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Deadlock

Mother! Tell me what is behind those doors
Late father averred there is a treasure
A microcosm of whole world’s splendour
An extravagent elegence of nature’s allure
But warned me not to open the doors
Unless and untill I am doubly sure

Mother wept and said, “It is a deadlock
By blunders of your forefathers; did choke”

Mother tell me what is behind those doors
I hear deadly thunders, shrieks and shouts
And plangent whimpers of unseen spirits
I smell something noisome and nausiating
As if coming from a mass burning of pyres
Whenever I look at those queer doors
My heart hammers with unknown terror
Why mother? Why? Tell me! Why?
What is behind those doors?

She sobbed and sobbed with wild shiver
And said, “It is our own Kashmir! ! ! ”

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