The sky was gloomy just like him. He was walking without knowing where he was going. The instinctive walk took him to the park where he had spent most of his childhood. He sat on the very familiar bench and closed his now red with rage eyes and let his mind free to float anywhere. 

“Casey, come here, time to go!!” A very sad yet beautiful voice forced him to open his eyes and turn around to saw the owner of such a beautiful voice. Unfortunately she had her back towards him so all he could feast his eyes upon were the silky flawless jet black hair. Not being able to see the face, he started imagining her features and doing justice with her sad melodic voice. He started with her eyes and thought that if they were to be black then it would be like plunging into the deepest black ocean from which you cannot come out. Another thought crossed his mind and he thought what if they were to be brown?  His mind answered then it would be like staring into smooth and fathomless wells, filled by the echoes of thoughts as they climb to the surface. Another tickle of mind and it hit him what if they were to be blue, what then? The answer was as quick as was the tickle then they would be like drops of ink;carelessly dropped in the rush of the writer to finish that urgent love letter of face.  And if they were to be green then staring into them would be like watching grass popping out of snow sodden ground. 
As he was searching for more apt similes  to imagine her unseen eyes, she stood up,  popped open her purse, drew out black glasses, unfolded her walking stick, grabbed Casey’s hand and trodded her way.



“firing in kashmir valley, 40 terrorist killed, 6 soldiers martyred”
I’ve grown up seeing these type of headings, even when i didn’t understand a single thing about politics, i used to wonder, isn’t it wrong to kill? And why the soldier is “martyred” and terrorist is “killed”, even when both of them eventually took human life?
And then eventually between these type of headings, i grew up!!
Let’s head back to starting, to the independence year, 1947! Raja Hari singh was the ruler of kashmir at that moment, and he signed a” PROVISIONAL” accession pact with india to secure the free will of kashmir from the invading rebels led by pakistani troops.The term “provisional” meant that when the conditions were peaceful, people of kashmir will decide whether to stay with india or not! Also,along this road somewhere,” azad kashmiri army” was formulated which was a group of people from kashmir who wanted to liberate kashmir from army by force, so they were regarded as “terrorists”.
Then in 1948, UN passed the verdict on kashmir issue stating that will of kashmiri people should be ascertained and that it will be decided by a plebiscite and that both the countries india and pakistan should withdraw their armies from the kashmir so it could be done in peaceful manner. But the fact whether “azad kashmiri army” should also be ripped or not led to the rise of conflict and neither of the country backed down their military, and eventually the right of people of kashmir was lost, lost in the egos of two countries. It was not only the right that lost but many lives were also lost too, precious human life whether be it indian soldier who was “martyred” or some kashmiri militant/terrorist who was “killed” but the loss of life did occur that too great many number of times!
If the whole population of a particular area believe in something then it is termed as “nationalism”, we believed it when we took freedom from britishers, now majority of kashmiris believe in “azad kashmir” then why is it terrorism? Well, it is terrorism to us but to them its the “sarfaroshi ki tamanna” so they won’t stop just like we never did no matter how much we lost.
Is the ego of two countries greater than the human life??
The brave indian soldiers that are dying with their head held high with pride are fighting for their country, for the thing that they believe in is true, the terrorist kashmiri militant are dying for what they believe is true, so why is an indian soldier “martyred” and a kashmiri militant is “killed”?
Why am i writing this? Well, my big brother used to recite a poem to me, which i never understood until now, here it goes,
First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

So if we/i do not speak now then eventually there’ll be no one to speak for me when they come for me, and they will come for me, cause it is a part of evolution, majority community always dominates minority community.

Silent Cupboard

For everyone it was just an old fashioned cupboard carved in wall some 50 years ago. But not for me, for me it was a portal, portal to infinite moments it had witnessed and kept them hidden in itself. For me it was a box, may be pandora’s, filled with memories some bitter some sweet.ancient-cabinet-thailand-style-in-background-of-white-wall-with-copy-eagrgt

I thought of all the farewells it might have witnessed, of all the hugs it might have seen, all the heart ache’s it might have had the displeasure to see and save in itself.                         I wondered what it would say if it could speak. Whether it would laugh or weep? or maybe it would tell us about all the books which once were its best of buddies. I wonder how many people, it might have seen come and go and how many of them would have even noticed it. It was a wormhole to another dimension, a dimension where there were secrets kept secret from decades, where there were tears of failed love stories, where there were carefree laughs with friends, where there were first kisses of those once young and in love, hidden away from plain sight. A dimension i would very much like to visit. Then i wondered everything has some story to tell, some complains to make but sadly, most of them can not do it.
Suddenly the bell rang and everyone hushed out of that old giant classroom………