A fellow blogger has written a heartrending story of his leaving the Kashmir valley in his childhood. Please read it and be touched the same way as I was.
http://jhustju.blogspot.com/2008/05/cry-of-valley.html
"A cold winter night has fallen outside and the power cut makes it all the more gloomy inside. Huddled together in the warmth of blankets and a kerosene lamp we just sit silently watching each others expressions. I am too young a kid to understand the full implications of what is happening and my younger sister is busy watching a small bug circling the candle our mother had lit in the gallery just outside the kitchen. My thoughts drift from game of cricket I'd played earlier that day to how bright the snow makes outside look. Among all these childish thoughts is a nagging feeling that I'm just not able to get rid of. I feel I'm never going to be in this house again. Never ever in my life will I play cricket with these friends again. Never ever will mother and father have the careless laughs that I so love. Never ever will the things be same again....."
Chapter 4: Saved
12 years ago
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