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Agony Inside – A Story From Kashmir

It was a blissful morning. The frosty air was blowing, unleashing the magical music of vibrating leaves. The hem of the Sun was accruing from the mountains painting the atmosphere with gold. Seeing this tranquil atmosphere my soul was craving for a...

I Was Four Month’s Pregnant When They Killed Him

Colourful Colourless Mornings What is the colour of mornings? All hues in a passing. Red like his blood-drenched clothes. Pale like his lifeless face. Black like the smoke of people gathering around. Wailing. Shouting. Raging. Green like the flag raised on his adeau. Oh, it burns...

I Was Killed Soon After My Marriage In Kashmir

I tasted the salty tears on her lips when she kissed me the last time. We were neighbours. Born in the same year. Played together in the same park. Went to the same school. Same college. Same university. Soon after completing our university, we got married....

A Jar Full Of Home

A post shared by Kayehaan (@kayehaan) on Jul 5, 2017 at 12:45am PDT The weather in this part of the world was brutal, just like most other places which weren’t Kashmir. And if you were from the mountains and had been living...

The Identity Card

Recently I slipped out of my owners pocket (pocket near the heart). I slipped unnoticed. He didn’t know I had jumped out of my cage only to peep what is going on? A lot of noise of carpet beatings in the air, silence in...

A Mouthful Of Silence

I am ritually impure. Before Fajr breaks in I should ablute. It's Friday, that makes it doubly rewarding. Or punishing? I don't know. I've spent this night reading a pick from my priced collection of books on literature and Kashmir. Somebody is already up downstairs....

Diary Of A Pellet Victim Who Lost Her Vision

Cricket’s making their usual sounds, squirrels finding ways to escape, the sun below the line of shining. It is again so beautiful to remind humans that they are the blessed one. Supermans, as everybody stares at the hole without blinking. The six gaps from...

“How I Was Chased And Then Killed With Pellets” – Story of Nasir Shafi

Watch Video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UgNGG_PwxRU My name is Nasir Shafi; my mother calls me Moomin; I am 11 years old. One evening, I was leaving our local masjid towards my home when I saw hundreds of men in uniform charging towards us; there was utter chaos. I...

The Wedding Dress

In the wee hours of the morning, the bride to be sat near the foot of her bed, facing the west, the direction of Qiblah. It had been a long night. Her father had returned from the hospital just an hour before Fajr prayers....

The Confidant

It was the first night of Chilaikalan, she ventured out all by herself. In the stillness, a calm descended on her and she realized that this was her moment. It was at this unearthly hour, she could be her best. Treading across the...

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India Does Not Want The Happenings In Kashmir To Be Known Internationally: French Journalist

On Tuesday evening, the court ordered the release of the French journalist Paul Comiti. The award-winning photographer and documentary filmmaker was detained by the...

Bringing Lalchowk On Your Fingertips

In a world where everything is connected to the internet from your smartphone to your refrigerator, e-commerce has come as a boon, right from...

“Dear Zaira,” An Open Letter To Zaira Wasim

Dear Zaira Zaira, my heart goes out to you. Reasons, many. If I could, I would wrap my arms around you and hold you close...

Photo Essay: The Floating Vegetable Market In Dal Lake

One fine cold winter morning, waking up at 6 AM the morning, I planned to visit the famous Floating Vegetable market in Dal Lake...
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