I sit down to write this in the brief interlude following a rather devastating piece from the recently released anthology ‘Until My Freedom Has Come’. But the self is reminded, once again, of the fallacy of the word chosen. There is no respite, no running away from the crushing despair that elicits from the story of Kashmir. Despondency would have been the reaction of the self, just a few years ago. Today, that same base emotion has excogitated into a series of pernicious concerns.
The celebrated Indian democracy has failed its citizens. In Kashmir, where the iron fist of