Political histrionics are not new to Kashmir. People have been usually deluded to think the way politicians want them to. Every time the political opportunism happening around is beyond compare. It’s disgracefully and debasingly unique than ever before. The defeated are not ready to reconcile with their loss of power, and the winners are terribly hypersensitive about their image and interest.
In Kashmir polity, it’s the theatre of absurd. People in politics are rarely consistent in their viewpoints and positions. Big lies and little lies; half-truths and twisted truths: There are no permanent points of political belief. The level of plausibility is so much exploited that the masses become abysmally uncritical and start discussing the pros and cons of the unceasing U-turns.
Of course, all the politicians have eventually the foul agendas to pursue. What makes the difference is the degree of camouflage that the politicians belonging to various camps practice in the realization of their agenda. The mainstream politicians in Kashmir are nearly power corrupt. They have failed to hide their lust for power, despite a lot of masquerading. Through ever-varying range of smokescreens, they stand exposed in their political designs. The masses are disillusioned with them.
For politicians belonging to non-mainstream camp, their agenda remains obscure, almost invisible. Barring a few, their confusing and contradictory position over different issues/events renders their agenda oblique. From prickly bothered about their personal problems to establishing commercial properties, their real politics remains blurry. Politicking for them is somewhat slithery as well as a smooth shady walk. Time and circumstances decide for their standpoints. The masses are perplexed over their credibility as well.
The scenes in Kashmir politics appear no more spectral. Right now, things have become so baffling and mysterious that the actual politics about the actual issues have been plastered with a pack of propaganda from all sides. The actual stories are viciously dumped down, whilst the fake ones float around conspicuously.
Truth has not been the only casualty in Kashmir. Our social-system too has been the target. And, it is bigger damage. Almost irreparable. A growing disguise in every role at every place has become our hallmark. Swathed in numerous layers of doublespeak, the reality of ours has got deeply buried in the irretrievable chasm.
The reality that this was a place of sages and saints; the reality this was an abode of dignity and deference; the reality that this was home to best traditions; the reality that this once beautiful vale was a proud dwelling of some good politicians, leaders, preachers, elders and youngsters equally—Today, this all seems a chimera; a wild imagination that wrestles to coat the contours of ugly reality with the texture of a ruined dream….
change in us;
A fissure glides
the dream away, slowly….
now stuck up
in a deadwood frame.
Today I stare it,
peep into its
mock its false form
weep at its emptiness….
If splendid has been our history, then why this painful tussle between the past and present? Surely, there is little point in striking our heads against walls and feeling betrayed. Our present has vandalized our past. Killings, day in and day out, are redolent of uncertainty and doom that continue to hover over Kashmir. The lumpenization of sorts—political to intellectual—is thriving in all aspects. We have been left rootless and roomless. We cannot hark back to anything sans meaning and merit. We are helpless in nurturing anything fearlessly for the future. Whenever such a kind of dilemma rolls up in any society, it is to be taken as a distress signal. A forewarning buzzer of a menacing situation!
The facade of bluster and bravado has to go. The deception of manipulative elements has to be unveiled. It needs assertion: A strong assertion of our reality. Any such assertion is likely to be attacked. We may find this divisive and disruptive. But, it has to be pursued relentlessly. Following a wrong approach can cultivate a wrong reality in the minds of people and it may be too late by the time rectification is made. Even too grueling to grieve over—
People die for dreams;
water them with their
tears and blood.
But dreams still die!
Revolutions are aborted.
I find this revelation sad
yet shed no tear;
Rather I dance in
the dusty ruins of my dream,
drink from its dropped wounds,
and ridicule my silly creation.
I laugh at it, tragically….