The recent news story by NDTV reported that around 50 young men have left their lucrative jobs in Saudi Arabia and returned permanently to Kashmir’s Salani village in district Poonch to join the Army and police in order to avenge the killing of their friend and fellow villager rifleman Aurangzeb. The 24-year-old jawan was en route home to celebrate Eid when he was abducted and later shot dead in south Kashmir during the month of June.
Earlier, the video of Aurangzeb’s last minutes in captivity had gone viral on social media, showing him allegedly confessing his role not only in the killing but even defilement of dead bodies of some militants. Apparently, his killing was presented as a revenge killing as well.
Rifleman Aurangzeb’s father, a retired sepoy of the Jammu and Kashmir Light Infantry, had given the government an ultimatum of 72 hours to avenge the killing of his son. His brother, who’s also a serving army man, vowed to avenge Aurangzeb’s killing. Threatening the government, he had said, “We want revenge”.
The NDTV report raises many germane doubts. Seems some ‘unique features’ are associated with the village of Salani. Firstly, more than 50 people of one small hamlet are working in Saudi Arabia and all of them happen to be the “friends” of slain rifleman. That’s why, all of them collectively resign from their jobs and return home to avenge the killing of their friend! Is it a factual coincidence or a script of any crony opera? Secondly, it sounds quite intriguing as to how all the 50 friends of slain rifleman are sure to avenge his killing while being jobless? Sans any assurance from any quarter, it doesn’t seem viable.
The whole event is a pathetic commentary over the viciously revenge politics that runs like a murky source beneath the ‘overbright’ tale of combat in Kashmir. It smacks of dimensions that are dangerously complex and deeply moving. Of stories with too much back stories. What’s more, it’s of the type of reporting on Kashmir that reeks of poor research and insensitive churnalism.
For all practical purposes, the scenario is taking the toll of Kashmiri youth. While pitching divisions in social structures, a kind of anarchy is prevailing that is meant to confuse the youth. What an ironical example of this than a 48-hour militant boy, an engineering graduate who reportedly aspired to become a civil servant and had also cleared the physical fitness test for the post of Sub-Inspector’s job in J&K police—the agency taken as rather notorious by masses for its role in anti-militancy operations? Compare it with other somber shade of reality wherein several policemen are fleeing their ranks along with their service rifles and joining various militant outfits.
Additionally, as per news reports, every funeral of a local militant spawns at least two additions to the ranks of militant groups. If it’s how it works, then these ‘getaways and glamorizations’ do not seem so far-fetched to the ground reality in Kashmir. Opposed to the charade and complexity of the violence, it appears to give little sign of living the life any other way. It may well be misconstrued as a ‘revengeful reaction’.
Bottomline: Vengeance turns us into vultures. Taking revenge is no big deal. Eye for an eye is sure to turn our adversary blind. But what retains our sight is the clemency we tag along despite our capacity and clout to settle scores. Because, sooner or later, the nemesis itself serves the revenge the people deserve without any human intervention.
Of course, the game of politics is ugly to the point of being grotesque. It can endure a deadly war. But it can’t build a life. The anger and alienation of our youth parodies the rage of ruthlessly hypocritical times they are living in. All this confounded posturing has made optimism trifling and clarity difficult for them. Sadly.