A Letter to (Kashmiri) Mother

Asalam u alykum!

Mother, I know when you find this letter the least you will expect it to be is one that of a final goodbye. But it’s more than that. Gather all your courage and read the letter aloud, if you can’t read it in your heart and imagine your beloved talking to you.

Even though I am too young but it seems that I have spent a millennium in this forsaken land what we call Kashmir. I have seen my brothers beaten to death, my sisters molested and our elders humiliated every single day and now it’s impossible to take any more of this. I am tired of staring at the helpless boy in the mirror. I am tired of convincing my self that everything will be alright and I am tired of accepting the grave truth that i can’t do anything about it. Not anymore mother.

Father had told me once that Kashmiri’s might loose everything but we won’t loose our self respect, never ever. I believe in every single word of what he said and I am no way in this life, willing to loose it. So I have decided to fight. I know people will blame me for doing it for money; they will call me a miscreant, an agitational terrorist, lunatic, and what not. But you tell them who i am, a martyr. Tell them your son was too proud to run away.

 My loved friends have already departed. They come in my dreams everyday and ask me that if I am fighting for them. I am tired of saying no to them. The stare at me with those blue eyes and hope that what they have laid their life for will come but how can I give them an answer when all I do is weep in my bed and watch as more of us fall. I want to smile back at them and say I am fighting. I want to tell them that I don’t know if we will get what we want but yes we will not stop trying. I will not stop trying. I want to tell them not until the very last Kashmiri falls this will go on even to the last breath and maybe afterwards.

 Mother some may say it is  madness to fight for our blood, but if fighting against the agony of people is called madness, tell, them your son was the maddest person they will ever come across and so are the thousands who fell. I might not be a good son and I am not able to give you the happiness of what a well educated son with a classy job can give, but I will give you one thing, the happiness of knowing your son was brave and just. I can give you the moment after which you will hold you head high.

 Its said best thing that you can do for evil to prevail is to keep silent and mother I won’t be silent, we won’t be silent, not anymore. We will yell at the top of our voices, we will yell till the souls of our enemies are moved, we will yell till every human ear hears us we will yell so that our voices echo forever.

Too much explaining has been done by now. There were few things I want to tell you. First being- if my little sister asks where her brother is tell her I am watching her from above. Father might  be saddened and when he does tell him that  he is a father of a brave lad, give him strength, if my grandmother’s heart irks tell her that it will hurt me more to see her like this, tell her to be happy that she has seen a generation awaken. Give all my little brothers and sisters’ examples of what we have accomplished. Tell our people not to waste our blood. Pray to God to give strength to us especially to those who have lost their young ones.

And for you mother I have not much to say but just a few things I would like you to do. Don’t   see me when they bring me on their shoulders. I want you to remember my smile even though in a place like Kashmir it was rare to see. Do not weep when I am being taken to my grave because your tears might weaken my fellow brothers. Do not wonder that was I in pain when I was hit because this pain is nothing compared to what we have experienced. Mother I know you will have no one to feed from your warm hands, I know you will have no one to wake forcefully to go to school and you will have no one to wait for after the sun sets. No one will sleep in your lap nor will have no one to flaunt and you wont have a strong hand for your old days. But you will have pride. I am sorry for depriving you from all the things you had wished for me but remember I am gone for a greater good, a glorious cause. And I will not apologize for the path I choose and I expect the same kind of understanding from you because after all it is your upbringing that has made me think in a righteous way. Tell yourself, my son was just like the others who fell along the way and he wasn’t special then the rest of them even if I meant everything to you.

Make an example out of me and make sure that my fall is not the end but a beginning of an era where we live happily for ever. Make sure that my sacrifice isn’t wasted and it serves as oil to the burning flame that has been lit now. And pray to the One that our aspirations and our dreams come true. I know when this happens there will be no difference left in both the heavens- the one above and the one on earth.

With love

(An imaginary letter on behalf of those who couldn’t speak the last words to their mothers )