This Poem Hits the Emotions of Kashmir where it wants to!
The poem has been written from the perspective of Kashmir, who stands still, irrespective of the recent political troubles instigated in the valley. While political boundaries have changed in the past, and may change in the future, the geography remains the same. While the recent political discourse has largely broken the dialogue between two entities – the Kashmiri Hindu and the Kashmiri Muslim, the cries of Kashmir’s soul remain unheard. The poem has been written originally in Koshur, the folk language of Kashmir by Sumeet Mattoo (Srinagar), and translated into English by Sarang Sharma (Chamba).
KASHMIR
What was my name, What was my purpose What were my dreams, What lit my vault It was I, who made these ––– the Hindu, the Musalman I was their mother, and that was my fault Paradise, they called me, they played in my lap they lived here, they protected me, in sun and shade My identity they were When the fire sparked, when the rain broke When the snow did melt, when the sky did fall I was plundered, dismantled, ravaged It was me who never discriminated Who was the Rishi, or who was the Pir
