I want to be able to say on my deathbed that I reached a few people. That would be very nice, just to be able to say that.
The haze had covered the northern edge of Tchahl village. A little away from a cricket ground, three men in their 60s, sat on a nearby rock patiently looking at Atta Mohammad Khan, the gravedigger. A few policemen were watching him dig a grave for a slain ‘unidentified militant’.All of a sudden, Atta shouted at the three men to help him bury the dead man. One of them, Ghulam Mohiudin Dar refused saying he would get nightmares if he looked at the body.
The following day the police summoned Dar, a resident of Sheeri village. He rushed from his field with his feet still covered with mud and reached the Sheeri police station. The SHO showed him the photograph of a dead boy asking Dar to identify him. The moment he looked at the photograph, he fell on his knees crying like a child. The boy Atta Mohammad…
View original post 1,164 more words