into my body

Lodged in my leg and hands, it didnt kill me instantly

It killed me for life- bit by bit

Medics tried their best, saved me, saved my soul but couldnt save my ability to be a soldier once again

I was once a soldier

My colleagues called me yamraj- the incarnation of death for the enemies.

My throwing arm was my biggest asset and pinpoint accuraccy my strength

I used to clear trenches and positions with grenades

I hadn`t thought about the life the other way

Now i have to, after a grenade exploded near me

My life was spared but a sharpnel tore into my leg, leaving me bleeding and helpless

I guess that was a small price to pay in exchange of my life

Now yamraj is the only fond memory left with me as i sit in my chair and watch the sun set.

I was a heavy gunner and the MMG was my baby

It was a fire spewing dragon who brought about a rain of death in the form of burning lead. 

The sound of its firing was lullaby to my ears

Now i cant hear the lullaby as i long for it

I cant hear anything now, gone deaf from the constant sound of it

I miss hearing everything now- the birds chirping, the sound of the trees and especially my children calling me papa

This was a price I had to pay –unknowingly though

I was once a soldier

I didnt fight on land, sky was my playground

I used to travel faster than the speed of sound reigning death from above and supporting my comrades

I cheated death everytime i flew, everytime...untill just this one time

Ejection was my worst fear and it came true

Landed on my back injuring it

Declared medically unfit to fly, I now have a job In the ATC directing young fighter pilots, but I do miss flying the birds

I was once a soldier

Martyrs are treated as heroes

I was treated the same by the people

My family still treates me as a soldier

Only i know i was once a soldier

Despite my handicap I am still proud that i served my country to the best of my ability

Now i cant hold the rifle or take aim

I can now think about the days gone by

Into the dusk of the day

The dusk of my life

The story behind this-

Soldiers are remembered as only either as Martyrs or as heroes back from war. What about the lives of those who become disabled in war and their careers and dreams are cut short??This prose captures just that feeling.