The Fading Melody of Kashmiri Autumn

Autumn in Kashmir feels like a painting that moves. The air turns cool, the light softens, and the chinar leaves glow like gold. The scent of burning wood mixes with the wind. It is a season that touches the heart and slows time.

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Years ago, autumn evenings in Kashmir carried another kind of beauty. In my village, Ahlan Gadole, about forty kilometres from Anantnag, the end of the harvest marked the beginning of evening gatherings. When the fields turned bare and the sky blushed orange, groups of young girls would come together in open courtyards to sing. The songs spoke of love, waiting, faith, and the passing of time. Their voices floated through the village, light and full of feeling.