• arafat 10w


    For our Kashmir
    For what has already been demolished.
    Here desolation and their gun barrels,
    They subdued us like the walnuts
    Underneath there occupation.

    So their media always speaks in their privilege
    Their army men rap the women in this land
    And thoso flashes never come on the TV screens.
    Our letter's unresolved from yonks,
    Here the post offices have been put on fire.
    Their chain of suppression,
    Their Jeeps run on our bodies,
    Our voices and their guns take our loved one's.

    Our youth always encountering their trails,
    A son has not returned home from few days,
    Our search lights of hope, his dead body found in the drain,
    And the home is welcomed with his blood.
    Now who will cure the Mothers ache?
    Who shall fill the viod of expectations in father's old age.

    She is widowed, she has a child in her womb,
    Her child's father brutally killed on the road.
    They tie them with there jeeps,
    And haul their bodies on the roads.
    Is this what they call democracy?

    She cover's her veil from the devil men,
    As their expectations search for her body.
    And they make the fun of "Hijaab" on their debates.
    The soil of kashmir tastes the blood of youth,
    The homes which lost three sons felt isolated
    Like the plain sheet of paper.

    We stand like chinar trees,
    You can take all of us
    But you cannot reach our roots.
    This is Kashmir
    The most militarized zone on this planet.