Srinagar, Sept. 2 -- By Kabra Altaf

We were parked outside a tailor's shop in Shere-Khas, Nowhatta, near Jamia Masjid, when the Maghrib azaan began.

This is the neighbourhood of our nanihal, the lanes where we prayed on Shab-e-Qadr as children, the streets that hold a version of home neither of us has lived in for years but both of us still claim.

My sister sat in front of me on the scooty. The call to prayer rose over the rooftops the way it always does there, and something in it undid me.

I told her the sound made me miss home, even standing a few streets from it. She said the same thing happened to her.

I asked her a question I had not planned to ask: Would she still feel this way once she was married, hearing Maghrib in a house t...