Wrote this poem a few years ago(2005) in the wake of Kashmir Quake that rocked the Kashmir valley on a gloomy morning, the heaven of India's crown.
It goes like this....
He came early in the morning,
not the sun nor light did it bring,
just the doom for thousand lives,
on the back of death they did cling.
He betrayed the bright destiny,
by giving the pills of long sleep,
to those who hoped to start,
a sunny and lucky day and life.
He knew not the needs of people,
but only the time when it had
to come,
and turn the buildings and
dreams into the slums.
On earth, rested the sky-high towers,
and all the almighty larks,
and this unqualified, un-awaited,
guest did come to
quack us all.
The school, a temple did stand
last night,
to groom young minds whose,
future was bright.
But the sun did not shine,
the death did.
The future's inhabitants were
compressed under concrete structures,
wailing were their parents reading,
the graveyard scriptures.
It knew no bounds whether
POK or LOC but knew its
time to come and go, leaving
behind a pall of dense blurred,
futuristic snow.
