(Jan 21, 12:16pm)

My second story from Kashmir
http://www.kashmirlife.net/children-of-heaven/

In recent years, Kashmir’s infamous detention camps of the 1990s have undergone a makeover. What once echoed of howls of pain now resonate of bird song and good music. Ministers have quickly taken them over, to enjoy the surrounding mountains and mirror still lakes. The narrative of ‘occupation’ is changing. Through instruments such as the proposed police bill, the state will ensure Mushtaq and Faizan and ‘Petrol’ and thousands of other juveniles are filled with more fear. More trauma. More ridicule. More everyday ‘repression’. So that there is absolutely no note of complaint. So that there is no endeavour for justice. So that, there is ‘peace’.

XXX

(Jan 15, 2:20pm)

My first narrative piece from Kashmir, The Atonement !!
http://www.kashmirlife.net/atonement/

"A couple of hours from now, Srinagar will be dark and frigid. Farooq Posh will stand in the cold in the basement, killing time until his sons had returned. “In Muzaffarabad, they used a motorbike to go to nearby markets. Today they walk to home for over an hour from Lal Chowk,” he told me ruefully. From his house in the outskirts of Srinagar, the Himalayas seem to gherao the city like a giant’s army on vigil. On the other side of the Himalayas, across the Pir Panjal, is a nation which they call India. Farooq’s story is not known to her people. They haven’t heard about Nisar, his dead sister or his mourning wife and children. They know nothing about the long tragedy that had befallen the thousands of Farooqs and Nisars and their hapless brethren. But one day, when Farooq or Nisar or their children will pick up a stone again, or fire a gunshot again, in mindless attempt to tell the world about their plight, the sleeping conscience of the Indian mainland will at once be awakened. Not to plead their case. But to demand yet another round of ‘atonement’."

XXX

(Jan 6, 4:30pm)

Happy New Year.. Lots to share with you all..

Just give me some time to write..

XXX

Between, I dreamed of Mom again... last night.. rather today.. as I had gone to bed at only 4am... having listened to Rabindra Sangeet the whole of last night..

It was a special meeting-up with muma... special on so many counts...

First, it is still the new year season.. and we have celebrated this season rather zealously always.. and then, I'm in Kashmir, and it's such a pleasant sight here..

Snow falling into the mirror-still waters of the Dal.. and the Nageen...

XXX

And special also, as this dream was not marked by any note of meloncholy or separation.. It was all about togetherness..

We toured the city, cold as the day was... stopping at shops and buying stationary things... mom's favourite pastime... like the drawing boards and water colours... the books and diaries...

Lots of pens of different ink... files.. calendars... fancy carry bags.... Sometimes, I told her it was too much spending.. grannie would be upset...

She told me I need not worry.. and somehow, and quite unusually, I agreed..

XXX

Were it the tunes of Rabindra Sangeet which drew her to me... Perhaps.... Music penetrates afterall...

This world, or the other, a soulful music never fails to touch one's thoughts... or create reconciliation..

XXX