Sunday Poem By Ruchira Mukherjee
Kashmir: through an eye that once trusted system.
I still sense all the tortures.
Your unheard voice and it’s cry for justice.
Noise around and a blurred province
A generation with no vision.
Yes the disputed land ,
Our very own Kashmir.
Attacks on Hindu pandit;
The hub of culture;
Fight for one’s own land:
So much injustice in just one sentence.
Exodus of 1989: conspiracy of massive genocide.
Brutality towards a race;
Terror in the sound of ralib, ghalib ,chalib by attackers:
Which means convert,die or leave.
Deleting facts,primary sources.
Cries of innocent keeps getting burried deep.
Year 2019 ,civillian once again paid price for survival.
Justice as a constant doesn’t forget its type: a directionless expression.
Propagandas on Islamophobia;
Thirty years of injustice ,murders melt down to scrapping of article 370 ;
A land losing its right;
Kashmir no more a special province ;
No one wanted to know what this pure beauty once wanted!
A beauty robbed of its freedom is justice in today’s India.
A collection of voice; where Kashmir’s voice get’s a graveyard.