Last Night, I dreamt I was back home, In Kashmir. I have’nt been able to sleep since. With each passing day, each passing hour, Kashmir seems to be fading into a distant memory. Its reality of death and despair, is slowly being replaced By calendar photographs of sunsets over Dal lake. The march of army boots is being replaced by the pitter patter of rain on the roof my house, my home, My Kashmir Something deep inside me is changing, a part of me is dying, you know like that old withering flower on the windowsill which you forgot to water. There is strange stench in my memories, tonight Like someone died and I forgot to bury him. There is blood on my hands, Did I Murder someone in my dream tonight, Or did I simply commit suicide, Last night Something burns in my heart tonight, But It’s not fire, Just smoldering remains of my dream, Of my Kashmir. All that remains are ashes and questions, Dead men and women ask me, When you cry in your dreams, Do tears escape your eyes ? Hollowed out ...