An open letter to journalists, From a dying field in Kashmir
By a young farmer, B.Sc Agriculture
I studied agriculture not to leave my village but to stay and serve it, not to dream of a job in the city but to protect what my father and grandfather built with their hands. I wanted to bring knowledge home, to improve our land, to strengthen our roots. But knowledge alone cannot irrigate a dying field. And now, even with my degree, I have failed to save what mattered most.
We are dying here. And no, this is not metaphor. We are watching our fields dry, our orchards rot, our backs break, and yet your cameras do not turn, your pens do not move. You find drama elsewhere, but ignore the slow death in the soil. I have watched our family go from sixty kanal to ten. The rest was sold to a brick kiln. My father cried as he signed the papers, and I, des...









