Kiratpur: a city hundreds, hundreds and hundreds of miles away from Islamabad. A small, modest city – from what I hear – in the Bijnur district of UP, India, where people gladly drink goat’s milk and eat only khaalis ghee and paneer. Also a city that, every afternoon, my grandfather would visit for one whole hour, sometimes even an hour and a half, before returning to our home in Islamabad to curve his lips into the sweetest smile. The kind you only saw on those who dreamt of yesterdays.
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