The distinction of being a Kashmiri…
Gazala Hassan
I sincerely fail to distinct between having this ‘distinction’ of being a Kashmiri-is it good or bad, positive or negative, critical or beneficial, usual or unusual, whatever, but bizarre at least when you are living with a cosmopolitan gathering.Let me not generalize this opinion of mine neither can I .But it has always been something quite difficult for me and ultimately I find myself in a fix. I am caught in crisis or more specifically identity crisis. ”Who am I”?-An Indian? An Indian Muslim or a Kashmiri?
It was not just for the first time, but many times now I had confronted it and thankfully so as every time it kept me wondering and I delved deep and deeper, shared with few and more. It always happened when I was asked to introduce myself and tell something special about my native place-my beloved homeland!I was so and so from---???I belonged to---???The most difficult situation which entangled me and deep inside my heart I bewailed .At times it was easy to escape but sometimes it was not really easy and lots of tricks were needed and traps could trap you simultaneously.
The people easily identified you and related you to the “Apples of Kashmir”. Then I asked myself: Was it all only about apples, almonds, snow caped mountains, gushing waters, scenic beauties, glittering glaciers rather melting….or more!
Undoubtedly it was far more than all these things to me and most of the suffering kashmiris. For us it’s about a bloody valley, silent sufferings, tyranny, oppression, lacking leadership, broken trust and concocted truth which was exported to the simple masses of India who knew very well about the apples, scenic beauty and the “terrorists” but were kept miss informed. Perhaps, they (big bosses) knew that masses were equally sensitive if ever they came across the atrocities Kashmiris were facing .Indeed they were sensitive enough as tears rolled down their cheeks and you felt that surge of affection and support from their side too .Not their mistake as they were only told about the bollywood films which were shooted in the valley and they also knew about some mayhem prevailed, but why who and what were kept away from their reach and understanding.
Despite every odd I strongly felt how true was this distinction, the distinction of being a Kashmiri!
My agony and ecstasy, the beautiful and ugly.....the greenery and the dirt....the passionate believer and the eternal despondent....my country, my land, my world, my home...