Amidst swaying waters on a boat house,
by Dr. Girish Kute
In the milieu of snow-clad peaks, beauty vales,
Hand-knit scarves adorning beauty females,
To tell you of a blessed Kashmir tale,
Stupefies yet without ale.
Throbbing landscapes, breathtaking waterfalls
The kahwa odour and the pulao vigor
Pleasing to senses.
A paradise on earth.
The sistering vale
Tells an unlike tale.
Says the sobbing peak,
Sees diwali and holi every week,
Played with bullets, spraying blood,
Peak that once snow covered,
Melting to the heat of grenade and bomb,
Eyes once filled with love and aplomb,
Overshadowed by fear.
The ones once living in joy
Life shorter than of a toy.
Longing to say, dare not,
Wanting to be free, cannot.
A free haven,
Now struggling to be curfew free.
With life in the docks
Streets shut with locks,
The once resonance of sage's penance,
Now the militants menace,
Beauty still exists,
But lives don’t persist
Our jeweled crown
Spiked and thorn
It’s a paradise lost
In the paradigm of paradox.