Motu climbed the last stone path into Pulwama Shaheed Park. He stopped short. Green mountains rose on every side, and white flowers dot-ted the slopes like snow that never melted.
A breeze drifted through the chinar leaves overhead, carrying the sound of distant water. It whispered through the branches and made the flowers sway gently. The whole valley seemed to breathe.
He wandered deeper into the park, following the sound of running water between ancient trees. Then something caught his eye — a wide stone plaque set among the rocks.
Rows of carved names covered the stone, and beneath them a single line read: 'They gave their tomorrow so we could have today.' Motu ran his fingers along the carved letters. The stone was cool and rough beneath his touch.
An old man stepped beside him — silver hair, a warm smile creasing his cheeks. He carried a thick leather photo album. He opened it gently and showed the young boy the first page.
Inside were photographs — young soldiers standing tall in the snow, faces set and serious. Each one looked like he could be from any village, any family. The old man spoke softly about bravery Motu had never imagined.
Motu studied each photograph carefully, memorizing the faces. He thought about how brave those boys must have been — standing in the snow, not afraid. He wanted to remember them all.
When the old man closed the album, Motu nodded slowly. He knew he would come back again. The names on the stone and the faces in the book — he would not forget them.
Motu walked back down the mountain path slowly, his hands tucked deep in his pockets. He hummed a quiet tune under his breath, one foot after another on the familiar stones.
The sun warmed his shoulders as he passed under the last chinar branches. The air grew heavier, fuller — the scent of earth and pine needles. The park gates would be just ahead.
He stepped outside the park gates and turned to look back. The green hills rose up quietly, the white flowers still scattered like distant stars. He whispered the names to himself again.
Tomorrow he would write a letter to his teacher. He would write about the names on the stone and the faces in the photographs. He would tell her everything the old man showed him.