A scene of protests in Valley (KL file Image: Bilal Bahadur)

By: Younis Kaloo

Deep, ingrained in me is the victimisation of conflict

From my blood and my breaths come the wails of conflict

Here, when people tell me “shake off the dust of conflict”

Spontaneously my tongue glides “I can’t unthink conflict”

I have memories and experiences with conflict

My childhood, my boyhood was lived in conflict

My eyes, if anything they saw, was conflict

My ears, if anything they heard, was conflict

My legends, heriocs, and history come from conflict

My stories of destitution come from conflict

My past, my present is conflict

My plains, my mountains, the air is conflict

Their yardstick to measure me is conflict

Their purpose is enshrined in conflict

What do I then do in this conflict?

Get born, grow, and die in conflict

(Younis Kaloo is a Journalism Post Graduate with specialisation in Narrative Journalism from CUK.)

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