Mystification!

Not that I see my world in black and white, but I have the pleasure of defining ‘BOTH’. I am not talking about the darkness of night, its life. I do not want my questions to be answered or may be I want them to be answered unhurriedly. Just like as they say, inflow of ideas should be more than outflow, so that one doesn’t run out of stocks. Inventory management to be precise. ‘I’ do not revolve around anything. I am the centre, I am the hero. Don’t call it blasphemy, these thoughts are mine and am assured, God wants me to think this. I am life till the last breath and I am death everlasting. I don’t have to pull the veil down, I am just certain and assured by my senses. I do not regret the decision; I want to write but not with trembling hands. I want every alphabetical stroke to be gentle, cutting through the edges.

It seriously seems to revolve around “I”. That’s what I have been longing to tell you for so long. I am not the ultimate truth but am not deceptive as well. I am not a dagger in beauty. I am strange to myself. Exploring would be a good idea, but I need to find some good time. Then delve deep into the truth of self, know thy own self- thy soul like back of thy hand. Well, this is going to be a long discussion with no dimensions. Better, cut it short; cut it here.

Almost dark in the middle of Dal Lake, how would one feel? Silent waters infuse calmness to heart and mind. The rowing noise is soothing, and I call on to people. Not that I just want to make them hear what I say, but I want them to do the same. I want them to hear the silence, look into each others eyes without feeling embarrassed. No traitors among us, brothers in spirit. But I am still alone, I do not have anyone to look into eyes, I wont let it discourage me. It’s not a day and it’s not the dark, for me it’s a rendezvous with my own self. I do not need the mirror to talk to, my conscience is awake and my principles strong enough to answer my questions. Something I ran far to think about. I needed some outer peace to tie the broken chords inside. I know I am not alone in all this; there are people like me, made of same flesh and blood, who suffer more than I do. Pointlessly at the hands of destiny we succumb. Its comprehension is not easy neither is the way out painless.

I am part of the world filled with every imaginable beauty and evil. Rain doesn’t clean my sins, my tears wash me away. Should I jump into the silent waters to extract its calmness or drown to be a part of tranquility? Only if people would understand how they, in this world pay for the sins they commit, I would have had a long queue behind. The water levels would increase and kill rest of the population through contamination of rotting bodies.

My intuitions are not prophecies, but that’s not enough to prove them wrong. I do not follow the truth, I am my own follower. How good would it be, if I be the truth.

We won the battle, We will win the War!

I spent all the night looking at moon. That whiteness filled my life with beauty. As if some one was lighting my way in a dense forests. I missed the scary voices and felt at peace after a pretty long time. I wanted life to slow down and have some timeless breaths. Body and soul in absolute harmony. How frequently does this happen? Not many a times I get the feeling that my soul fits the dungeon perfectly and they compliment each other. I do not feel betrayed and I do not feel the pain, happiness is spilled.

I some how missed the two days. A packet of salted peanuts had done the job, acidity was on full swing. Half a bottle anti acid, two capsules and an Injection at the end did the trick for me. And that’s the time when you remember God the most. Naraye Takbeer –Allahu Akbar. Although, primarily I thought my surviving chances were low, I fortunately survived with no changes in my eating habits. I had some Pani Puri late last evening. Which was latter followed with corn, chilly chicken and red chili mixed with onions.

Jamia Chalou! A slogan for today. I some how felt very happy, after I listened to Mirwaiz Umar Farooq, yesterday. It dawned on me that he has finally matured to become a leader. For the very first time I thought he overshadowed his contemporary with the same name, Omar Abdullah. Ms.Mufti is not to speak of, I still feel she needs to join some English speaking course but then one cannot buy intellect as well. I do not know how long will these Pro-Indian parties act as cats who close their eyes to the threat.

I just admired the sense of responsibility of people from all the walks of life. Yatri’s and Tourists were served food by the local people, who have been collecting money from their neighborhoods so that the guests do not feel abandoned. The strike has created least difficulty for the Yatri’s and more than that proved that Kashmiri’s have not divorced their culture of hospitality. While news of few political parties blocking the Jammu-Srinagar highway flew in, People of Budgam in no time sent loaded trucks of vegetables to city to be distributed free of cost. These without doubt are the signs of a conscious nation.

