Friends its not the long long ago of a fairy tale i am talking about,but days when we used to breathe freely in this land..when i heard the birds sing not afraid of flying away with the sound of bullets…i saw the jhelum at peace..Dal with the four chinars and that cool breeze …Ah!i dont know when it was but it would have been …I have heard some stories about those days.?Wish there was peace and prosperity again in this sufi land.Hope is the only answer.
I want to share a poem :
“Hope” is the thing with feathers— And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard— I’ve heard it in the chillest land—
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