Brevity, Quill


You gave us the spirit to live a purposeful life. Your lush meadows and beautiful trees, the sparkling water in the small streams. The lakes, the shikaras and the valley of mountains. There is more to you than the tourists you attract. There is more to you than the people who find shelter in your warmth. There is more to you than the different faiths you embody. You are a blazing fire of hope amidst the ruins of shattered dreams and crumpled ambitions. You are the rarest flower blooming in adversity. You are resilient even when soldiers die for you. Because you know, that whatever may come, whatever may happen, the traitor is not you.

You have seen death. You have seen calculated murder. You have witnessed gory killings. And, today, the blood on your soil has been avenged. I see you smiling, a teary eyed smile, because, my beautiful home, at last your whispers have turned into blood curdling cries. At last, slumber has given way to action. At last, the 40 jawans have been avenged.

Kashmir, my friend, no one knows how long people would fight over you, how many soldiers would die for you and how many innocents would bid you adieu. But you would stand strong, in solidarity with those who lay down their lives to protect you, an eternal flame of hope for everyone.