The haunting experience of returning to ones homeland from where you were once cast away.
The French hold liberal views about most things in life including religion, are secular and love to discuss Sartre and Camus. This time when I spoke to them, it was different. The mood, the tone was not what I had experienced in a long time
Tilak was banned, janeu was forbidden, Hindu clothes could no longer be worn, temples could not be built or renovated...and of course a foreign tongue and script rode roughshod over Kashmiri and Sharada, despite such desperate attempts at usurping a beauteous land from its original inhabitants, it did not perish.
The night was endless, and the ground shaky, the waters seemed to invite her to jump in and not resurface ever, yet dawn broke with its promise for brightness, shining its orbs on the cragged edges of the Zabarwan, and as she looked towards Mahadev’s peak, she prayed for his assistance.