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Volume 2, No. 11 - April 2003 |
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The Day I Ceased
To Exist Hema Kalsi It has taken me twelve long years to figure out that I do not exist, my family does not exist, and my people do not exist. Since I do not exist my opinion of course does not count, nor the endless troubles my family must go through, nor the suffering of my people, for why should it when I do not exist!! Did they say this man had to hide from his neighbors, in a drum of rice in an attic, to be killed barbarically, splashed blood on the grains of rice his only witness? What was his crime? Did he say he wanted a promotion in his job or bonuses, did he say his son should get an admission that he so rightly deserved? Far from it, that was just too everyday a thing. No. He would not dream of laying a finger on anybody, could then definitely not have killed someone. Fate perhaps then... It was fate after all that caused people to move on when their dream job taken, well they may have been better at it but what does it matter,after all it is all in the hands of fate. If not in the setup one was born in one could shine wherever one is valued, so did so and so's son get a job in Delhi finally or so and so's daughter is finally getting her due, maybe so and so should also apply for a job somewhere else.. So year after year people would hit a bottle-neck, in getting jobs, getting admissions, getting promotions and they would move to other parts of the country. But that was temporary their home and hearth was in Kashmir, they belonged to Kashmir. Only they are not included in any headcounts. So let us just hand it to fate that we are but a handful of us, our multiplication rates lacking the speed and growth of some others. We do not grudge anybody anything, who are we to grudge, we have just gotten 'used to' the system, maybe 'used by' the system more often than less but that is us. We do not shed tears anymore, our insides perhaps have dried by now and then what should one cry for anymore. Our homes have been burnt, if not burnt then plundered, we are far away from where we belonged, we have left behind the land of our ancestors and our livelihood. The earth we played on and ploughed is no more ours. We are drifting and our numbers dwindling further, for how many of us can stand the winters and summers and brave the cold and heat in these torn tents and make shift rooms and we were 'use to' swaying trees' and airy houses. So there are more dying than born. The only reason we lived anyway was, that someday we would go back! Now they talk of plebiscites and the fairness of it all. We are not counted anymore, BBC and the like talk of Ladhaki's wanting to be with India, Jammuites wanting to be with India, and the Muslims in the valley wavering between independence and Pakistan. We are not counted anymore!! We the original inhabitants of Kashmir do not count!! We died back in '89/90 even when the terrorists, some of who are now named with respect, could not get and do a mass murder at one go. We were wrong all along when we thought that the world listens to honest plea's, they only respond to the resounding sound of guns and terror!! So there you go, if you are quiet, if you can't kill, then you deserve it and more, consider yourself dead. No more grieving, anyone. |
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