How harsh is the night of winter in the vale!
For a kid whose kismet has already denied him the warmth of a father’s lap
Hugging tight his kangri,his fingers slip down the arms.They kiss the kondul while he screams in a bare dark and dipped stillness.He floats into the almighty corner of his room and grumbles disrupting lips-
“Where is my father?”
A tempest is amassing into his eyes and he wants to shed oceans of tears.He lids his eyelids and dreams a picture-perfect dream of his father,his mother and him together.
They are an ordinary family caught in the world of monsters.The monsters want something from them.They want his father’s soul.And finally succumbing,his father offers them his blazing soul.The monsters of “collective hate” eat up the defenseless soul.
The snowflakes are there to cover their screams and there is no one in the full silence.His mother drowns into the lakes of sorrows.She sails into the past of her husband.
He must have been a cool soul!
O Afzal! My Afzal! The snowflakes are there to cover their screams.
Meanwhile,“The Victorious” wakes up.He wishes for spring which is very far behind.So far behind.He wishes for a summer of amity.He wishes for flaming autumn.