An interesting read:: http://www.openthemagazine.com/article/nation/sorry-kashmir-is-happy
Dear President Obama:
My name is Ibreez Ajaz, and I came to the United States when I was two years old. I was born in Srinagar, Kashmir during the height of militancy, a time so volatile that getting my mother safely to the hospital on the day before my birth required my parents to leave our house before dawn. There was a curfew on the city that day and a shoot at sight order for any who disobeyed. My parents were taking quite a chance. The military was known to shoot first, and then wonder perhaps if anyone could have been innocent. By sheer luck and the grace of God, they reached the hospital without a hitch, but it had become more than evident to them that leaving their homeland was the only option if they wanted to raise a family. So that’s just what they did. And every year I would wonder when we could go back. My parents, ever patient, would tell me the same thing- Insha’Allah next year, God willing, if the halaat, the conditions, get better. But it always seemed to get worse, and after a point, I gave up on ever returning to my paradise. You may be wondering as to why I’m telling you all of this. Kashmir has hardly ever been in the headlines, unless natural disasters were to strike. But in the last two or so decades, more than 40,000 innocent lives have been lost, and 8,000 to 10,000 men and boys have disappeared. There have been families literally ripped asunder, there have been actions taken that have suppressed basic human rights, and all of this has occurred with no voice of reproach. Is our blood worthless? I’m not asking you to send troops. I know that’s not a feasible option, and outside of a few handicrafts, we’ve nothing much to offer. I can understand why a blind eye has been turned our way. You wouldn’t want to jeopardize the relationship America has with India. Sacrifice of a few for many, right? But I’m not asking for freedom. I’ve come to the sad conclusion that it’s best to toss that dream aside in favor of progress. All I want is equal treatment, fair treatment. I want my people to be offered the same amenities as any other Indian, for the schools and universities to be well-equipped, the roads paved, and houses lit. Is that too much to ask? I want there to be a land for my children to see, one that still holds the lingering remnants of its once praised of beauty. Have you heard of AFSPA? Armed Forces Special Powers Act. The Indian parliament decided that the armed forces in Jammu and Kashmir needed ‘special powers’ in order to keep the calm. So, in 1990, J&K became the eighth state where this act was enforced. It essentially allows armed forces to shoot upon any individual perceived to be disturbing the peace, arrest without a warrant any person who has either done wrong or is suspected to have committed a crime, enter and search homes, businesses, and whatnot as required, and stop any suspicious vehicles. Those acting in accordance with this Act are completely protected from any legal repercussions associated with their actions if deemed appropriate. Though it was supposedly meant to cool down the raging fire in the Valley, all it has succeeded in doing is increase tensions and produce riots against its enactment. Like any other war-torn nation, Kashmir has its good days and bad days. On the good ones, you could almost forget that there was any turmoil in the Valley. But the bad days? I don’t dare go beyond the gate of my house, lest the bunker at the end of my street thinks me a terrorist. Before I’d even get a chance to explain myself, I’d be shot. And he’d be protected. There’s a lot of anger amongst the enforcers. Frustration too. And the outlets for these turbulent emotions lead to many deaths, usually teenaged. I’ve seen a man get beaten for simply asking when a curfew would be lifted. But nobody ever talks about that. Nobody ever says anything because it just doesn’t matter. These people, these orphans, these parents who await sons that’ll never come home-- they don’t matter. When you were elected, many Kashmiris rejoiced. Many wept. Many hoped you would herald in a new beginning for them, give them back the security they once had, and allow them to live as humans once more. But on your visit to India in 2010, not even a glance was given to Kashmir, let alone a cursory mention, regardless of the bloodshed that had terrorized the Vale just a few months before. 112 people died, a lot of them my age, just kids, just students. The future. I guess their deaths were in vain. Now you are up for reelection. This year I can finally vote in my first ever presidential election. I’m excited, but at the same time troubled. Who should I vote for? I want to believe that your administration will do right by my people this time around. You had vowed to send a special envoy to Kashmir once elected, but that plan was quickly tossed aside when India refused to agree. Our hopes were dashed once again, but don’t worry. Broken promises are nothing new for us. Look, I get that you don’t want to inject yourself into the mire that epitomizes my homeland. But at this point, we’re tired. Let me repeat: we’re not asking for freedom, just peace. Stability. Do we not even have that right? Mail it tomorrow! |