If rivers could talk, the Indus would not whisper; it would thunder. Not in rage, but sorrow for being mislabeled, mistreated, and now almost killed.

The Persians, unable to pronounce 'Sindhu', called it 'Hindu'. The Greeks turned that into 'Indos'. And the British, true to colonial form, repackaged the theft as 'India'. Thus, a nation claimed its identity from a river it neither owns nor protects. But history's irony doesn't end there, because today, India seeks to strangle the very Sindhu that gave it its name, damming its veins, drying its pulse, and silencing the waters that once defined its soul.

The same India that rushed to choke the river's throat with Baglihar and Kishanganga, damming it upstream without pause. The same India that throttles the very waters that gave it its name, then cries foul before the world. The same India that launched missiles into Muzaffarabad, Kotli and Bahawalpur, not into barracks, but into beds, tearing through silence, catching families mid-dream, mid-breath.

This........

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