Mourning has become a way of life. People meet more at the small graveyard than in any other social occassion. The festival of eid has lost its charm; the laughter of children is missing; even the merriment of a marriage party is dominated by the memory of young men and women, who have lost their lives over the years.

Whether you wander around in distant hamlets or in the more privileged localities of Srinagar city, it is the same dismal story. Kashmir’s daily toll is 20, and the victims are as almost always, the common person–the Kashmiri who is tired of war and has forgotten peace. Bullets come from either side of the warring factions. But when death comes, it is final and the identity of the bullet blurs in the sorrow of the bereaved.