Srinagar, July 10 -- The sun was already high that June morning, its heat thick and suffocating. I sat in my old Alto 800, engine off, sweat beading on my skin, clothes sticking to me.
Outside the gate of Badamwari Garden in Srinagar, the air felt almost oppressive, but I was used to it. This was my Sunday ritual: waiting for my children, watching the road, thinking about the old days.
But that morning, something happened. Something small and simple, yet it shook me to my core.
A young couple arrived, gliding into the spot on a scooter. The man was dressed neatly in a shirt and pants, polished shoes, a pair of glasses perched on his nose. His wife sat behind him, holding a baby, no more than two years old.
What caught me wasn't their ...
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