FREE MINDS

Here is a what a young free mind had to say in a poem (published recently in a newspaper) about the current scenario in Kashmir. I found the irony too sad not to share with everyone...read on to find out for yourself what the tender souls are being watered with in the current toxic political scene in the "paradise lost". It is so sad that all the madness, uncertainity and cruelity around, is having a hopelessly devastating effect on everyone in that unfortunate land. May be even God has forgotten it like the rest of the world...

"FREEDOM"
by Tabish Nazir

The idea of freedom has been agitating me for so long. NEVER WAS I so aware of what freedom meant to my people, nor did I ever give a thought to the thousands of deaths and scores of massacres that occurred long back when I was just a toddler. Never did the slogans of liberation stir my heart, nor did they ever grab my attention. A simple life, going to school, coming back, friends, and family etc. That was my life just as expected. But right when I was in the seventeenth year of my life, I witnessed something I had been knowing all my life but never considered pondering over it. I realized that those strong voices demanding freedom weren’t just expressions of excitement but those of enthusiasm. For the first time the unprecedented happened, at least it was unprecedented for me. Millions marched on roads, some with dark bands on their foreheads and some with green flags in their hands. Perhaps my very first views were obvious, nothing but wastage of time and energy. But as days passed I went deeper and deeper into the psychology of all those who had suffered at the hands of their fate. And then for the first time I saw misery in the eyes of those who were orphaned, those whose dear ones had been killed but what actually set me ablaze was the plight of those searching for their beloved, unaware whether they are alive or not. Though easy for me, life wasn’t as easy for my people. I sensed their obsession for freedom as they raised their voices against oppression.

A spell was cast on my people, my town
That its men will lose in the test of time
Yet they’ll fight amidst voices forced down
Tranquility and its journey to crime.

Blood-strewn streets were cleaned so soon
But on thy mother’s veil O son
The stain remains since that Friday noon
You were killed and yet you won

Though her screams have silenced long back
But she still waits for her beloved
Hoping you’ll come home for a snack
Tired in the fields, your feet naked.

Your child knows his father is gone for long
To the land where God resides
Yet yearns for your lullabies, that one song
With which his sleep abides.

Your footsteps aren’t being heard now
In the courtyard of dreams and hopes
But your thatched roof, just see how
Has bent as snow adorns the slopes.

Old and bent, your father is tired
Knows you won’t be back again
But curses his fate for the day you were fired
His son wriggled away and died in pain

Alas! Your room, your working place
Lies in wait for you as well
Your tools with which you worked with pace
Your widow stares at that doorbell.

She will be alone now in this wide world
You have left her in ever-widening pain
And as she lies afraid and curled
In the corner; all her prayers in vain.

All of them know you were innocent
So do they know who killed you?
Their cries and complains search for a vent
Your sweet memories can’t be bidden adieu.

Friends are waiting for a joke to be cracked
Though the soil has engulfed their friend
In their hearts, your words lie stacked
Lives have changed, never to mend.

Your blood-stained shroud and the peace
With which you lay, so calm
Closed eyes in the final good bye
Their last hold onto your arm.

You have died a causeless death
And millions like you had a plea
That uttered in their last breath
“I am innocent, do not kill me”!!!

I still cannot make out why that feeling occurred to me as I felt “my people are dying and yet I can’t help”. That revolution occurred may be not in the form of a real revolution for Kashmir but definitely it was a revolution for me that changed my aspect of thinking, my dimension of looking at the word freedom. And for all that I want to thank my people, the people of Kashmir to let me understand the meaning of freedom, liberation from fear and oppression and there are undoubtedly hundreds like me who realized the love for their motherland. Amidst all this I have a plea, we all struggled against oppression, the voices were crushed, the marches banned, the warriors killed but there were very few who thought of the immeasurable loss to the young students of Kashmir, the future of Kashmir...more on the original webpage (on http://www.greaterkashmir.com/)

Paradise Lost!

Some more pics of my beautiful Kashmir Valley, who ever shot these pics did an awesome job. Bravo! I tried captioning the pictures where ever I could:

TULIP GARDEN IN SRINAGAR:

THE OLD CITY: "WHERE EAGLES FLY AND THE MOUNTAINS ARE HIGH!"

THE BUND ON DAL LAKE:

DAL LAKE AND SHIKARA: FLOWERS ON DEMAND!

HAZRATBAL MOSQUE ON BANKS OF NIGEEN LAKE IN BACKDROP OF MOUNTAINS:

HOUSE BOATS:

THE MUGHAL GARDENS:

VILLAGE LANDSCAPE: LUSH GREEN TERRACED PADDY FIELDS:

GOING OUT TO THE GROCERY STORE? :-)

CLEANING DAL:

ANOTHER COLD SNOWY WINTER DAY, WEARING THE "LONG PHERAN":

A WALK ON THE EDGE OF REALITY AND DREAMS!

ON RIVER JEHLUM'S BANKS:

A SNOWY MORNING IN HISTORIC POLO-VIEW, SRINAGAR:

MISTIQUE OF THE VALLEY AND DAL:

DAL LAKE AND ZABARVAN HILLS:

HOUSE BOAT AND GEESE:

FISHERWOMEN:

WONDERFUL GULMARG:

COUNTRY SIDE AND MUSTARD FIELDS:

SHIKARAS LINE UP ON DAL SIDE:

HOUSE BOATS ON DAL:

SHIKARAS, HOUSE BOATS AND DAL IN LAP OF MOUNTAINS:

BREATH TAKING LANDSCAPE!:

BACKPACKING:

LOTS OF BLUE AND GREEN AND A DASH OF WHITE-THATS KASHMIR!:

MUSTARD FIELDS:

FLOWER GARDEN:

A RIVULET!