Quill, Write Ups

Dear Kashmir,

“What is kept in name?” Well in my case it is connection to the paradise on earth, to you. “A millennial that has never seen her homeland” has been my identity for long.
We have a deep relation although we have just met each other twice. And although we live apart I cherish you as an obscure dream.
I hear my parents tell tales about your magnificent past and how they had to leave you behind to start a new life in a new world. What intrigues me is the spark in their eyes when they speak of you. Alas, the cold winds of hatred bruise the beautiful soul you used to be.  The wounds that lie on your heart could never possibly be healed when a mother is left without her son who thought he was fighting for heaven. I might never understand your pain when you are just reduced to deaths, resentment and apathy. Every day you die a thousand painful deaths when you are a mere spectacle of bloodshed that fills the air with a stench of loathsome freedom that you never wanted.

Violated, hurt and yet oblivion you stand there still.

Then there are those who think they are protecting you from clutches but instead tear you down. You are talked of but never really heard. You voice has become the screeching of guns and the wailing of mothers. My love, you are not a land of stone pelters or the rhetoric of manipulative politicians but that of estranged lovers like us.

You are phenomenal and you will overcome the grief and conflicts.

The Dal, Shalimar and Jhelum will sing tales of glory.

Hard times shall pass, clouds of despair will vanish.

We will meet when Sun shines upon us.

Till then this heart wrenching wait will be the testimony of our uncanny love.  

Your estranged lover,

A girl far from home…

One thought on “Dear Kashmir,”

  1. Anhad says:

    Simply beautiful. I am teary eyed after reading this.

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