Jayaz

1

Blossoms! 

That's what used to describe Kashmir once upon a time. The frosty sky with specs of cloud for the summer , the valley glimmering with beds of blossoms, until the weather gave rise to toasty winters, chilly and freezing when the mountains gets covered with thick snows to cover up the same flower beds till the next spring.

Kashmir was a paradise!

Until people destroyed it all. People and… hatred. The hatred for humanity, the hatred in differentiation and the hatred for acceptance. ber the

Kashmir was a paradise!

Until people destroyed it all. People and… hatred. The hatred for humanity, the hatred in differentiation and the hatred for acceptance. Kashmir couldn't accept it's fate that was brought upon them by force. Kashmir wanted to merge with Pakistan. While the beautiful, picturesque valleys compelled them to include it in the Indian subcontinent. 

What Kashmir failed to realise that india, Pakistan, they were mere lands. Driven by the people running the administration. Neither was Pakistan very humble towards Kashmir, nkr was india very meticulous about the valley. 

Kashmir remained secluded. Article 370 had kept Kashmir aloof from everyone , making it a hot target for bloodbath. 

Blood! The once gateway to paradise was now bathing in blood. Blossoms, that's what used to describe Kashmir once upon a time. Now, it's just bloodbath that remained, tainting the valley endlessly decades after decades. 

Shehnaaz was lost into the pages of her notebook, scribbling notes on the history of Kashmir then and now when a screeching sound of the chair being pulled scraped her mind away

" Ya khudaya Ruhi, can't you be a little silent and discreet! This is the library if you can remember. " She said, eyes still engrossed into her notebook, only the mind had deviated to know whom it was on the other side.

" Don't you get bored with these books the whole day! Yaar jawani wapas nahi ane waali hai. Can't you just skip the lanes of the books and enjoy life a little? "   Ruhi said, exasperated. She would be flabbergasted with her friend's dedication towards books.

Shehnaaz rolled her eyes, but never stopped once to deviate her eyes from what she was doing.

" Naaz yaar, tumse keh rahi hu. Allah thoda toh attention do. " Ruhi gasped. Shehnaaz loved books. She lived and breathed the pages of the same. If Obsession had a concrete definition, it would be Shehnaaz's limerance for books. Ruhi would often find it a little irritating. While Shehnaaz would be lost in books the whole day, Ruhi would writhe to get the attention of her oy friend to spare her a little time.

Her only friend, yes.. Kashmir wasn't a place where people gave importance to friendship. Hatred and carnage was all that was left of Kashmir now a days.

" What is it Ruh. I need to complete this right. You know this is my chance to live upto my dream. Agar ye article accept ho gayi, I have a fair chance for a full time journalism ahead in the future. Warna ghar wale.... You know they would never approve me of doing something as crazy as this. " She said, shutting down her notebook. There was a open entry competition going round by a well known newspaper to accept articles from outsources. Shehnaaz had cleared the first two rounds. They were easy, just checking in grammer and english for the articles they wrote. This was the tougher hurdle. To pen down emotions for a topic they had chosen.

Shehnaaz chose Kashmir!

There were lots to be penned down about the place, her birth place . Not the picturesque valley, but the brutality behind it. The beauty was a facade. The ugly facet of hatred and battues and pogrom that laid beneath that superficial layer was their reality. And Shehnaaz chose to pen down and demask the facade. People needed to know the truth.