خاک میں کیا صورتیں ہوں گی کہ پنہاں ہو گئیں (In the soil- what faces must be hidden) Beauty finds its way at odd places; away from the flamboyant commotion of Boulevard, far from the amorous colours of Zabarwan and distant from the prospects, perspectives and spectre of present. Beauty finds its way at odd places: along the sombre shores of the lifelessness, in the weed, litter and rubbish of a graveyard, the withered tombstones of a cemetery, The Cemetery of the Poets The cemetery and those who lie buried in the soil of time and fate are the witness to the the lost romance, their epitaphs bear a testimony to a history of prose and poetry. Laala tooram, na humchoon ghuncha gulboo zadaem Shaula jae bakhya bar chaak-e-gereban meezenam (I am the Tulip of Sinai and not the bud borne of a rose To my torn collar, I apply the needle of my fire to stitch it) Cries out poet Mazhari, having penned down 6000 Persian verses throughout his travels from Iran, Khorasan, Hindustan to Kashmir, but now lost in graves and indifference of another necropolis, Malkhah.
Founded in year 1587 C.E during by the Mughal emperor Akbar, the cemetery of poets, also called Mazar-e-Shoara is situated along the banks of Dal Lake. The burial ground for the once eminent poets seems to have been selected carefully to give the dead souls a serene eternal sleep.
The historical records show that there were five poets and men of letters buried in the cemetery, all of them the eminen.