Dear Kashmir.
This is a letter I'd write to you begging your pardon.
(Read the caption)-
And somewhere inside the woods or on top of the mountains, in a tent like this, I'd be writing letters for you and waiting you to join me!
(Read caption)-
Wild and untamed, scattered unevenly around walkways, walls and gardens I see them, sometimes bright, sometimes faded. These flowers lighten up a picture giving them colors from its petals and they eventually fade. They fade by giving colors to someone else I believe. And most times it goes unnoticed, unappreciated and unpampered. It still bloom and never stops colouring lives. I see sheer beauty, art and poems crafted in those petals. I could forever fall for it leaving all the beatific roses I'd ever find. It's pure love!
(Read caption)-
Pain
(noun) /peīn/
that highly unpleasant and toxic feeling,
when you know your love is someone else's love.-
A year could change you so much.
Last time, you asked and I came down.
This time, I'm coming and you don't even seem to be bothered.
Time, you're one hell kinda beast.-
I'd been asked many a times, why do you be angry and frustrated only while at home, and have that smiling all okay face when you're out.
Now listen,
Dude, it's my home and this is the only place where I could be all myself, be vulnerable, the worst of me and still be loved.
I'd tried answering it, but they aren't convinced till date.-
De-monetisation? Done overnight.
GST? Implemented all of sudden.
Article 370? Abolished within a blink of the eye.
IPC Section 376?
What? You ain't supposed to talk about that.
Sit, blindfold and deafen yourself, and
Fool yourself that 'Accha din ayega' !-