The village of Wathoora, nestled in the Kashmir Valley, blends into a dense oak forest. You approach the village on a bumpy dirt track that leads away from the potholed main road. Wathoora emerges gradually: a pile of bricks, a wrinkled old man dressed in a white phiran. At the town’s center, a warren of stone, brick, and sheet metal is home to three hundred families. On the warm Sunday I arrived, the village was relaxed. Women were...
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