The Forgotten Land in The Mountains

The splendour and salubriousness of the Kashmir Valley is legendary. According to poets and historians, Kashmir is more beautiful than the heaven and is the benefactor of supreme bliss and happiness. It is the best place in the Himalayas, a country where the sun shines mildly. The valley is an emarald set of pearls, a land of lakes, clear streams, green meadows, magnificent trees and mighty mountains where the air is cool, and the water sweet, where men are strong, and women vie with the soil in fruitfulness.
I was spellbounded by this spectacular mountain valley views since I was a school girl. Kashmir has become my point of destination and that one perfect chance I would one day wish to set my foot on and stood there in person to watch those natural beauty with my naked eye.

I am aware of her perplexed political history, that this majestic rich heaven is a land of unresolved dispute, occupied and left abandoned for almost seven decades. Kashmir is like a live-volcano, waiting to kaboom its hot fiery lava of discontentment and dissatisfaction, the anger and determination for freedom from the overstayed guests.

The murderous ambush upon their combative, fanatical youth leader has sparked an immediate cause of an enormous deadly uprising in the valley. It was as though a hungry revengeful lion has been awaken from its long slumber. Kashmir is now on torches of angers. She is boiling with rage of overwhelming revenge,  unstoppable and could never be cooled down unless her righteous freedom, self-determination and independence delivered to them by hook or by crook, an eye for an eye, otherwise they will battle themselves to the last drop of blood and sweat. Nothing could ever make them surrender,  it is now or never. 

A Letter To Kashmir

Dear Kashmir,

I have knowledge concerning your survival in my History classes duringou are positioned in the Himalayan mountainous region and is distinguished for your beautiful panoramic vista and terrains that pleases the aesthetic senses, so alluring and eye-appealing which fascinated me till now. You are a wealthy and prosperous nation. They say if you are on your own,  you will be a country bigger than 126 countries on the globe. Why not?  You own the most costliest spice in the world, the saffron. You have your decorative handicrafts, walnuts, mushrooms and apples.  Not forgetting the highest power generation capacity, the tonnes of diversed minerals as well as your best quality sapphire stones.

No wonder your neighbours China, India and Pakistan are envious of you and that they have been mingling with you with a feeling of admiration since the conclusion of the British rule in 1947 which left you as the subject of a territorial conflict.

The black-neck crane, pretty lotus flowers and the monumental Chinar trees are your symbols which I know by sight very clearly. This majestic deciduous tree, the Chinar,  is found in almost your every village. It is a long-living tree and has several properties, a perfect symbol for your longevity and survival.

My dear Kashmir, 

I have been dreaming of you since those college days and I really wish to step my foot on your soil for once in my lifetime,  yet I was distracted by obstacles in life that I had to put aside my interest in you as to give way to more important matters that need my full attention. However, the thought of seeing you never lose the balance of my mind.

Although I am 3,000 miles away,  I know about your long sufferings, your frustrations and aspirations. You want to be freed from the clutches of your master because you are being unfairly treated in your own land.  I know how it feels to be denied and disrespected in your own inheritance.

I feel lucky now that we have all the convenience to get connected with people over the globe through the internet access. The few hombres from your breed, to whom I make friends with on the social media are awesome and brilliant human beings,  beautiful creatures with beautiful minds and that honestly speaking I have fallen in deep love with one of your sons whom I met in April this year. He is my inspiration.  I began to start working back on my passion in writing after I met him.
Kashmir,  I thought I have lost your son after he went back to you last summer break. When Burhan Wani was martyred on 8 July, I was devastated not only by the killing of your commander but also by your son's whereabouts and safety for I came to know that your whole valley was in great mess by the melee. However I felt grateful that your introvert son survived, alive and well and that he is furthering his studies in the capital now,  leaving his family and his hometown with the hope that they are under the protection of Allah The Great.

I am thankful to your kind hearted son for still keeping in touch with me until now, in spite of his busy routine. Hopefully one fine opportunity, we are able to come face to face for real.  Thank you.

From,
Crane, Lotus & Chinar

The Falls In The Land of Uzarseef

Hello Autumn,

Don't be sad we miss our annual rendezvous in your valley during your spell this year. We know you're a faithful lover and not once you ever betray us. You always keep your promise and without fail to make yourself available in every October.

It's not your fault that you are surrounded by the whole shebang and it looks as though no one is not falling victim to your heavenliness bliss.

Believe it! Not for a moment that we are not fascinated by your charms. Yet, the occurrences in your neighborhood keep us at a distance from you. We concluded that the currently ongoing intifada in your earthland is the repercussions of the illegal annexation and the long, pending human atrocities.

