Khuda soba ……theek chewhaz.
How are you ?
Where shall i write to you ?
On the skin of Martyrs?
Or the shadow of disappeared ?
Or in the wail of mothers?
Or in the shriek of sisters who used to be raped in orchards of kashmir ?
And where shall i post it to ?
As you know this country is still without a post office.
I never wrote to you before , i am a bit nervous….
In Kashmir, my homeland, people fear a lot .But your fear is subdued constantly by other fears__fear of indian army, fear of police, fear of Indian state, fear of being Kashmiri, fear of being of being a muslim , fear of being a jamatie (jamat-e-islamia), fear of leaving families for work and fear of comming back to home after work, fear of being and fear of not being.
God, your goodself is not paying attention to us since a long. We are drowning. We need divine intervention. God please send us your peacekeepers. Now please don’t tell me those three interlocutors (Mr. Padgaonkar, Mr.Ansari and Mrs. Kumar) were sent by you in 2010.
O….diety……we are born free, then why don’t you make sure that we remain free. Oh God, How can you tolerate such occupation ? We are a small family of a little more than 10-million and we do not want to be part of that big choas. You have made us distinct and we appreciate it, but those fascists want us to assimilate.
Have some mercy ALMIGHTY !
How long families of Afzal guru ,Asiya andrabi , parveena and many more will wait . Do you listen to their sobs. How can you be silent when your own creation is disappearing.Little Suzanne is still waiting for Mother Neelofer and aunt Asiya in the orchards of shopian . Mother’s waiting for childrens and children’s waiting for mother’s. Everyone here is waiting for someone who never returns. Maimoona muzaffar lost their son’s knowing they won’t ever return. And only we know what we had lost ,
“کرِدار چوَن اکھ مثال،
گفتار چوَن بے مثالٗ
یاَونسَ چاَنسْ کتَہ انَ زَباَن،
ژٕ چکھُ مہتاَب سوْن برُہاَن۔”
The families of Saddam paddar, Pandit, Waseem, Tariq, Sabzar, Ishfaq, khanday,Shah, Anees, Musa and many more are in mourn knowing their sons and brothers won’t be back ever. My grandparents waiting for their only son, my Ammi waiting for their only brother. Ours is a bleeding country whose graveyards are always busy. They hit our brothers and sisters with pellets making them blind life-long. The painful cries still reverberate in my ears and it had been hard for all of us. And they question always ;
“دوَہسَ تہِ چھِ روَتلَ باَساَن،
موَجیِ گاَش کوَنیِ یِوان”
and they are always left unanswered !
We have no one to console us. It is so painfull and it ain’t just a small cosmic coincidence for we people. They are coercing our leaders. Even the uncle sam and Aunt Britney want us to compromise . Do you also approve to this ?
Do you like resistance?
You have rewarded those in Vatican , Marino, Tuvalu and who not within a country of their own and why not we ?
Take it aside, now it seems to me,
“I lived in the world that seems rather grim,
At least at first sight you know what i mean,
Where i made peace with demons,
Where every home comes with ghosts,
Where disloyalty, infidelity , dishonesty, cheat are on peak,
Where lies make history,
Where i see hell i the eyes of those who promised us of heaven,
Where i found monsters with friendly faces and angles full of scars,
For you see the droids had taken over,
And all the cities destroyed,
And the end of the world just seemed closer and closer.”
GOD , Be a kashmiri for one day. Come to Anantnag, come to shopian, come to tral, come to our home , come to kashmir. Forget that you are KAHAAR , be RAHEEM.
You know we are in suffering but our suffering becomes ease when you promised us as ,
“Fa inna Ma Al Usri Yusra,
Inna Ma Al Usri Yusra ”
Almighty ,
This is only a glimpse of our suffering. I write all these words to express what I am feeling. But they are never enough. I always have a feeling I shall have written more a few words. I wish I could write to your goodself all about death, murders, taking a knife, slashing skin, injustice, separation, ravishment and yes , i think then i will go in my own shallow. Why I am writing this to you because I am done. I wish I could keep on writing till I collapse. I wanna write till all my blood is dried up and my skin turns blue and eyes popout and thenceforth I bequeath in tranquility.
Humaira Khan, student (dept.of English litt)
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