In the valley flows a river of fog, Lays heavy on lives, destinies, Path ahead is a dream, Like hazy ideas of tomorrow That reflect in hopeful eyes Of little girls and boys, Yet to feel the prick of time's thorns, Yet to learn the vices of past, I hope they never do,
My camera prays for Kashmir, To rise above shadows of politics, For the sake of these innocent faces, For the poetry of flowing pherans, For the music of floating shikaras For all the love yet to be discovered, That I look for through my lens And there it is, a hint on that child's lips A smile in a season of guns