Experience teaches great lessons. That was to be seen today when only Syed Ali Geelani, of all the separatists leaders was able to slip away from police, while all others were house arrested. He has been playing hide and seek with police for past one week now, turning out to be a teenager once again. He makes me remember of Mujahid’s who never slept at their houses. May God accept their “SHAHADAT”. These acts of Geelani Saeb are truly admirable and we pray he lives to see Kashmiri’s as an Azaad Qaoum. Although police had been alerted at all entry and exit points leading to Jamia Masjid, still around 25,000 people were able to make it. At stake was noting less than life.

Finally after the week long protests, the Land Transfer order was revoked which has brought a wave of happiness among the people. Late in the evening I happened to join the rally led by Yaseen saeb. The rally lighted the streets with fire lit sticks. And voices filled the emptiness of night. A walk through Lal Chowk gave the feeling of a Freedom eve, women and children singing songs of Azaadi. That green flag on clock tower, ambience smelled of freshness. And that one slogan which has a different meaning for every occupied nation.

Aye Aye, Azaadi

Quraan Wali, Azaadi,

Furqan Wali, Azaadi,

Sunnat Wali Azaadi.

And then added with,

Behan kya maange, Azaadi,

Baap Kya Mange,Azaadi,

Booda mange, Azaadi

Bacha Maange, Azaadi

Aye Aye, Azaadi.

The Mass uprising should act as an eye opener for those who talk of ‘Realism’. Kashmir only knows one Realism that’s Azaadi. When we can get 100 acres back, why not the whole of state. This took us ten days and may be a greater revolution will take us a year. I believe when ever we stand as united again; we would be just a year away from absolute freedom. Kashmiri’s have proved that they are people of conscience, Zinda Quoam.

Naraye Takbeer -Allahu Akbar.

Intifada.

I feel great, sufferings have changed. It has been few days, since I started writing the “Protest Blog”. This is my way to protest, but I don’t want to miss on the big things as well. History is in making. Some times I just want to leave loose the person inside me. But, then I slam it back to the dungeon of my soul. I wonder what my soul demands, may be silence and solitude. Damn, storm is what follows the silence. I do not have answers, but questions for myself. I am not a pessimist and I don’t want to electrocute myself. I just want answers, to be silent. I want to discover insanity in me.

Jaagou Jaagou Subaha Hui. Kashmir finally seems to have risen to a revolution. Revolution in its total essence and of fundamental nature. One hundred thousand people have thronged the city centre. And that one slogan, Hum Kya Chahtey, Azaadi is all what can be heard. It seems 100 acres would make India pay whole of the state. People no more are raising slogans against SASB or 100 acres. Looks like only freedom will suffice them now. I bet if you look at the city center from some height, you would forget the wave of a football stadium. The sight is one the kind. Phew, but they made me run the way.

They killed a girl protestor yesterday. Do they not know what we call men who raise hands to beat women? May be they know and they want themselves to be called so. Valley finally has a night life. Shahri-Khas is witnessing post dinner protests and sloganeering. It has almost become a daily routine to hoist green flags with crescent and star on the historical Clock tower. Guns are no more scaring people; neither is death a de-motivating factor. Not less then half a dozen bunkers, and police stations have been set on fire. Many cabinet ministers threatened to death.

What would India be thinking right now? May be deciding on how to punish the Governor, S K Sinha. First, he united factions of Hurriyat conference, something which took Indian intelligentsia 10 years to break. And, then his irrational and stupid land grab that gave people a cause to stand for. Some thing which took Indian army 20 years, to make state look normal, even though it was not. What a blessing in disguise for people of state. I believe the governor was idiot enough to make hungry lion smell the meat. And now the lion wants all of it, rather than the piece of meat.

