If we had to ask for a tangible proof of unconditional love, we need only look to our mother. Such is the sheer depth of our mother’s love that we taste the familiarity in everything she prepares. This very taste pulls us back to her comforting lap and makes us homebound no matter how far we are. For the Jawans at the border, the pull for their mothers is just as profound. And while they serve the country with a brave face, they crave for a slice of heaven that their mothers so effortlessly dish out.