By Aaqyb Ashraf

I saw the real face of Kashmir's healthcare on a morning that began like any other.

My mother needed an ECG before a scheduled procedure, so we went to the Bone and Joint Hospital in Srinagar. We moved through the long corridor with its familiar pale walls, and for a moment, everything felt standard.

Then we stepped into the ECG unit, and the entire scene shifted.

Only a male technician was inside. My mother paused at the doorway. She held the edge of her shawl a little tighter and looked at the machine, then at him. Nothing unusual happened in that moment, but something shifted.

Her hesitation was almost unnoticeable to anyone else. But for her, it was enough to change the feeling of the whole room.

She grew up in a place where privacy during medical tests is tied to dignity. That upbringing shaped the way she stood, the silence she kept, and the discomfort that slowly settled on her face.

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