Heard, Yaseen Malik was beaten and his arm fractured. That’s going to make them pay more, may be Punjab. It has been drizzling all through the morning. Isn’t that what we call, “Showers of Blessing”? I just dream of how coffee with a chocolate truffle will taste in Free Kashmir. Even hunger would be pleasant then. At least we would be masters of our own fate, death or life no concern.

I feel proud of my changed world. Nothing is same today. Everything has turned beautiful. Even the burning tiers and smoke shells smell good. All I see is brotherhood. A nation is in rising. It’s violent but I smell trust and truthfulness. Nothing can stop the wave. And nothing less than freedom would do.

May be the government will fall, not to rise again.

Friday

I feel very insecure today. I believe I am transforming into something new, may be better. My life has changed; tomorrow my values might change as well. You do not understand what I am going through. I feel, soon nothing will matter to me. No, I am not talking about Nirvana. I am not even leaving my worldly possession. Do I really have any? Come on, that’s a secondary question. I know it’s not going to matter to any of you. And as if I am dying to make it matter to you.

Az chu Jummah. Fifth day of week and ongoing protests as well. I just despise this illegal transfer of land. I am getting frustrated; I am running out of stocks. I sipped last can of Rani Juice (Peach Flavor) yesterday morning. My 3 year old cousin ran away with the last ‘five star’ chocolate today morning. Last few salted peanuts are left in the peanut box. No, this is no NASA thing. Last evening when I went out to have a walk and more than that to find a shop where I could buy my stocks, I could only see few medical shops open. For some time I thought I would buy some vitamin, calcium and iron injections and pills. I might die of hunger. But if I do not stop eating all this, I will surely die of over weight. But then who cares. All I am worried about right now is illegal transfer of land.

All I could smell today is burnt rubber and all my eyes can feel is brunt of tear gas. It has been busy few days for every one. The Indian army has killed few more young people. Government is still unmoved except the opposition and coalition partner who are trying to take political mileage out of the issue for the “so- called” elections to come. Did I tell you, I even despise elections under occupation? Yes, I do and every one except India does. Newspapers are filled with same. Every one talking on same lines but action is yet to be seen except of Pro-Freedom leaders, who have with masses taken to roads.

One good thing which has come up in these protests is people are leading themselves, they no more feel handicapped for the instructions. Some how, Kashmir is finally maturing in its existence. It is a “Revolution” indeed. Time is coming up to expectations. Even the mob is behaving in a civilized manner, pretty much understanding the consequences. Every protestor I believe has framed a complete picture of what’s happening and what can happen. Protests can’t get civilized than this one.

Phew, why do we have to talk about these things? Let’s get back to stories. Yes, I have started loving “story telling”. I heard some one saying it’s an art. I am learning it too. Would you hear something from my childhood? Where do I start? Okay.

There was a guy, yeah the one who ran away with the team money. Every one of us friends hated him, he always scared us. So one day, we had Crack down. It meant walking in a single line across the black gypsy, like we did in school, passing our Sikh teacher who would check our hair with his stick; we always wondered why any one didn’t check his hair. We had seen him with his hair open once on a camp. If the gypsy blew horn, the one standing in front was taken away. Many have not returned till this day. While this guy was walking towards the gypsy, all of us prayed that horn should take him away from us for some time. The guy finally reached the place and horn blew. We jumped in excitement, only to get a fierce look from our elders.

Next few days were so good, we played our hearts out. But we never saw that guy again. Some time after, I heard his left leg was broken and he had to use a walking stick since. I really felt bad that day. I wanted to confess to him. All of us wanted to, but then they say “Life is like that”. Many a times we don’t even get second a chance. But I know things will get better in a jiffy, I just know things will get better. How can they not? Some innocent and beautiful people have given blood for the cause and the cause is just.

I don’t know if I can go on a walk today, things have heated up again. I feel so sorry for myself. I can’t even have a Coffee, with Mutton Shwarma and Chocolate Truffel. Coffee Arabica will be so lonely without me. Even Robusta would do today. Let it be, I will wait till the end.