There once were daffodil worshippers,
In the bosom of our ancient city.
Far from the lakes of Kashmir,
Now lost in deserts and plains.
Oblivious, away from their motherland,
Their pristine, beautiful lakes.
Old ghosts haunt their memories,
Frightening them from returning.
To worship daffodils and water lilies,
In the serene lakes of their past.
Waiting with wide arms to hug
My Pandit brothers, my cousins۔
Natives cut off From fellow natives
Cause fear, terror, and media.
MyKoul
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