Dear Father, Whenever I have recollected about you, my heart has burst into an impending longing, my eyes deluged in clueless tears and my face sank in familiar grief. Never ever has your persona visited my memory with joy, maybe this inevitable tragedy befalls every mortal; memories cannot be separated from nostalgiaโa reluctant feeling to…
A season of death, a season of loss; our buds rest into coffins, our blossoms have the scent of scars. With a call for Namaz, there’s a greater call to visit graveyards. Decades of violence; an abode of learners, a valley blooming with the hues of knowledgeโ now cradles in the darkness of ignorance. From…