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Snow; Come to me faster
Hadn’t seen you in a long time, eighteen long years had passed Now I feel your magic touch on my palm While dancing flakes plop on the ground Some of your flakes suspend in the breeze |
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*Bilhan Kaul is a freelance writer and hasbeen a regular contributer in various magazines and newspapers. The writer has written extensively on forced conversion and believes it to be the root cause of the conflict in Kashmir. A Central Government Employee presently lives in Janipur, Jammu (India). |
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