I do shed the tears, but then I'm back to normalcy. You call it inhumane, I call it living ahead for the alive but remembering dead who sleep in my gut, my bosom my limbs, my minds, everywhere.
Mine ( Kashmir) is an unending tale of atrocities, enforce disappearances, false encounters, widows and half widows, orphans, and half orphans, depressed and tired bodies, graveyards wherever you see.
There's every reason to worry for me, for my people. But, the International community always turns the blind eye towards me. May be I don't have oil fields. Or, may be I'm of no political importance to them. They talk humanity, humans suffer here too.
Why this intentional discrimination to me?
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