Because faith has wings.

Striking.
Calm.
Peaceful.
The call from the minaret.

Our eyes meet.
We smile.
Its never condescending.

Many a strangers.
Today, I know all of them.

For they all smile back.

I see him praying.

Alone. Solitary.

He is in black.

His face, has lines.
His face, tells me stories.

They say he is mad.
I think he plays on a different note.

There are devotees.
Some complain.
Some seek blessings.
Some, like me, just stay.
Immerse in the divinity.
Perhaps, they too soak in it.
Soak in the serenity.
Yes, there's plenty.

Nomads, I see in abundance.

Here, they find solace.

Here, nobody shuns them.

I stand by the window.

There is music.
A lot of it.
The music of a city calling back at me.

The music a city aches to play.
One not marred by fear.
One that is not full of gore.

The sky is a sharp blue.

The women look more charming.
The men a little more august.

The children have but grown in innocence.

The surroundings are a beautiful blur.

A translucent, peaceful blur.

I see pigeons.
I see flights.

Of freedom, of liberty.

For once, no one is tied down.
For once, they all breathe the same air.

@Jamia Masjid, Srinagar.