My Paralyzed Paradise

When shall our misery end?

Sabeeha Shaheen
Srinagar, Publish Date: Apr 23 2018 11:57PM | Updated Date: Apr 23 2018 11:57PM
My Paralyzed ParadiseFile Photo

Ah, Well for us, if even we,

Even for a moment, can get free

Our heart, and have our lips unchained

For that which seals them hath been deep-ordained

                                   Mathew Arnold (The Buried Life)

Amid the snow clad mountains, blooming tulips and splendid summer, Kashmir is plunging into irretrievable chaos which is characterized by fanaticism, barbarism, regression and bigotry. We are falling for dark, sinking into silence; there seems no light at the end of the tunnel. Few days ago I was planning to go to university to submit my project work. As I was about to leave my phone rang. It was a call from my father who informed me about the militants who were snared both at Shopian and Anantnag. I changed my plan. This wasn’t the first time when I was had to change my plan twice. This has become a routine now. Few minutes later internet was snapped leaving us all in a state of extreme fury and exasperation. Absence of internet renders us dead. After rambling for couple of hours I start reading one of my favorite authors book “Three daughters of Eve by Elif Shafak”. As I turned the page to read on the next chapter, I was impeded by sudden hubbub. I put my book on the shelf, went to downstairs where my cousin accompanied with a bad news of-course conveyed about the carnage of twenty people. 

For a minute I was deadlocked. My brain turned into mush, my eyes filled with tears I broke down. There was a tornado inside me. I actually had to be calmed down by my elder sister. The next day all the newspapers were filled with the phrases, Bloody Sunday. It was a bloody Sunday. Twenty deaths on the same day is something incredible. Twenty is a big number. 

I have always been occupied with the thoughts regarding future of Kashmir. It is the same Kashmir which reflects rich culture, tradition and heritage. It is the same Kashmir where mesmerizing breeze flows, birds sing, waterfalls dance and mountains shimmer. Can we ever succeed in resolving this unending chain of sorrows and miseries, can we ever bring meaning to senselessness, order to chaos and peace to violence. Will there ever be the same Kashmir which was the land of thousand revolutionaries, mystics, Sufis, poets and intellectuals. Will we ever be able to live in peace and harmony? I dream of peace every day. As Martin Luther King said I have the audacity to dream of peace, so I say, I have the audacity to dream of peace, I have the audacity. 

This conflict which dates back to seven decades has swallowed our young people and potential minds. People died, people are dying. No words, no posts, no images, can explain the pain and misery we have been through or we are going through. We live in a state of identity and identity card crisis. We Kashmiris have failed miserably to locate our political orientation. Our leaders have dejected us always. I have pinned hopes from the people of Kashmir alone, we must stand together to fight this dark shadow which has yielded nothing but misery and sorrow. We have already lost countless human lives; we cannot afford to lose more. We must find a permanent solution to bring an end to this bloodshed. We are humans too (for God's sake). 

 

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