At times, it's literally hard to define and detect pain. Pain can roll up to surface. It can remain raged within. It's manifestation is not always obvious. It's primarily because each individual has its own versions of pain and the threshold to tolerate it. There are multiple ways to look at the pain in our lives. One way is to feel defeated and frightened over the inevitability of change around us, especially painful changes. The other is to take on the same set of facts to use pain as a constant reminder of fleeting state of life—That nothing stays forever. And nothing possesses intransience. So, one of the only certainties in life is Change.
We are born. We grow. We live. We wither. And we die. The story of life begins. Then ends. Along the way, we step on varied experiences. The world fetches lasting lessons. We re-learn many a bitter truths. We de-learn many a nasty facts. We apprehend events in and out. We recognize real and unreal. We smell things good and bad. We counter situations gracing and humiliating. We see people in black and blue. We explore personalities deep and shallow. We feel emotions fervent and feeble. We capture realities easy and hard. In brief, we struggle to understand the basic nuance: A slice of life purporting an amazing mosaic!
That's why the universal flux and fragility of human affairs helps nurture pain in different determined directions. Pain can per se turn out to be a change-agent. Past two months have been quite traumatic for Kashmir. It continues to be so. Kashmir has become synonymous to pain. It's a living, throbbing pain. Purporting a saddened mosaic. The gory visuals of dead and injured; the letters of tears and torment; the scenes of yelling and screaming; the wailing of mothers and sisters; the gatherings of mourning and funerals; the raging streets; the garrisoned places; and the locked out land—the images beget typical desolation that have struck Kashmir like an avalanche. A tragic saga of political predicament that seems to consume Kashmir atrociously.
Each day, Kashmir dawns into unthinkable catastrophe that turns thinkable by the turn of the dusk. Strange darkness swathes it. Graves warm up to their new dwellers. Young bodies shroud the soil. Slogans and shouts rip through the dappled nights. Scalpels of cruelty shred deep the wounds of its memory. Of savage slavery. Of bleeding promises. Of historical betrayals. Of the theatre of absurd exploited by the cunning adversary.
So, Kashmir dribbles blood, day in and out. Pain seethes as propaganda machinery paints Kashmir farcically, from official "luxuries" extended to the separatist camp to the so-called "social grace" arguments of culture-vultures who believe in the philosophy of 'dog doesn't eat dog' and display Olympian detachment by being blind to huge repression on their own people. Behind the claptrap and ambiguity of mainstream politicians, the failure of statecraft scoffs at its mega size. From Srinagar to New Delhi, their frustration is festering. And amidst all this, Kashmir resurges with its pain, more resolute than ever before. As coffins count up, the chutzpah in Kashmir is unsurprisingly getting established. The narrative of resilience is taking shape, talked about in every household, from kids to elders. From local shopkeeper to privileged school-goer, everyone is drawn in the challenging situation.
For so much sacrifice has gone into its making, where almost every commoner has offered its bit, it now needs to be interpreted and handled carefully. No gain saying, with colossal sacrifices arrive intense responsibilities to safeguard the spirit and sincerity behind such offerings.
There is so much pain around. The palpable, piercing pain. So much agony. The touching, terrible agony. Kashmir is besieged in bereavement. It's harboring horror as well as hopes. Before pain here becomes a political football and public fatigue pops, people at the helm of affairs have to respect and value this ordeal with perception. It's a herculean task. If this time round, collective pain in Kashmir is letdown, it will leave an ugly, indelible mark behind. Something that will alter the future discourse on Kashmir and prove as a historical comedown…
It may take endless time
to reach a distant goal,
But slipping back doesn't take any time at all.
They say that history repeats itself today,
But then the best parts always seem to go astray.