O Kashmir?

Far stretches Dal Lake’s serene embrace,
Chinars sway with gentle grace.
Mughal gardens bloom in splendid hues,
Is this earth, or God’s own muse?

Rosy lips and faces fair,
Beardless men with flowing hair.
In white kurtas, proud and tall,
Kashmiri youth and elders call.

Black robes wave with silken flight,
Veiled faces hide the light.
Eyes that glance with subtle gleam,
Princesses live here, like a dream.

Yet fear clouds this lovely land,
Mystery veils the peaceful strand.
Smiles fake, and glances sly,
Suspicion lingers, none knows why.

Politics and faith entwined,
Hearts and hopes cruelly confined.
Heaven turned to hell below,
As guns and bombs lay sorrow’s blow.

Shikaras glide, houseboats float,
Yet human pain remains remote.
Saffron scents now drowned and stilled,
By blood-stained hands, the gardens chilled.

Hands once pure with prayer’s art,
Now stained with wounds that break the heart.
Oh Kashmir, your beauty gleams,
Amidst the shadow of shattered dreams.

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