the loss of a mother’s son

On 18 May 1994, five Nepali soldiers serving with the United Nations contingent in Mogadishu were killed by Somali gunmen, and one was later abducted from hospital..The gurkha with a khukri.But no enemy.Works for the United Nations.And yet gets shot at.In missions he doesn't comprehend.Order is hukum, hukum is life.Johnny Gurkha still dies under foreign skies.He never asks why.Politics isn't his style..He's fought against all and sundry:.Turks, Tibetans, Italians and Indians.Germans, Japanese, Chinese, Vietnamese and.Argentineans..Loyalty to the utmost.Never fearing a loss..The loss of a mother's son.From the mountains of Nepal..Her grandpa died in Burma.For the glory of the British..Her husband in Mesopotemia,.She knows not against whom.No one did tell her..Her brother fell in France,.Against the Teutonic hordes..She prays to Shiva of the Snows for peace.And her son's safety.Her only joy, her only hope.Farming on a terraced slope..A son who helped wipe her tears.And ease the pain in her mother's heart..A frugal mother who lives by the seasons.And peers down to the valleys.Year in and year out.In expectation of her soldier son..A smart gurkha is on the way.Heard from across the hill with a shout.'Tis an officer with his batallion..A letter with a seal and poker-face."Your son died on duty," he says."Keeping peace for the country and the.United Nations.".A world crumbles down.And comes to an end.A lump in the Nepali mother's throat.She cannot utter a word..Gone is her son,.Her precious jewel..Her only insurance and sunshine.In the craggy hills..And with him her dreams.A Spartan life that kills.