Dear India & Pakistan, Stop War

By Dr. Bilal Ahmad Bhat, for Three Circle

Dear India, Dear Pakistan,
In the quiet dawn we wake to the sound of silence broken,
Not by song or laughter, but by distant thunder,
A heavy hush broken by bombs in the fields we once shared,
Where families once sat under mango trees,
Now shadows fall on shattered earth.

Across borders carved in the blood of history,
Children clutch pictures of fathers who never came home,
Mothers sew ragged flags of hope from the tatters of their heart.
Our villages cradle the memories of generations, now ghostly and broken.
We are all sons and daughters of the same sun,
Why must our skies be poisoned with smoke and our rivers with tears?

In the heart of every valley, the wind whispers sorrow,
It tells of farmers who look for autumn rains in empty clouds,
Of young soldiers who lay down guns for mothers who will never meet them again.
Hatred is a seed that darkens the soul of fields once green,
A storm that tears through the soul of every child who dreams
Of stepping stones, not minefields in their path.

Streets that once rang with the cries of children at play
Now mourn in silence under the weight of violence.
Houses stand empty, abandoned by fear and the march of time,
Each room a canvas of loss, echoing lullabies never sung.
In every tear that falls in Lahore and Lucknow,
In every whisper of fear beneath the minarets alike,
We feel the same ache.

The guns grow cold, but the scars remain,
Canyons of grief carved deep into our hills.
Borders are lines where hearts are cut,
And each heartbeat pleads for mercy beyond walls.
Hatred gathers no victory – only silences the songbirds,
Only turns tomorrow’s light into flames of yesterday’s shadows.

Our histories run like rivers with the same names,
Flowing from the peaks of love and belonging.
We bleed the same warm color beneath different flags,
Yet we hold the power to change the course of this river’s flow.
We whisper to the dawn, to the creeping light after darkness,
Let there be a chance where swords are laid to rest,
Let us rise from this mire of destruction and cry for peace.

O India, O Pakistan, the mothers of both nations weep as one,
Their tears sow gardens of memory in the fertile ground of both lands.
We have danced in rain together and shared the sweet taste of mangoes,
Why not share laughter in a future without fear?
Stop this savage waltz that tramples the heart,
And listen to the silent cry of your children’s plea:
“Let peace be our legacy, not ashes and pain.”

No more mourning at dawn’s light,
No more answering gunfire at dusk.
Let compassion break through this fortress of anger,
And let the rivers unite in gentle song rather than war’s bitter tune.
Lift the veil of hatred, dissolve the lines drawn in sand,
For though kingdoms rise and fall, humanity must stand.

We sow seeds of tomorrow in prayer and promise,
Build bridges from love, one stone at a time,
United not by generals, but by the laughter of streets,
And harvest the dawn where conflict once reigned.
Dear India & Pakistan, behind the flags and beyond politics,
Know that each life spared is a victory for all of us.
Open the doors of your hearts, let hope walk in,
Set our children free to thrive, not to fight.

From the trembling lips of a refugee girl with no home,
From the silent dreams of a soldier too young to die,
A plea escapes like a dove from its cage:
Dear India and Pakistan, cease this war –
Embrace the light we long for,
And let peace bloom across our borders forevermore.