Touch and you interrupt the frenzied but slow drawing through water on the impermanent surface.

Try to join, drag through, and write an alphabet, but you will not be able to join further as the hysteria of daily terror stays distant, disconnected across the frosted screen.

"Left, Right, make a Dash. Left Left Left Right Right Right
Right Right Left Left. A for Army." says the child's voice.

B for bomb. C for curfew.

D for death. E for explosion. F for fear. G for garden. G for grave. H for hospital. I for Identity Card. J for jail. K for kalashnikov. L for Land of Free Kashmir. M for militant. N for NTR - Nothing To Report. O for obituary. P for Papa 2. Q for questioning. R for rape. S for scar. T for television. U for utopia. V for VDC - Village Defense Committee. W for widow – half widow. X for X-ray. Y for Yes Sir! Z for Z-Security.