S. Mushtaq for
“He handed me a can of petrol, asking me to set my house on fire as he repeatedly kept saying that militants were hiding inside. I told him I wouldn’t do that and asked him to search the area for any militants. My response angered him and he tied a rope around my neck. For the next couple of hours, I was made to parade around, dragged with the rope, or forced to sit in a way that my limbs were tangled. I was repeatedly slapped and kicked. I told him it was better to kill me. He took out his gun pointing it at my throat, the barrel placed just over my jugular vein, and then remarked that he wouldn’t want to waste a bullet on me”, Haja, 55, told me when I met her last summer at her home in Dooru area of North Kashmir’s Sopore town.
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Bloodied Rivers of Kashmir 