*Parenting in Kashmir is often inherited, not learned. And the cost is silently carried by our children.* I was seven when I first learned that silence can sting more than words. I’d accidently dropped a glass of water, and the room stiffened. My mother looked away. My father didn’t speak. I still shudder to recall that cold moment making my small body fold in shame. I spent years thinking I was careless. I grew up watching every step, careful not to take up too much space. That carefulness stayed. Now, when I watch five-year-old Zaid, I see that same confusion flicker across his face. He’s the kind of child who runs before he thinks, climbs everything he’s told not to, and laughs from his stomach. He’s joy in motion. But also, according to most grown-ups around him, Kherifeh—mischievous. Read Full Story Here: https://kashmirobserver.net/2025/06/20/the-cost-of-tough-love-in-kashmiri-homes/