Koshur Lost In Thoughts Poem by Tahir Ibn Manzoor

Dear Son, you're the colorful Umbrella of all seasons,


I am the peasant of my thoughts, I lived, and you were the reason


Down the tubes of my veins I found you making a gateway,


Thought a wind of anguish would swept my life away


Saw the streets painted red; thought blood is just colour for them,

Martyrs of the soil fought hard, occupation of oppressor brought mayhem


Pellets fired, Stones hurled, bullets pierce bodies, probes take place; it's Kashmir


Words; Occupation, Aazadi (freedom) has many injected colours; Martyrs, Bullets, Pellets, PSA, AFSPA, Stones, Hospital, Deaths and Probes paint it red.


[The author is a student of Convergent Journalism at Central University of Kashmir. He tweets at @TahirIbnManzoor, blogs at http: //www.TahirIbnManzoor.Wordpress.Com]