Why should i care?

From the name itself, you might have guessed i belong to kashmir. Kashmir, known as heaven on earth. Kashmir, a place people would dream of. A place, people would like to spend rest of their lives. A place, which would drive people crazy by its snow clad mountains, and streams, and … I could go on like that forever.

But then, it all changed. It all changed too suddenly. And i felt it was changing for good, only to figure out, that it was worst… A beautiful place turned into one of the most ugliest. Heaven transformed into hell. Love into Hatred. Animosity…

But… .. . do i care???

The past 17 years have thrown ugliest moments at my face, and i have seen them all, watched them all pass by. And people around me have seen worst. Sons dying in cold blood, Sisters being raped and killed, brothers being tortured and murdered. And who is responsible for it all? My pandit neighbour says, I am, a kashmiri muslim. For all the wrongs that happened in this beautiful land, I am responsible. For all the killings, I am responsible. For the murder of my loving pandith neighbour, for the grenade blast that took lives of my brothers, for the rape by security forces of my sister, for the torture of my son in interrogation centers, for … for everything in the valley. I am responsible…

 But, i always wonder how?

My pandit neighbour says i should have spoken, spoken when it mattered most, spoken when i felt things are going wrong, spoken against the people who had gun in their hands, asked them to stop this madness, asked them to shun violence… But then, i felt it right then… I felt it right… Why??? Was that because of the rigging in elections? or was it because of the events that took place few decades back? Was that because we felt alienated, or was that because we were deceived by our own leaders. Was that because i couldn’t think beyond my two loaves of bread. Was that a moment of madness? I wouldn’t know, but what i know is that kashmiriat got killed… Kashmiri pandits being killed in broad daylight, those are my memories of the time. I would wonder, if all are mukhbirs… then muslim women getting killed, thought to be mukhbir…Every killing seemed justified.

 When i look back at those events, i feel i lost it all. We lost it all. Every muslim who raised his voice against the movement got killed as mukhbir. And that was the start of the never ending tragedy. After the mass migration of pandits, it was the time for muslims to die and die they did, in thousands and are still dying… Are they dying for keeping mum when they should have spoken, or can we justify the killings.

I would not know, but all i know, is that one day, walking along the street in a busy Lal chowk, I will hear a big sound of grenade, a deafening sound followed by a lul in the air. The pieces of flesh all around me, in pool of blood i see bodies around. And as i breath my last, i wonder, was it all i had to see of this world…

If that is going to be the end of me, then why should i care? Why??