Haider: Watching Kashmir Through a Broken Lens

The legendary Shammi Kapoor rendering the famous “Tareef karun kya uski” sung by another legend- Md. Rafi, the beautiful Sharmila Tagore clad in a phirin against the backdrop of a serene and heavenly place (From the movie Kashmir Ki Kali). That was my first and lasting impression of Kashmir. The many Bollywood movies churned one after another with scenes of a sparkling Jhelum, the calm Dal Lake and a singing valley glorified that impression to an even greater extent. That was. . . That was until recently, when I happened to watch the movie Haider by Vishal Bharadwaj, an adaptation of Shakespeare’s Hamlet set against the backdrop of a 1995 conflict- ridden Kashmir. Written by Basharat Peer, the movie captures the intense human emotions and conflicts within along with the external conflicts.

The Sparkling Jhelum I had seen suddenly turned into a stinking, watery death; the songs of the valley that reverberated in my mind turned into screams of innocent people being held prisoners and tortured; the beautiful women were suddenly ‘half widows’, even the snow laden peaks that seemed so inviting loomed like an impending catastrophe.

The movie is so powerful, it can make anyone with a heart cry. The characters have been sketched so well, the scenes are so captivating and the performances just blend in with the characters.

For the first time, the Indian Cinema has shown us the real picture of the state hidden behind its alluring persona and it is a painful one. That Kashmir which is often called ‘paradise on earth’ has come to this is a very hurtful thought and I wish it was just a movie. Sadly, I came to know through the media that this is the bitter truth and Kashmir still lives in fear, its flowers still are afraid to bloom, its water still stinks of death, its songs still are the bombs that are dropped every now and then and its women still those ‘half widows’.

I wonder when will Kashmir be that Kashmir again and when will we watch “Tareef Karun kya uski” with the genuine feeling of “wow, this is the real Kashmir” against the backdrop of a sparkling Jhelum and a colorful valley with laughing dimpled girls yet again?? 

A Lesson Learnt After Falling Ill

“A friend in need is a friend indeed”I've always known this quote as a cliche that I forever wanted to avoid. But today, being discharged from the hospital after four longest days, I can really feel the truth of these words weighing in on me. Being diagnosed with “severe iron deficiency anemia”, I needed blood transfusion (as well as scary process of investigations as to why Hemoglobin is so low). As known to everyone, if you take blood from the blood bank, you've got to give back. My dad, being diabetic and my mum an’ sis anemic, none of them could donate blood. I had no option other than sending out an SOS to all my contacts. But that day, I cried... I cried my heart out, for, the people I’d expected would reply with at least a “What happened? All fine?” did not.
Here I would like to mention Priya Dash, my bestest buddy who has always been there for me and whose parents offered to donate blood for me. She has been calling me every day since I took ill and although, she isn't physically present all the time, she never ever lets me feel the same.
I would also like to thank my teachers +Anees Ahmad sir and Pushpa chauhan ma’am who offered their full support and acted as pillars of strength, helping me to tide over earlier than it would have taken me.Also Rohini ma’am, +Gursimran Kaur ma’am and Bindoo Gupta ma’am were great sources of help who didn't forget that their student was in need of some light in her dark days.
Special mention to Afreen Khusru as well, who assured me that her Dad could help, if need be and offered her good wishes.Last but definitely not the least, thanks to Saba, Sara, Sana and Yashi, who despite being a bit late, called nevertheless to inquire and give their “Get Well Soon” message.
But yes, being ill taught me to never expect things from anyone and always be gratuitous to the ones who are “friends indeed”And yeah, this quote seems to fit.

A Daughter’s Lament

When I wake up from my dreams

I don’t want to see the ceiling and the fan

But you, oh mother!

I want to breathe in that scent of yours

I want to hear the thump of your heart

I want to feel your sighing breath

Waking up from a deep slumber

Time and again when I realize

That it’s not your soft lap but my bed

On which I closed my eyes and dreamt of you

Oh mother! Can you understand my pain and agony

Of growing up to an age whence

I can no longer fit into your lap

How nice were those good ol’ days

When you would pat me to sleep singing a lullaby

When you would run after me so that I don’t fall

When you held my hand and made me write my first alphabet

When you would pull back my hair into a little ponytail

People fantasize of growing up and big

But Oh mother! My fantasy is to lie

In your lap and close my eyes

Never to grow up again in my life