In Kashmir’s embrace, where serenity sighs,
The argent heavens weep from wintery skies.
A crystalline ballet descends from the ether,
Each flake, a diaphanous whisper of zephyr.

The vale, ensconced in alabaster sheets,
With whispered silence, the snowfall greets.
Chinar boughs bow, their auburn crowns now veiled,
Under nature’s artistry, gloriously regaled.

Rivulets slumber ‘neath glacial tombs,
Dreaming of spring’s floral perfumes.
The frosted meadows, a pristine expanse,
Invite the soul to a trance-like dance.

Majestic peaks don their cerulean shrouds,
Kissed by the heavens, embraced by the clouds.
Their grandeur defies the mortal ken,
A panorama to humble the quills of men.

Children, like cherubs, weave mirth in the frost,
Their laughter an ode to innocence, never lost.
While elders narrate in fireside repose,
Tales of yore as the ember glows.

Oh, Kashmir, your snowfall transcends mere sight,
A symphony of stillness, of tranquil delight.
In your icy mirage, life’s chaos subsides,
An opulent cocoon where serenity resides.

In twilight’s caress, the snow softly gleams,
A silken frost stitching the land with dreams.
The Dal Lake mirrors the celestial quilt,
Its placid surface with ivory gilt.

Shikaras slumber in their icy berths,
As though paused mid-journey by winter’s mirth.
Each oar froze, a sculpture in time,
A relic of motion turned sublime.

Chinar shadows stretch in silent grace,
Etched on white canvases, time cannot efface.
The trees whisper secrets to the frost-bitten air,
As if recounting a saga both sombre and rare.

Crystal chandeliers dangle from eaves,
Nature's adornments spun with ease.
The winds compose an aria so low,
A hymn to the rapture of Kashmir’s snow.

Villages nestle in frosty embrace,
Their hearths aglow, their hearts in solace.
Smoke spirals ascend, a celestial plea,
To warm the heavens’ icy decree.

Caravans traverse on perilous trails,
Their echoes lost in the snowy gales.
Yet within their courage, a warmth ignites,
Defying the storm, braving the nights.

The saffron fields lie in wintry rest,
Blanketed under snow’s solemn crest.
But beneath the frost, a promise sleeps,
Of blooms anew when springtime leaps.

The celestial moon alights on this stage,
Illuminating Kashmir, nature’s sage.
Her argent beams caress the snow,
A love letter penned in lunar prose.

In these silences, eternity dwells,
As time refrains from tolling its bells.
The moment expands, vast and unbound,
Where peace and stillness eternally abound.

Beneath the snow, Gulmarg’s meadows lie,
A wintry paradise that beguiles the eye.
Where skiers carve through the crystalline plains,
Their laughter mingling with winter’s refrains.

Pahalgam slumbers in a tranquil spell,
Its pine-clad slopes where stories dwell.
The Lidder flows, though stilled in part,
Its frozen whispers a balm to the heart.

The Mughal Gardens, a tale of yore,
Under snow, they bloom forevermore.
Shalimar and Nishat, in frost’s embrace,
Wear a diadem of celestial grace.

Betwixt the Chinars, the Sufi hymns float,
Echoes of saints, in snowfall wrote.
Shrines of mystics, steadfast they stand,
Anchoring faith in this hallowed land.

The Char Chinar on Dal’s icy sheen,
Emerges as a regal, spectral scene.
Its sentinels guard this wintry expanse,
A tableau of beauty, a cosmic dance.

Verinag’s spring, a source profound,
Now a frozen jewel in snowbanks bound.
From its depths, the Jhelum’s journey starts,
Flowing through time, uniting hearts.

Sonmarg’s glaciers, gilded and grand,
Stretch like whispers from a timeless hand.
Picnickers gather, their spirits alight,
In snowbound revelry, hearts ignite.

Wazwan aromas, rich and divine,
Evoke heritage as Kashmir's dine.
Kahwa steams in the frosty air,
A golden warmth to the cold laid bare.

The wooden karkhanas hum with craft,
Pashmina weaves their silken draft.
Heritage endures in each woven thread,
A legacy born where winters tread.

Kashmir, the crown of a snowy domain,
A symphony of beauty, joy, and pain.
In your snow-cloaked splendor, we find our part,
A timeless bond with your soul and heart.

Amidst the frost, where the Chinars sigh,
A warmth brews deep, the heart's reply.
In Kashmiri kitchens, a tradition takes flight,
A bowl of harissa on a wintery night.

Slow-cooked to perfection, a savory embrace,
Meat and spices in a harmonious space.
Aromatic whispers fill the air,
A taste of heritage, beyond compare.

Served with lavasa, soft and warm,
It shields the soul from winter's storm.
Each bite a hymn, each flavor a prayer,
Binding hearts in the coldest lair.

And then, the nun chai, pink and divine,
A salted elixir, a lifeline.
Brewed with care, its essence unfolds,
A steaming comfort in porcelain molds.

The samovar hums its ancient tune,
A dance of tea leaves beneath the moon.
Rose-hued nectar in cups poured slow,
A symphony of warmth in the winter's glow.

Families gather, their spirits alight,
Around harissa and nun chai’s delight.
Stories are shared, laughter unfurls,
Binding generations in frosty swirls.

Oh, Kashmir, in your snowy domain,
These humble treasures forever remain.
A taste of love, a sip of peace,
In your snowy lap, joys never cease.

Beneath the phiran, where whispers rest,
The kangri cradles a fiery chest.
Its embedded heat, a tender glow,
Defying frost, where cold winds blow.

A rustic charm, both old and new,
A heritage steeped in morning dew.
In snowy silence, their warmth aligns,
Phiran and kangri, Kashmir’s designs.

Oh, Kashmir, thy splendor none can define,
A paradise sculpted by hands divine.
In snowy folds, heaven’s whispers persist,

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