‘I’m a teacher… I’m going to school,’ she thought that she would
collapse down with fear.
‘See sir, everything is normal
in Indian Kashmir. People are making ,
‘Let me talk to
her… excuse me, madam… Are you satisfied…,’
‘Please Mr. Paul, you’re not
allowed to talk anyone direct. It’s an order and you must have to follow the
rules,’
‘I’m a journalist and fair
reporting is my right. No one checked on me when I was in Pakistan for
reports… Excuse me, madam. What’s your name? Are you…,’ a fair colored
young and enthusiastic journalist took her camera and struggle his neck out of
the window.
‘Start the engine, Aneel. Mr.
Paul, try to understand. Everything is under control here. You have observed a
woman walking alone and safe. All rape stories are fake coming out of Kashmir.
It's Pakistan…,’ that army man was at variance when jeep moved forward.
‘No, I’m not satisfied. These
Indian army men have taken up my 17 years old, brother, and we don’t know is he alive or not? Our young and children are
blind with pellet guns and pepper bombs. Indian army beats our young with
cables and sticks till death and we’re out of medicines… India has
scrapped down the internet or any communication from Kashmir … … listen… Mr. Journalist … I
want to talk to you… Kashmiri
are blaming guilty just demanding their promised right “independence”…
"freedom”… listen…,’ her screams were boiling inside her. Paul could
see her eyes chasing him till sight, but he didn't respond.
‘Aaa … … … Haadi was pleading almost unconscious. He was hung up and
down in a dark room with other 10 men. Two army men were beating them with
sticks and cables.
‘Beat them more tightly unless
he tells the names of his allies. It’s better for you if you tell the name of
stone-throwers,’ an army man entered. All political party leaders and activist
were already under arrest to halt any response on the curfew relief.
‘I don’t know…,’
‘Take them down and use an
electric shock to freshen up their memories,’ army officer got hysteric for
finding nothing.
She entered the school gate where the school was barren according
to her expectations.
‘Parents are scared that if
they send their children to school and riots erupt meanwhile then how they are
going to manage their children. All communication is already cut for days. I
don’t think the children will come until the situation is under control,’
watchman got up after looking at her.
‘Madam Ayesha and Madam Asiya
are also here,’ he took out the key.
‘Ayesha… is
Ayesha also here?’ she got surprised.
‘Madam Ayesha’s wedding is
delayed due to clampdown and curfew in the city. Whatever India do, we’ll not
stay back, one inch of our demand of freedom from India,’ watchman sighed.
‘If you people and your
children are so stressed and affected by riots
then why don’t you let go your demands of “independence” and stay back calm.
You Kashmiri’s are playing drama Moodi
‘Just ignore her; Shaan will come here in a while. He needed some aid,’
Ayesha whispered to Meerab about her fiancé.
‘But…,’
‘Why didn’t you learn from Burhan Wani’s martyrdom? Nothing
you could do with his sacrifice, but waste your time on mutiny. The whole world
is under the feet of shining India. No one will come to listen to beggar
Pakistan and a yelling mob. Just set to work. I hope one-month curfew was
enough to dump on your nerves,’ Himani Singh pointed towards a pile of papers,
charts, and registers while bellowing on Pakistan.
‘I’ll help you,’ Meerab looked at Ayesha.
‘What do we want?’
‘Azadi (Independence),
‘Kashmir baney ga
“Pakistan”
“Pakistan zindabad
‘My kids are alone and scared at home. I want to leave early,’
Asiya pleaded to Himani...
TO BE CONTINUED
TO BE CONTINUED
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