Unanswered...

Unanswered…

 
It was icy cold outside. Asif was still engrossed in his lucid phantasmagoria as he saw himself with his brothers and his little sister playing together by the lush greens on the Kashmir Valley , the paradise, the most salubrious place on the earth, reflecting the true grandeur of the nature’s beauty. Indeed, the world of fantasy and dreams is much more pleasing than the appalling and dire present situation we are all accustomed to.

‘Hurry up, Beta, get up, You have to go to Rehman Sahib early today…’ came in the humble call from Asif’s mother, a lost mother, a mother, who perhaps has suffered much more than any other woman in the world. Moving her tender hands across Asif’s face, she lovingly gazed at those eyes of Asif, eyes which have experienced the hardships of life much more than any other child of Asif’s age…

In no time, Asif got up, and coming out of the petty small wooden house, by the shores of the Dal Lake , he quietly clambered onto his Shikara. It lay stuck in the frozen waters of the Dal Lake . A feet or so away, Asif saw some flickering water in the lake. He lazily stretched himself to get his little soft hands into the freezing water and splashed some across his face. The chillingly cold water hit him hard and he involuntarily shivered for a moment before he could be ready to hit the Dal Lake with his Shikara for another day of hard work.

Asif went inside the house to get the morning tea his mother would probably have prepared by now. Sipping in the tea, he went to one corner of the small bedroom that they had, to wake up his brothers and his lone sister, who was sleeping on the opposite corner of the room. It was certainly difficult for them to fit in all together, but they did not have any other choice.

It was Sunday, but it did not matter him. He never cared which day it was, for everyday seemed to be quite the same for him…getting up early in the morning…going to Rehman Sahib…uploading the vegetables on his barge and selling them all through the day and finally after sunset, returning home. He had been doing the same thing since he was nine years of age and now after doing the same thing for almost two years, he not only did excel in selling more vegetables, but also got his work done in a much lesser time…so he also fancied giving fared rides to people who wanted to cross the Dal Lake on his Shikara, which added to his side income. Asif’s father, Bilawal, had died nearly two years back in a terrorist explosion near the city’s Shalimar Gardens . Asif, eleven, was the eldest among the brothers and the little sister. He was now the only earning member and the family rested on his young shoulders. Even though he was only eleven, he could realize the uphill responsibility on his shoulders.

‘Bhaiya, how much would you bring back today?’ Tanvir, the youngest among the brothers asked Asif with his eyes shining…filled with sparkle of hope, a hope for a better and brighter tomorrow…

‘We shall thank him for whatever he brings for us; he works hard, ok Tanvir…’ Asif’s mother replied as she came in and sat down beside Salma, Asif’s sister.

‘And when I grow up, I will also work hard like bhaiya’ came in an inspiring comment from Bakhtawar, Asif’s second brother.

‘Yes, and then we will all live happily together…!’ Salma could not stop herself as the prospect of a brighter tomorrow slowly sank into her…

Asif looked at the hopeful faces of his brothers and his sister and felt a sudden impulse of the huge responsibility he was shouldering every moment. After about five minutes, he rose and kissing his mother on the cheeks, he turned around and left the house to get his Shikara out of the ice. He picked up a small piece of branch which lay quite close to where he stood. It might probably have broken off from the tree which grew by the sides of their makeshift household. Asif took the pointed side of the branch and began to strike the ice hard. It took him fifteen minutes of hard work to break off the ice and free his Shikara. He looked up to see the beautiful Dal lake, which was once a tourist spot filled with tourists twentyfour-seven, but now a mere onlooker to the high frequency of militancy which has grappled Kashmir for the last one and a half decades.

Asif slowly landed upon his Shikara, turned back and waved at his mother and set sail. His mother waved him back with mixed emotions of guilt, expectancy and prayers to Allah to keep her brave son well. Asif pushed harder and the Shikara had picked up some good speed by the time he reached the middle of the lake. The beautiful mountains of the Pirpanjal range and its valleys always overwhelmed Asif whenever he would cross the Lake . Today, like other days, Asif had to go to Rehman Sahib, upload the vegetables on his Shikara and sell them throughout the day and finally at sunset he had to go and give the income to Rehman sahib. Thereafter, Rehman Sahib returned a part of the income to Asif.

