With the knock of world wars, came along heavy streams of blood; massive, MASSIVE destruction. My bravery is like the minutest atom when I picture the whole scenario. And I guess, “Martyr” is just a word; pacing up with the rigorous strength, selflessness and courage of a soldier.
India Gate was designed by an English architect Edwin Lutyens, specifically to pay a tribute to 82000 soldiers of the Indian Army. I don’t want to sound selfish or something, but India had nothing to do with the war-stuff. Go grab a tonne-weighed history book, flip across its pages and tell me WHEN India initiated a war. It only fought to guard itself.
Today, India gate is merely an epitome of sight-seeing, picnicking or selfies. “Oh!!! To ye Britisher ne banaya hai” (Oh! So a British has made this); I eavesdropped on three people from different groups.
I see the eternal flame, waving in the air, with a rifle topped with war-cap beside it. I see the army-man unmoved, guarding all of this. I see a moment of pride, immense pride; immense respect in his eyes.