Mother’s call


The night’s ghosts came prowling down

All geared in a khaki gown

Wielded upon by a ghost with a frown


Walloped and whacked my door that midnight

O horrible! My heart drubbed in fear

At the ghost’s monstrous eyes


Fear I had, for my family that was.

My only son- the crown of my head,

The moon in my dreams!


The khaki ghost saw its prize

Pushing, pulling and dragging

While I kept trying, begging and beseeching.


Whilst I, a hole in my heart now

Days to months; and months to years

Nothing sufficed the khaki ghost.


Days and nights have lost distinction,

Nothing is true anymore

My whole being only a facade.


As my heart whimpers and my eyes wail

I turn left and I turn Right,

Only your Image is my past.


Here and there, everywhere

I tried to inquest the events of that night

As all Khaki ghosts look alike.


Without a news of him

How will you rest O my bleeding heart


Only the Angels of Death

would cut us apart-

me, your thoughts and this despair


In thy Kingdom O my Lord!

Disgrace not my Faith in thy Lordship

Re-join a mother to her disappeared son.


 – Dedicated to the Mothers of the Disappeared people.

The Kashmir Walla needs you, urgently. Only you can do it.

We have always come to you for help: The Kashmir Walla is battling at multiple fronts — and if you don’t act now, it would be too late. 2020 was a year like no other and we walked into it already battered. The freedom of the press in Kashmir was touching new lows as the entire population was gradually coming out of one of the longest communication blackouts in the world.

We are not a big organization. A few thousand rupees from each one of you would make a huge difference.

The Kashmir Walla plans to extensively and honestly cover — break, report, and analyze — everything that matters to you. You can help us.

Choose a plan as per your location