Please tell the living souls of your people not to be upset and give up. They have the right to choose their path.  It is their sacred privilege. Brief them to follow their passion, stay true to themselves. We don't want them to tumble down to the ground and get decomposed worthlessly.  We want them to fight and fall in love instead.

Watching your deciduous  trees shed their leaves, reminds us of the falling lives of your comrades in the bloody clashes. They risked their beings to free your ancestral land from the clutches of tyranny and injustice. The fiery red colors of your season resembles their fighting spirit. They fell like falling leaves and they were indeed a beauty in the eyes of the mortals.

Know that this is a war of nerve the intruders are playing. Their attitude is waiting for your people to wear out. The sense of hopelessness might not be a good news for your future, so tell your people never ever get worn out. Stay strong and have faith. Don't give up. Your martyrs' efforts must not be wasted. Bear in your mind that one of these days the victory in the shape of independence will be yours.

My dear Autumn, 

We are aware that the unrest in your land has been going for four months and makes it the longest period in the history. Thousands were injured and killed, and some could no longer watch your grandeur anymore, for as long as they live. Their magnificent eyes are being blinded by the demonic pellet guns. Unrelentless protests continue in almost every part of your valley. The paterfamilias with the heart and mind to bring the quarrelling brood together is missing. They lack the vision and generosity to reach out and embrace your people who feel alien and unwanted. They may call your people brothers, but I know they are actually treating them  like stepchildren. 

Your people demand their rights of self-determination, but in return they are terminated with pellets and bullets. Your grounds is a global friction and that the patriarch should seriously think about it for the sake of humanity. Hear what your people want.
Their land as their soil.

Autumn darling, I love your favourite season,  my cozy friend who returns loyally each and every year. I will always love the Chinar trees until their leaves fall off.  I will encourage them to try again next year and may be I would come running to you, Kashmir. ❤

🍁🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂
🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂

The Best To Have, The Hardest To Keep

The Best  To Have, The Hardest To Keep

I met him early this year in April and we fell into places very easily. He often talks explicitly with no beating about the bush, so plain speaking, and without hesitation. However he's generally very charming and has a way of talking that is comforting. He doesn't really like asking too many things or making demands.  

I never came face to face with him but when I recurrently rattled on with him, I came to learn more about his assence and tone. I'm not blowing my own trumpet,  but sometimes I do able to define people's motives with almost 100% probability, and therefore, remain objective in my assessments. People for me are like an open book, I can easily see anyone through. Many of my friends value my ability to see the eye of the problem a lot, and they say quite often that I could be an excellent psychologist.  Ha!! 😎

However, this exceptional hombre, undoubtedly puts me up into a big confrontation. Quite often he is too silent, an introvert and that he gives me a hard time to pinpoint or explain his attitude. It's like trying to answer a riddle - mysterious and unpredictable. Even so,  I began to understand and unravel him little by little as our friendship blossoms. I came to learn that he's a strong-willed person, independent and very capable. Sometimes he's needy and require a lot of attention. On the contrary, I could feel that he also like spaces and gets annoyed at clinginess. 

As I mingled with him from day to day,  I have the feeling that he likes to protect his vulnerability through humour and a cool exterior, not a biased person and has a very warm and symphatetic heart. He may seem weak and subtle, but you must be very careful with him. If he thinks you're not worth to him, he'll treat you like a complete stranger every time you text him. He can go ice just as fast as he senses it. He can read your thoughts and he is observing your energy and mood.

When he snaps, "Leave it!", it's the end of the issue - change the subject!  Everything you do or say is deeply felt by him. If you hurt his feelings, be prepared to apologize, if not, you are shut out of his world completely. When he stops caring, there will be no second chance. Once he is fade up,  he will not come back. 

He's complicated but he's like a tattoo to me. He has touched my heart and has become a permanent part of me. I can't breathe without him around. That's my life - the best found, the hardest to keep. 

I Want To Die In Love With You

I want to die in love with you

My love to you is a dangerous disease. It is like a deadly cancer, silently destroying every bit of cells of calmness and tranquility, biting every piece of unperturbed mind, and complicating the blood system of anxiety and expectations. The soul screaming in silence, so heart- wrenching to endure that the body collapse into deterioration, damaging the beauty of its perfections.

Every day and moment it was so tensed and painful. Days and weeks are filled with hopes and wonders of heartaches, suffocating and gasping for air in search of every last straw to ease and heal the pain of wanting you.

