I am Born.... Yet Again

Yeeeee finally its 6th. The breath holding, shuddering goosebumps out of frenzy, the anxiety, the feel that takes you to the top of this world is finally here....Oh!!!! the clock has just ticked. Its 12.00 a.m.... I am born. Happy birthday to me...
Ahhh.. whom am I kidding? It's nothing like this. NO goosebumps, no birthday bumps, no breath taking moments, no rainbow colored gift packs... Its just another day, nothing being special about it. I continue being nocturnal sitting in front of my computer waiting for my unlimited download to begin, writing this blog to kill my time till 2.00 a.m.
After 22 years of this yearly ritual there seems no charm to it. Every body including me is so used to it that this day seems to be lost amongst the 364+1 days of the year. A lot of people posted on my wall saying 'Happy Birth Day Ande', but now its tough to find a reason to be happy about this day. All grown ups are like this and probably I should feel happy for not being happy as this makes me one of them.
Retrospecting the past year of my life, there again seems no hope of being happy or celebrating blithely. There is yet another twist in dis limerick: there is a complete session every year where I sit quietly in my room making resolutions for the new year of my life. And now today when I tried, I found myself laughing at a series of broken rules, guidelines and committed peccadilloes and finally I renounced the procedure farcical. But still I found a reason to laugh so I should be happy for this.
I am not writing this because I have a grudge against the things that have changed the proclivity of this day but to express that things change and you have to change with them... Probably people who wished me at 12.00 a.m last year will call me today before 12.00 p.m and next year will send a card adding belated to their wishes but this will give me a complete year to prepare myself for the change, to grow and to find other reasons to be Happy on my Birth Day.

'Mother I will make you cry today'

Last week, 30th June marked yet another tragic event in the golden history of our motherland. Asif Rather, aged nine ran out of his home in Baramulla district in search of his elder brother but unfortunately instead of finding his brother, he found himself lacerated by a bullet fired by securitymen tearing his tender flesh and ripping him into pieces... Ironically this event couldn't even find a place in the newspaper let alone the T.V channels. How I come to know about this turpitude is again strikinglly shameful: a poem written by a member of planning commission in the 19th page of a national daily and that too after 4 days of the incident.
He was looking for Tauqeer his pal of all times, standing confused and afraid, away form his Maa, in the middle of a jungle of strangers with long legs where only this tiny little creature unfortunately met his inevitable fate but the question comes forth us: for how long we will blame fate and fortune for all these?
‘Gar firdaus, ruhe zamin ast, hamin asto, hamin asto, hamin asto", said Jahangir, but what have we made out of this heaven on earth? An innocent 9 year old falling victim to a bullet fired by his own countrymen and this is not just a boy, there have been thousands of Asif Rather killed in this bestiality in past and GOD only knows how many more. There seems to be no end to it. There once used to be love in the air, now there are bullets. The valley used to be a rainbow once, now its painted red. Mist used to be the cover of the night above the Dal, now there are fumes and flames allover.
As his blood runs cold on the streets of Baramulla the seven lines of Quran's first surah, echo in the sinews of our mind....
'Mother I will make you cry today'.....
"How many mothers of my Kashmir, the place where I was born, will cry today? Will cry tomorrow"? Asks the writer of that touching poem.


P.S: This post is dedicated to all those who have lost their life in the fiasco of Kashmir, who are fighting their days to live in that heaven where the phrase, safe haven has no meaning. It is a post dedicated to kashmiriyat, azadi, kaum and deshbhakti.