A Stone...A Gun....

A Kashmiri women throwing a stone on a armed forces personnel...No fear, no idea of consequences and anger. A lot of it.
Why?
When a society is oppressed to an extent where the fear of consequences and death is lost...something wrong is going on in there.
Yes, there is something wrong in Kashmir...A Heaven on Earth...
No!!
Not any more.


A hurled stone, a finger on trigger,
That little kid falls, spot of blood growing bigger.

An anxious mother, till today a citizen, docile,
Harried, she waits, as birds retire back, in a file.

That worried mother, searching streets, asking neighbors,
As another chunk of Sun, bitten up,by night hours.

A body, a new shirt,a little dirty, a whole lot red,
Mother staring,but not looking, unable to decipher,the dead.

Noooo....it dawns on her,for was that her baby?
On her knees now, floodgates cracked, no questions of may be.

But not even allowed to hold him,cover or even cry,
As those uniformed men,attired green,pull her away,pry.

Sobs stifled, as she sits,singing to a photograph,black & white,
Abruptly she runs, out in the dark,near that camp,deadly site.

A hurled stone,a finger on the trigger,
That childless mother falls,spot of blood growing bigger...

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