We walk down that path each day - my six-year-old daughter and I - on her way to school. We must have passed within feet of the dead body. They cordoned off the path and we came home from school another way.
Every time the shelling began we had to take all the patients to the ground floor, lining their beds up along a dark corridor. On top of this, the wounded kept arriving in ambulances. Nearly all were young men under 30.
The train was stopped by angry villagers who came looking for Sikh passengers. I confronted the mob and tried to reason with them. They got angry and assaulted me.