It was nearly six-thirty in the morning by the time Asif reached the shores of the Dal Lake where he was to upload the vegetables from Rehman Sahib. Rehman Sahib was a bit busy talking over his phone, so Asif decided to wait for some time before Rehman Sahib entrusts Asif with his mobile vegetable kiosk. Asif came off his Shikara and headed for the street along the shores of the Dal Lake where he could see Rehman Sahib standing. He walked leisurely and kept on looking here and there admiring the true beauty of God’s creation every moment as he kept on walking towards Rehman Sahib.

‘Good morning, beta Asif, how are you?’ Rehman Sahib proclaimed as soon as he saw Asif coming towards him. Asif’s father had worked for Rehman Sahib before he died, and so Rehman Sahib easily agreed for Asif to carry on his father’s job to support the young family.

‘Morning Sahib, I am fine…how are you?’ Asif replied wearing a broad smile on his face.

‘I am Ok’

‘Should I start putting them onto the Shikara?’

‘Oh! Yes, but just do me a favour before that, beta, can you get me a cigarette from the shop on the opposite footpath?’

‘Surely, Sahib, did you say that shop?’

‘Ah! Yes…’

‘All right!’

Rehman Sahib gave Asif the money and Asif quickly crossed the road. He slowed down about twenty meters from the shop. As he walked on, several thoughts crossed his mind…his memories of his father…the memories of his brothers, his cute sister, his loving mother…they all seemed so far away now…far away from the life he was leading…a hard life at the time when he should have been playing and enjoying his childhood with his brothers and his sister…

He ran down the last few meters and placed the order for the cigarette in the shop just as Rehman Sahib had instructed him to do.

Just as he turned around after placing the order, there was a deafening noise which came from somewhere to the right of where he was standing. Within moments he could see flames in the building right next to the one on the opposite side of the shop Asif was in. Asif trembled where he stood as he saw the building set ablaze. There was complete chaos everywhere. People started to run wherever they could. There was absolute insanity and psychosis among the people who seemed to run anywhere they could to save themselves.

Asif had never seen such a thing before. He looked around him and was completely flummoxed by what was going on. And suddenly, out of nowhere he heard bullet shots being fired at the masses. Army jeeps poured in from everywhere. The militants were firing from the building adjacent to the one where the explosion had taken place. There began a heavy exchange of firing from both sides. Asif glanced towards Rehman Sahib who had run to a shade by the shores to take shelter. There were still a lot of people who kept on running on the streets. Two army men were shot dead by the terrorists and the army was finding it very difficult in cornering them. The ambulances and fire tenders arrived shortly and the firemen began to douse the flames.

In the midst of the chaos, Asif quickly thought of getting to his Shikara. The firing was still on and several more men fell on the streets. Shops closed down and the army jeeps completely encircled the building which the terrorists had taken hostage. The fire was brought down pretty quickly but the terrorists could still not be captured. Asif came out of the shelter of the shop he had been in all this time and quickly ran to one of the Army jeeps. Evading notice, he quickly ran down the lane and jumped over the shades by the shore to get to Rehman Sahib.

His Shikara was still about forty yards from where they stood, so there was no chance he could get to his Shikara. The firing was still on and the bullets could easily reach the shores. He turned and peeped out of the shade to look at what was happening. He could still see the army men continuously firing at the same building. The intensity was increasing…and then another explosion and Asif was thrown off twenty yards away from where he stood. The terrorists had exploded yet another bomb and several other army men were thrown off in a similar fashion… Asif felt like a jolt and an agonizing pain at the back of his head. It was bleeding like anything. Rehman Sahib was also thrown away under of the impact and lay ten yards away from Asif, bleeding from his limbs.

The intensity of firing though was now decreasing…the army men could finally corner the militants…but Asif still lay on the shore bleeding profusely. He thought of all the good memories once again…his parents, his family…about all these years that he earned for the livelihood…the pain was increasing by the second and was becoming unbearable… Asif prayed one last time for his family…and then it all went dark.

horrifyingly dark.

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Asif was one among many such young children who had to face the direct and much dreaded consequences of our carelessness and stereotyped mindset of maladroit proclivity. Why is it that we humans always get reasons to play with the nature’s laws? 

Why is it that we humans, being the most developed species on the planet, cannot harbour harmony and peace within ourselves? 
Why can we not look at the world differently? 
Why is it that children like Asif have to pay the price of someone else’ fault in lieu of one’s life? 
Why can we not change destiny by our deeds? 
Why should we show acts of vendetta and retribution? 
Why? Why Terrorism?

These are questions we may never answer…because these are questions we do not have any answers to…questions we fail to answer. Because these are questions we FEAR to answer.
These questions, remain; UNANSWERED.