Srinagar:
Saleem puts on his uniform at 5:30 am everyday. As he heads out of his small house in uptown area of Srinagar, he sighs under his breath. Every day is a tough day.
On most days, Saleem finds himself trying to control angry crowds who want to set fire to anything - buses, police stations - a mass revolt against the government. Every day seems to push the death toll up with the relentless drive of rage in auto-pilot.
Since June this year, 57 civilians have been killed, and hundreds injured by bullets as security forces try to push back. They are hardly without casualties: 800 policemen have been hurt.
"It is a difficult situation." says Saleem. "Anybody injured on that side of the fence are among our own people. Anybody injured on this side of the fence are also our own."
For men on duty, like Saleem, the physical strain is tough. But it's the emotional challenge that's tougher: how to take on neighbours, friends, family who are enraged by what these men in uniform stand for.
At a police camp in Batmaloo area of the of the city, there is just one topic of discussion today: Ahad Jan, the suspended policeman who threw a shoe at Chief Minister Omar Abdullah on Sunday at a function to mark Independence Day.
Some say Ahad Jan is emotionally disturbed, others say that he was used by a political group that wanted to embarrass the Chief Minister. But many here believe that Ahad was expressing what many policemen feel.
They work almost round-the-clock.
Members of the Central Reserve Police Force, who work alongside, get an additional 25 per cent of their salary as a Hardship Allowance. The Jammu & Kashmir police get nothing of the sort.
Lately, the crowds that fill the streets have taken to setting policemen's houses on fire.
In one man's room at the camp, we find a letter written to his family in a village that's just a few hours by road, but seems to get more distant everyday. He tells us he worries that it will never accept that he, despite his job, belongs there, as much as they do.