An inspiration that runs through every single word in this anecdotal narration, compels the reader to not only consume it but relish and be thankful to a delicate soul who put this whole saga of human conflict in few words.
On my recent visit to Azad Kashmir, I imagined that the people there lived a peaceful life.
What a feeling would it be to wake up to such scenic visuals every day, a wonderful life it looked.
While on the hike, I saw a man carrying a huge bulk of lumber on his back.
“How can he carry that weight on his back,” I exclaimed rather loudly.
“It is lighter than the weight of my responsibilities,” he remarked with grief.
I was stunned for a moment; men here do not usually talk directly to foreign women. I started a conversation with him. He lived in the Kail village, with his wife and two kids.
The elder one, a girl was in eighth grade and the boy in the third, both of them beautiful Kashmiri kids.
So what was the burden? What worried him?
“My children watch the TV, listen to…
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