Sep 21, 2015

Two Bloody Shrouds

Two different killings and two bloody shrouds. Same fateful story and same destination. 

Two weeks after the three year old Syrian boy, Alan, drowned into the Mediterranean Sea while pursuing his survival, another 3 years old toddler succumbed to the unknown bullets for the sins of his ill-fate in another part of a doomed world called Kashmir. 

Alan who was born as a commoner died as a hero. Syrian crisis could not melt any hearts around but the heart-wrenching picture of little Alan’s cadaver triggered a revolution, awakening the world in slumber. He left for abode but created a space for his compatriots into the hearts of the millions worldwide. Even the kings opened the doors of their rusty mansions for the poor refugees as their hearts melted watching Alan’s dead body snuggled silently on the sea shore. 

In another part of the world, another innocent soul departed but without much uproar. Perhaps the mornings of his poor mother could not cross the borders fettered with a propaganda.  Young Burhan, also 3 years old, was killed while toddling with his father. The father-son duo were fired at and killed by “unknown gunmen” for the fault unknown to young Burhan. 

After the death of Burhan, people in Kashmir started comparing the two deaths, seeking answers for how is Burhan different from Alan. Alan’s death could stir many hearts but poor burhan’s name got buried along with his little cadaver.

Both the deaths are equally unfortunate and to be lamented equally. Both have been murdered for wrong reasons. Both are the children of conflict. Both share a common story. Both share an ill-fate.

I could not feel the cries of Alan while he was struggling with the Mediterranean waves. But my heart wailed at his death. Burhan’s death was more familiar. My ears are already aware of his sobbing. My childhood has already introduced that ill-fate to me. My eyes have detested all the tribulations to shed those tears of sorrow. My ears have ached enough against the deafening roar of the “unknown” guns.   

I had pledged to tear myself apart from whatever keeps happening back in Kashmir Valley that adds to my trauma. Although my heart and soul lives there, I decided to keep my focus entirely on something more meaningful. But the never ending tribulations drags you right back into the mess. There is no escaping to this. There is no abatement to this pain. There is no escaping to this ill fate with which I was born.

The question remains: Where are we heading? What is the fault of young innocent kids into this proxy wars of greed and hatred? How many more Alans and Burhaans are to be sacrificed to make us comprehend and introspect. These children of conflict also deserve to live and breathe in free air like any other child does.  Are they child of a lesser God?

Alan and Burhan are not alone. They have joined the league of their young compatriots – Samir Rah ,Tufail Matoo and many others who have been martyred young for no reasons. They are all together now in heaven, perhaps seeking reasons for their murder.

Alan And Burhaan in Heaven.....

Alan: Samundhar mera qatil nahi..Mera mujrim to koi aur hai..

Burhaan: Mera gunah kya mera qasor kya.. Mere ilm mei ghumnaam hai..

Alan:Meri zindagi kangaal thi..Meri mout to mashroor hai..

Burhaan:Meri Zindagi badh naam thi.. Meri maut bhi badh naam hai..

God: Tum maqtool ho Tum shaheed ho.Tumhara Qasoor to Tumhara naseeb hai!!