How does one write about…

Beauty and its many lovers,
like an infatuation.
Like a shrine, its devotees.
Like an ancestral home that belongs
to many, yet none.

How does one write about…

Snow, melting our senses
as we gaze at her humility,
her presence as ephemeral
as laughter.
Her impeccably white robe
spreading like silk as she flows
into still rivers and murmuring brooks
and walks away
like a traveller, into oblivion.

How does one write about…

Rivers flowing modestly and blending
into new territories, new homes,
like a newlywed bride.
Musical brooks writing a poem
on every stone,
at every bend.

How does one write about…

Houses that stare heavenward
like unanswered prayers.
Like beautiful irises
growing tall on past.
Like an old book on a bookshelf
the pages brittle at touch, yet
its ink still fresh,
its words caged, like freedom.

How does one write about…

People, so beautiful,
people who’ve reared their land
with love, across epochs.
Whose faces have the warmth of a mother,
the naivety of a child,
the heroism of a soldier,
the ability to love, like God.

How does one write about a survivor?

How does one write about Kashmir?