When the concertina wire weaves your nightmares,
overshadows your homes, stretches lengths.
Imagine, Line of Control.
They throwing letters wrapped in stones towards their own, across the stream,
they cannot meet.
Imagine, Line of Control.
When a son kneels down and mourns his father's demise,
watches the funeral from far across the fence.
Imagine, Line of Control.
Almost a no-man's land,
where shells fly more frequently than birds,
Imagine, Line of Control.
The contentious blood smeared line,
drawn out of fanatic egos, fulfilling greed.
Imagine, Line of Control.
Endless wait, dried up tears and blurred visions,
women waiting for their sons, brothers and husbands.
Imagine, Line of Control.
Decorated with electrified barbs, watchtowers and locked villages,
where each person is known by a mere number.
Imagine, Line of Control.
We watch each footstep on our own soil, unaware what might come beneath the next one
the soil may explode, ending our story in a whisker.
Imagine, Line of Control.
Where you hold your breath, trying to feel the breeze flowing towards you from across,
emotions touch the chasm.
Imagine, Line of Control.
Envy these birds in flight, they know no confines,
we too wish to fly to see life around.
Imagine, Line of Control.
Image details: This river in the above image, located in Tanghdar area of Indian Administered Kashmir, splits the two sides of Jammu and Kashmir. The bridge links the ghosts.
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