14 July 2010 Last updated at 19:51 ET

The human suffering inside Kashmir's struggle

By Sanjoy Majumder BBC News, Srinagar

The streets are empty apart from when there are protests

The family of Abrar Khan sits looking at a passport-sized photograph of him that has been placed on the carpet.

"He would have turned 17 this week," says Abrar's brother, Hilal Ahmed Khan, his face expressionless.

He is seated cross-legged on the floor of his tiny home, his parents and sisters sitting alongside.

Abrar died earlier this month - killed, allegedly, by the police during the anti-India protests that have rocked Indian-administered Kashmir for more than a month.

'Troubled' neighbourhoods

"See how our young boys are dying. Abrar was innocent. He was no militant," his sister says, her voice rising.

Abrar's family say he was killed needlessly

As we leave the home in the densely packed neighbourhood of Maisuma, in central Srinagar, several young men surround us and break into impromptu chants.

"What do we want? Freedom. India, go back."

Maisuma is one of several "troubled" Srinagar neighbourhoods, where young protesters have clashed with the police.

It is so volatile, that many call it Kashmir's Gaza.

Several dark patches can be seen on the streets. "That's where the protesters placed burning tyres," one young man says.

Stone-throwers

The protests have placed the security forces under tremendous pressure.

"It's a very difficult law and order situation," admits Prabhakar Tripathi, the spokesman for the Central Reserve Police Force, a federal paramilitary unit that is blamed for most of the recent civilian deaths.

Separatist leaders warn that people are becoming increasingly impatient

"They are not as innocent as you think. Our troops have come under attack despite which they've behaved with restraint. They only open fire when it's a question of saving their lives."

That is something which is strongly disputed by many here.

I meet three of the stone-throwers as they have come to be known, in a darkened hotel room - young boys, barely out of their teens.

Fashionably dressed and wearing dark glasses, they could be rebellious, urban teenagers anywhere.

But this is the new face of Kashmiri separatism.

"Our protests are peaceful. We're not armed. We don't have grenades or guns. So then, why do they attack us?" asks one of them.

"It is the brutality of the security forces that's leading to the killings and forcing us to throw stones."

This new-age protester uses the tools of the digital age. They show me footage of their protests that they have filmed on their mobile phones, which they than upload onto the internet.

"We use Facebook, Twitter and blogs to try and tell the world what's happening and inspire others to join us," one of them says.

"This is a generation that is totally disillusioned with India's approach to Kashmir," says Mirwaiz Umar Farooq, one of the most influential leaders in the Kashmiri separatist movement.

Stillness

For much of the past few days, he's been under house arrest, the government fearing that his presence on the streets could spark more trouble.

Police have been accused of being heavy handed

"They have aspirations and they're aware of what's happening in the world - in Palestine, Iran, Afghanistan.

"Today they are throwing stones. But if this continues, tomorrow they'll take up the gun."

The response of the administration is to bring much of Srinagar and the Muslim-dominated Kashmir valley under curfew.

The stillness is apparent outside the Jamia Masjid, the city's oldest mosque. No one has been to pray here for days.

The streets are empty except for a few stray dogs and policemen, deployed every few metres.

Coils of razor wire block several roads. In the old brick houses beyond them, occasionally a window is opened from the upper storeys and someone looks out before shutting it again.

"It's been like this for days," one old man says, as he shops hurriedly in one of the few markets that has remained open.

"We barely have food in our homes."

But Kashmir is more than just an internal problem for India. It is at the core of its relations with Pakistan.

Kashmir Chief Minister Omar Abdullah reflects on recent protests

"Whatever happens between India and Pakistan has a direct impact on Jammu and Kashmir," says the state's chief minister, Omar Abdullah.

"When relations improve, we see the benefits. After the Mumbai attacks, that was snatched away from us.

"The peace process is in tatters."

Almost everyone here acknowledges that the attacks on India's financial capital in 2008 affected Kashmir deeply.

It dropped off the agenda and also proved to be a big setback to the separatists who were no longer able to find a ready audience for their issue.

So the talks between the foreign ministers of India and Pakistan are being watched keenly here.

Kashmir has dominated relations between the two countries for more than half a century and many here believe it cannot simply be wished away.