The month of coldness, the frost descends,
Laziness welcomes as winter extends.
Memories awaken, frozen in time,
Of childhood winters, pure and sublime.

The first snowfall, a childhood scene,
Playing on roads where joy had been.
Cricket in alleys, laughter in air,
The snowflakes falling, a sight so rare.

The fog clogs at night, the streets lie still,
The cold grips tightly, its icy thrill.
Yet amidst the frost, I found a spark,
A memory hidden deep in the dark.

Notifications flood, recaps appear,
Revealing snapshots of the passing year.
Flashes of moments, both joy and ache,
Etched in the snow, like trails we make.

That girl I met, years before,
Her face appears as winters explore.
Forgotten for years, now she returns,
A fire within, as December burns.

Oh December, you carry so much weight,
Of snowy mornings and a destined fate.
You remind me of all that I treasure,
The too-cold month, yet filled with pleasure.

Yet you are passing out, wrapping this year,
We’ll step into the new days, both bright and clear.
Maybe we’ll miss you, but not your coldness—
Only your echoes, your warmth, your boldness

I come from Kashmir
where land is green & white snow bed
and I come from Kashmir
where roads aren’t black but are red.

I come from Kashmir
where Daughter Tajamul brought Gold
and I come from Kashmir
where daughter Nafiya craves for her father’s body and lost his soul.

I come from Kashmir
where journalists get Peter Mackler & Pulitzer awards
and yet I come from Kashmir
where journalists get charged under UAPA as a reward.

I come from Kashmir
where Thekedar gets benefits under the Roshni Act
and I come from Kashmir
where an internet shutdown of 551 days was for every sect.

I come from Kashmir
where Gupta g ranked 1st in the country
and yet I come from Kashmir
where youth have to carry ID’s to prove their identity.

I come from Kashmir
which was known for its cultural dress Pheran
and I come from Kashmir
which now has more business in selling Kaffan.

I come from Kashmir
which Allama called the valley of braves
and I come from Kashmir
which now is the valley of Graves.

I come from Kashmir
which was called Earth’s Heaven
and yet I come from Kashmir
which now is the World’s Biggest Prison.

I come from Kashmir
where Chinars paint the autumn gold
and I come from Kashmir
where every spring, new tombstones unfold.

I come from Kashmir
where Dal Lake mirrors the moon’s glow
and I come from Kashmir
where blood taints the rivers’ flow.

I come from Kashmir
where children dream of books and play
and I come from Kashmir
where childhoods vanish in smoke and clay.

I come from Kashmir
where lovers once whispered in gardens wide
and yet I come from Kashmir
where silence now walks side by side.

I come from Kashmir
where poets wrote of love and fate
and yet I come from Kashmir
where verses now carry only weight.

I come from Kashmir
which history books fail to define
and I come from Kashmir
which lives between the headlines’ lines.