When my father Balraj Sahni showed the ills of capitalism to me in Kashmir
I remember the days I spent with Dad in Gulmarg with a nostalgic ache, in particular the long walks and climb to Khilan. The serenity of the hills, the mesmerizing vistas, the heavenly meadows and the meandering streams, they all gave us an overwhelming sense of peace and harmony, with each other and with nature. It was truly a deeply spiritual experience, which I have never been able to replicate anywhere or with anyone other than Dad.
Being an avid photographer, Dad carried his camera with him wherever he went and photographed any and everything that caught his eye—the deep coniferous forests, the wild flowers growing in the glades, the streams flowing down the mountainsides. And he discussed every topic that came to his mind with me. One day, we came across an unpleasant sight while on our evening walk.
Two pony owners, for some unknown reason, were . . .