| Rue of a Woman half–widowed,
The Ordeal of a girl yearning to see her father,
The sigh from the broken soul of a Mother,
And, the mourning of a Friend.
You Ain’t gonna escape, when you
Incur into this Conflict Zone....Where
Blood is flowing ubiquitously,
Where skies gloom with a spark of earth underneath,
Asseverating that We cry with you, bleed with you
Your grief is not concealed to us, thus we espouse Black attire...
My life here is fallacious, I'm scared if I survive through
I See death everywhere, the blood is no more scary
My ears are prone to the rattling gun
My eyes don't cry, they say the glands are dry...
My mind is befuddled, Humans are huddled...
Nooses are tightened, Gun powder is nebulized.
Women widowed, orphans are birthed
ya, that is the plight of a zone conflicted
I see my life threatened, my affairs undermined...
My future jeopardized and my wealth petrified...
They say I behave abnormal...think anomalous,
Diagnose me with stress and depression,
Pessimistic mental state,,, illicit drug usage as they declare..
They enquire, why do I write sadism. Death and fear...
Cry and gloom, Hell and fire, Darfur and Kashmir
Why not life and love, gardens and flowers,
Mysticism and nature...
Tell them, why should I?
I have witnessed the encounter of a cripple,,,
that of a boy of eight...Thousands of such
are at the back of my mind...Snivel of that old woman
Awaiting the return of her son
has given me insomnia and sleep apnea...
Verily, I am A Boy of Conflict
And, this is my state of affairs.
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I am a Geneticist from Kashmir, the Paradise on Earth. Writing is a part of my soul's interaction with the world around. I write because it makes me feel good, it is kind of a food to my soul. My write-ups are influenced by the Human Rights Violations in Kashmir at the behest of Indian Forces. I am inclined to some day give up the rest of chores to take up writing full time.
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