I have just boarded the flight to Srinagar. The only way I could find to reach my parents. I haven’t been able to contact them since past 4 days. This is the story of every Kashmiri living away from the valley –a valley writhing under the weight of brute force.
Once I reach there, I’ll be incommunicado. No phones, no internet, not even landlines. This air journey feels like one down an abyss. I’ll give an update when it’s possible to. I don’t have the faintest idea when that will be possible. I am surrounded by numb Kashmiris.
There is so little I know about my people there. Yet I know so much. My mother’s eyes would be red by now — from hours of crying and lack of sleep. My father would be weaker than before. They’ll hug me and cry, I know, even when I don’t know how I’ll reach home.
I feel like a messenger with a great burden, carrying a dozen voice messages of my friends, cousins and neighbours, who recorded them for their families. I made a promise to them, that I’ll deliver the messages to their families.
Every other Kashmiri I met at the airport , flight and I’ll meet in my homeland would be teary eyed. I know my street will be marked by gun-toting armymen. I can already feel how their stares would make me feel.
Friend, last 4 days have been very tough. While I was dealing with stress and anxiety, most of you have been a great support. I’ll be in debt to those who reached out to me in every small and beautiful way, texting, calling, sending kind words, and through so many other gestures.
I am also amazed by d depravity with which some people have unmasked themselves. Every person I earlier gave the benefit of doubt, was indeed a bigot, or a hound cheering for bloodbath. Don’t blame you. You’ll never know how it feels until it’s one of your own.
I don’t know what the future holds for us Kashmiris. But I know, that whatever has happened, and whatever worse can, will only bring us closer.
A few minutes more . See you home