By Sana Khan for TwoCircles.net,
Three years ago while working on my M.Phil dissertation on the violence of partition, I had decided to dedicate it to the dead. I wrote:
Who must wake up;
To teach the living
how not to die.
Life is fragile
Today when I am working on my PhD thesis on non-violence, and reading news of turmoil and violence almost everywhere in the world, I wrote:
For death is the only peace
A many may ever know
On this earth.
As I write this, bullets are being fired at unarmed Kashmiris, a bomb is being dropped at Palestine, a coup takes place in Turkey, and Syria remains in turmoil – all the people in these places and others live in perpetual fear of being blown up anytime.
In the name of religion, in the name of defence, in the name of territory, how many more innocent lives would be claimed? A human being’s quest for meaning in life, to discover beauty in life is constantly challenged when one sees this kind of brutal violence thriving on distrust and hatred. The dark side of humanity reveals itself in such gruesome manner. Any place torn by conflict and violence sees another level of human degradation. The real danger lies not in the strength of bad/evil, but in the weakness of good. Every day I read horrific accounts of police brutality on the Kashmiri civilians, I realise life there is marked by blood and tears. I see people going absolutely mad (for lack of a better word) over the Kashmir issue on social media. Aggressive debates. Hate begetting more hate. More stories of hatred and distrust, of violence, of blood, of tears, of death and destruction.
I can never express the pain, anger, agony, fear or hope of the people of Kashmir or anyone who has lived this kind of life – in perpetual fear of getting killed. But this time, things have gone far beyond fear. A rebellion has overtaken the whole of Kashmir. Azaadi Azaadi Azaadi. A certain kind of darkness has gripped Kashmir right now. The paradise on earth, as called by Jahangir, is in turmoil after Burhan Wani’s death, more than forty people have lost their lives, and thousands have been injured including children. Curfew is in effect in most places, women again become the worst sufferers with attempts of rapes being made.
I am ashamed to be a part of ‘world’s largest democracy.’ One can’t raise voice against the social and political ills of the painful, disoriented and troubled times in which we are currently living.
For someone like me, it is extremely difficult to understand the pain of Kashmiris. I have never witnessed violence of this kind, nor have I been denied any of the basic necessities. I do not know what hunger is, I do not know what it means to lose a young child to death, I have not mourned, and I have not seen blood or tears. I have not lived under the perpetual gaze of the military, I have not felt the fear of being randomly picked up by state forces and raped. I have not felt fear, despair, anger, hatred, pain of this kind. But I try to understand. One is forced to ask, what would I have done when faced with confusion, mounting hysteria and violence? Isolated without complete information, would I have responded self protectively or aggressively? If one thinks of it – imagine – that bands of people dressed as soldiers are going on shooting bullets, you can see entire houses/towns in rubbles and gradually the place where you live, the streets become tense, people walk quickly (or are not to be seen). Doors and windows shut tightly. Tempers grow shorter; can you protect yourself or your loved ones? The news is that a militant is hiding in your neighbourhood, death seems to come closer. Every moment as the time passes is becoming merciless. You have been told that your relatives have been killed, raped, shot at, lost their visions, your own people are dying. What do you do? Should you also kill? The situation in Kashmir relates not just loss of moral senses, of life, of home, of tradition, of integrated community – it places us in the midst of a depraved, absurd universe. It is time that we spoke, for Kashmir. Not for India this time. Iss bar Azaadi chahiye. A political solution which benefits everyone. Agar Kashmir humara hai, to Kashmiri bhi humare hain. Unko Azaadi chahiye. The military has to leave. For Kashmir needs to write a new narrative in red, not of blood this time but of a bold history, beautiful culture, pain, fear, home, love and hope in its various spaces.
(Author is currently pursuing PhD from Jawaharlal Nehru University.)