India, April 28 -- A letter to Kashmir

Dear Kashmir,

I don't know how to write this without my hands shaking.

You were never just a place I lived in, you were the story itself. Not a fleeting postcard or a passing chapter, but a living, breathing part of my life.

For over a year, I drank your tea, shared your bread, and learnt to hear the music in your silence. You were scent, soul, and snow. You were warmth in a cold too deep for language.

For over a year, you were more than home to me - you were a place where I experienced the greatest joys of life and yes, at times plumbed into some depths of despair too ..

You were a dream I could walk through. You were the 'rabab' I could play on. You were poetry I could touch ..

You taught me...