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POEM: Burning Kashmir

by Huma Bhat

Image: Zainab Mufti

They shed our blood 

merely to slake their ego

But everytime they forget

They, too, will bite the dust

They who have the hanger

for the blood of humanity 

One day the hands of despotism too

will become cold and dead

Our blood might quench their thirst

but for how long we shall endure?

The skies and the mountains outcry,

Praying rugs drenched in tears of blood,

Our roses procure "martyrdom",

They have flitted to the heavens,

how can  half-mothers sleep tonight?

how can they calm their inner tonight?

Written is on the leaves of chinar

"The tales of disappeared buds of decades"

The spring sun looks gloomy here 

saffron fields lay barren and colourless,

O ' ye Lord!

Be my 'GUEST' tonight and see

how the tyrants burn my heaven to ashes,

With no noise, 

no smoke,

no sensations


No "feelings" thereafter.


Our feature on the art of Kashmiri resistance is available here


Huma Bhat is a poet who happens to hail from Srinagar, Kashmir.


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