Poem by- Ruma Parvinara
It has been read since ancient times.
The valley is not just a river valley, but a Kashmir valley.
The swallowed valley formed as a result of convergence and expansion.
There is also the Dun Valley between Shivalik and the Himachal Himalayas.
Gives geographical information of which hair-splitting analysed.
Page after page which has been replaced.
This survey did not wipe out even a small amount.
Yet in it –
That geographical page in an instant,
One more valley will be filled.
Who kept his accounted finalisation.
Who knew the name of the valley would be today?
“” Death Valley “”.
In crematoriums, cemeteries, on the streets.
The burning of the furnace does not go out.
It does not cease to lie down under the ground forever,
Cremation Chamber from the Chamber of the hospital.
The empty field of the graveyard cannot be left out.
Everything is like an unknown panic –
Slap is just burning and wailing.
Relatives are not crying and no one is comforting.
No one else is satisfied.
This is the mahalila of God!
The only consolation is going on in everyone’s house.
God-God-God is the sharpest outburst of all.
Only the world drinks the earth.
From where he wants to absorb all religions, sectarianism, violence mixed with gore.
He wants to give back to the advanced creatures as human beings.
Secularism, non-violence, humanitarian message.
So the question arises !!
Will it just be wailing?
Will you just build a valley of death?
I don’t know when it will calm down.
Being made so just “Death Valley” !!