Wandering over the Monmouth battlefield, I idly wondered, whether the American patriots who fought there so long ago, would be so passionate, if they knew that their fight included me, a brown-skinned Hindu. Though such thoughts were probably farthest from their minds. They would eventually drive Cornwallis out of America, and he would next go to India, where his career was a tad more successful. No one can trace the chain of events, but I land up on these shores. If they knew, perhaps they would apologize to Cornwallis.
And today I wonder, about the soldiers in Iraq. I don't want them to be there, I do not want to accept their sacrifice, I do not want their protection against a non-existent threat, a war based on non-truths.
Reluctant they may have been, but they have no say in the matter, I walk on their battlefield, invoking their ghosts. Reluctant am I, but I have expended my choice fruitlessly, and they continue to march into battle.
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