Kashmir Awakes.

…and,
kashmir wakes up to a
Dream. Walking bare foot,
the roads of history.

Stirring the irony of now,
rebelling the chains of future.
Re-inventing its own existence,
exiled for some years.

Finally,
I hear -
Kashmir Speaks,
for himself and all others around.

Its beauty so chaste and lyrical,
tales of exhilarating past.
Old woven fairy tales and
lullabies in moon lit night.

Its talks of ugly scars,
dare to the natural rhythms.
Of denounced dignity, lifeless existence and
courageous revolts.

And more of;
barbed wires; shackled mountains; blood stains.
fear of death; heroism of youth; young widows.
fighters; victims and brave mothers.

Speaks of everything witnessed,
every secret borne in its chest
of life and young death, of
beauty and the beasts.

Beauty; dazzling snow clad mountains,
gigantic chinar tree’s, small water springs,
twinkling sunlight emerging from dal lake.
Zabarvan: Mahadev: Kolohoi: Harmukh.

Young dreams and old experiences,
killing the gap of generations.
Living thoughts and the will,
taking to height the new woven worlds.

Much remains to be unsaid
but promise be,
we will hear it again
…and pin the hope on freedom to come.