Perfumed bodies, clothes and social rivalries.
The single malt doesn't go down easy
I have the boys of 6 Dogra on my mind.
Unit going home, bright 8am Manipur morning
Lessons of decades forgotten in hope
The tyranny of the ambush, the dreams of loved ones.
And the Home Minister orders revenge
Intelligence failure, and shot up bodies
NOK, widows, children, snuffed out hopes
The boys of 6 Dogra dead for an ungrateful union.
Wives will wipe their vermillion
I am crying in my Whiskey
The ghosts of Chandel multiply.
Retribution. You get us, we'll get you back
We will destroy your identities, your homes, your bodies.
As we weep, you will weep too.
Let's wipe them out, thoko saalo ko
Can we put the union to bed
Can India be India.