The wailing walls of Sirhind, stand in sombre solitude. The howling chilling winds, the numbing weeping waters of Sarsa, bemoan and grieve. Eternally condemned and permanently blotted, these coffers rocked Thy tender kids to quietus. The supple souls, seasoned spirits, and their ominous farewell, Soil of Sirhind, (fortunate enough that such pious feet walked on it and regrettably unfortunate to have become their deathbed) , witnessed what we dare not dream. Unwavering, unflinching, unswerving and unyielding, subtle yet strong, the fledglings of falcon. embraced their pallbearers with smiles on their faces. And this is their legacy. They were bricked alive. But they never died. And never can they. Welfare unto all Rab rakha
Rhapsody resounds, resonating for eons, what'll be your echo?