Srinagar, May 31 -- I love Kashmir the way you love your childhood home. It's beautiful and familiar and messy, all at once.

I grew up here, in a village where the walnut trees know your name and the neighbours still knock on your door without calling first. People often call it Paradise on Earth, and I get why. The mountains, the lakes, and the scent of kehwa on a cold morning are all real.

But paradise isn't perfect.

Over the years, I've started noticing little things that don't sit right. Habits. Behaviors. Things we've normalized. Sometimes I wonder: why don't we talk about them? Why do we keep pretending they're not hurting anyone?

Let me start with something close to home: parents.

Kashmiri parents love deeply. They sacrifice a...