‘It’s just the rivers that Pakistan is luring on Kashmir otherwise
it gave damn to people over here. Look at this roaring stream, the world’s
largest freshwater reservoir just belongs to India,’ Himani opened the large
window which faced scenic view of the formation of Jhelum river.
‘Pakistan won’t give you
anything and you’re not leaving without finishing your work,’ she went hysteric
as riots mean the imposition of curfew again.
Ayesha and Meerab also got up,
leaving markers and charts.
‘Yes, we know Pakistan is luring for our rivers,
even then we want to be its part as our rivers flow down there and we want to
end with our rivers too. It’s fuel
‘How dare you…
‘No, actually it’s your time to fire out from Kashmir and thank
you so much, Mr. Narindra Modi, to take our voice to international desks by
abrogating 370-A. This fight will not end now, but will spread out and you’ll
bear thousands of Burhan Wani,’ Meerab held few charts and markers and came
out.
The mob was coming near. She and Ayesha rolled down the chart
papers and wrote slogans of freedom as big as could be when Ayesha’s fiancé Shaan
approached there.
Police raid at night and
arrested Hadi from our home. Do
you've an idea, where the police are taking young ones?’ at the first
spot on Shaan, she asked about her 17 years old younger brother.
‘My brother was innocent. We
don’t know is he alive or not? Can you help us?’ her voice filled with tears
and an unknown dread.
‘Why don’t you call your
elder brother in Delhi that he comes here and look for his younger brother and
sister? He is a big bootlicker
‘We don’t have any connection
with our elder brother for three weeks. He couldn’t approach here on Eid even.
He doesn’t know anything about Haadi and mom…,’ her voice started to break now.
‘Good for him… or for any
Indian agent…,’ Ahmed sighed.
‘Do you know where Haadi is?’
she repeated.
‘No, no one knows about the
missing persons whom Army and Police have taken up during curfew in Kashmir.
Police have shut them up at their secret torture cells. You better go back home,’
Shaan took the posters from them.
The freedom fighters were right in front of
her. She ran back to look for safe place when a tear gas shell blasted near
her. She felt a severe and stinging jerk in her mind and eyes. A white cloud
filled the holy white atmosphere and mob seems to disperse for a while. She
couldn’t get hold of Ayesha or anyone else. Just then Meerab spotted the foreign
journalist Mr. Paul out of the camera or any device, observing the situation
from far. She glimpsed a hope.
Mr. Journalist… Mr.
Journalist… I want to talk to you…,’ Meerab ran to him when a pellet gun
pierced two holes in her body and she fell
‘Take her at the sides…
‘You observed, sir, how
everything is normal in Indian occupied Kashmir. It’s just a few rebellious
minds under Pakistan’s influence which we’ll tackle soon. In fact, you should
write about it…,’ an Army officer grasped Mr. Paul’s attention just in time.
‘The demand for freedom is in the air now and no one can tackle
the air from blowing it up. India you’ll have to leave Kashmir otherwise your
pieces will shatter in a tornado,’ Haadi succumbed to injuries under Army
custody.
Mr. Paul was leaving Kashmir but he knew this freedom movement of
Kashmir is not planted from anywhere else but from the hearts of natives. Soon
or later, India will have no choice to get out of here.
THE END
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