I am a child of the conflict. A youth of a revolution. Born in a curfew, in a snowstorm. Heard bullets for Mozart and ran for my life not medals. Played hide and seek in the ruins of homes. Played cricket in a graveyard, with a tombstone as the wicket. Tried to play football but got caught in barbed wire.
Felt my rage at relative’s death, and my heart broke when he was buried. Heard a mother singing a lullaby to her dead son. Felt tears running short of the supply.
Felt hope, seeing a boy going to school after getting maimed. Saw the dawn of freedom, when the poets weaved the future. Learnt history at the dastarkhwaan and Wani Pyanj.
For Justice and For Peace. Love from the Forgotten Land.
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