Srinagar, April 26 -- They came to us clothed in the innocence of peace,
bearing trust cupped gently in their trembling hands;
but the answer that met them was death-
not from us,
but from the shadow that haunts our valley,
the hand that cannot bear our happiness.
I cried, but my cries vanished into the mountains;
the river, swollen with sorrow, carried my pain away.
We have lived through storms for decades ,
but today the darkness swallowed even memory,
and grief moved into every home.
My homeland is broken;
not by time or weather,
but by hands that have forgotten every meaning of mercy.
Now the merciless bullets speak where saints once prayed,
and violence has drowned our inherent language of compassion.
Terror has no fait...