Jammu, May 11 -- A leader weeps. Mehbooba Mufti's Tears spill not from weakness, but from a place deeper than words can reach. They slice through bone and memory, exposing a wound that this land has carried for generations. It is not just her grief. It is the collective grief of a people made to walk barefoot across the shards of broken promises. It is the ache of a homeland drained dry, not by time, but by betrayal dressed in diplomacy, decade after decade.

Pakistan's violence is not spontaneous. It is institutionalised, engineered, calibrated, and served cold under the guise of strategy, wrapped in the cloth of struggle, sanctified by false prophets of liberation. But that cloth is soaked in the blood of civilians. The empire it feeds ...