The pain of love is so unbearable urging for therapy of closeness and comfort that only the strongest drugs of euphoria would help to end the torture. There is no better option of treatment than to be together, to feel each other, to be loved, seduced and ravished - to quench the thirst of lust. No other medication so curable than the embraces, hugs and kisses to ecstacy of love making.

My cancer for you has reached the final stage, the climax.  Our destiny is heading towards the end. The most awaited perfect moment is on its way to end this torment of madness. The moment we meet and stare into each other's eyes, is the moment when our love dies - snatched away by the angels of truth and actuality.

It is when all the mysteries of expectations fall apart. All the puzzles finally come into places and the real picture is brought to light. There's no hope. The cancer is not worth fighting for. And I'm willing to be unplugged by you, for the pain is too long and insufferable. It's suicidal but I'd rather die in honour, in your sadistic embrace in our love nest. I give in to you with the hope of both, to be cured and killed at the same time, as I wanted to die in love with you.

The Forgotten Land of Uzarseef

The splendour and salubriousness of the Kashmir Valley is legendary. According to poets and historians, Kashmir is more beautiful than the heaven and is the benefactor of supreme bliss and happiness. It is the best place in the Himalayas, a country where the sun shines mildly. The valley is an emarald set of pearls, a land of lakes, clear streams, green meadows, magnificent trees and mighty mountains where the air is cool, and the water sweet, where men are strong, and women vie with the soil in fruitfulness.

I was spellbounded by this spectacular mountain valley views since I was a school girl. Kashmir has become my point of destination and that one perfect chance I would one day wish to set my foot on and stood there in person to watch those natural beauty with my naked eye.

It never crosses my mind that out of million other marvellous things in the world,  I would be enchanted not only by her nature, but also by one of the sons of her ancestors whom I met on the line. He is the most magnificent attraction I have ever encountered and that my heart and soul were under his clutches, bewitched and captivated by his perfections which camouflaged perfectly with the awesomeness of his homeland.

I am aware of her perplexed political history, that this majestic rich heaven is a land of unresolved dispute, occupied and left abandoned for almost seven decades. Kashmir is like a live-volcano, waiting to kaboom its hot fiery lava of discontent and dissatisfaction, the anger and determination for freedom from the overstayed guests.

The murderous ambush upon their combative, fanatical youth leader has sparked an immediate cause of an enormous deadly uprising in the valley. It was as though a hungry revengeful lion has been awaken from its long slumber. Kashmir is now on torches of angers. She is boiling with rage of overwhelming revenge,  unstoppable and could never be cooled down unless her righteous freedom, self-determination and independence delivered to them by hook or by crook, an eye for an eye, otherwise they will battle themselves to the last drop of blood and sweat. Nothing could ever make them surrender,  it is now or never. 

My Love Is A War

Life is funny. Just when you think you've got it all figured out, just when you finally begin to plan something, get excited about it and feel like you know what direction you're heading in, the path change, the signs change, the wind blows the other way, north is suddenly south, and east is west and you're lost. The truth is you don't know what is going to happen tomorrow. Life is a scary ride, and nothing is guaranteed.

Never had I passed my days without counting the seconds, minutes and hours to finally grab my bags, leave a note, and go!  I just can't wait to go somewhere secret where we can fall in love and set our soul on fire - for real, flesh, blood and bones. No more imaginings. No more daydreamings. Nothing but the truth.

However, my overwhelming urge to run away is shattered by a war at the border, a bloody symptom of man's failure as a thinking animal, a failure of democracy, a cowardly escape from the problem of peace and the trade of kings. The war breaks and hinders your every beautiful things, every hopes, love and dreams on the flight to happiness. 

My love for you is just like the war, it always finds a way. It all began when I failed to bring my heart and my mind into a diplomatic, peace talk. My soul declares war on the heart just after a launch of surgical strike on the mind. The oppression was so great that the soul chooses to love, an escape from the problem of confusion, the last option of democracy. I was defeated and surrendered myself in the conflict. I  am a soldier who was conquered and fell hard for you, held captive and brutally tortured emotionally, in a matter of moments, the minute I saw your name without knowing the real you. My whole being was haunted and occupied by your ghost. 

Once the love takes over the battle field,  it's difficult to end and impossible to forget. It has been recorded, written and could not be erased in the book of life history. Both the war and love need sacrifices and hurts and all the thousand shocks of life. They are the gloriest dreams of determination, an attractive rainbow that rises in showers of tears and the worst of nightmares when you lose. But it also means beauty of independence - true beauty. No matter how painful it is, my war with you is one of the prettiest things that crosses my life border, my Line of Control.❤
#windsofchange#
#prayforkashmir#