Abhilash Sharma
A beautiful autumn morning, Husna woke up. She rubbed her eyes and saw the sun glimmering through the curtains. She adjusted her quilt from which she didn’t want to come out. With her hands she pulled aside the curtain letting the sunlight fall on her face. Her face shone like a pearl! True to her name, she was beautiful. But more so, she was blessed with a bright mind. A mind that could differentiate between right and wrong, future and past, love and hate, justice and injustice, cause and politics. She dreamt with open eyes of a different life, a life devoid of hate, lies, felony, betrayal, suffering and blood. A life where people do not pelt stones on the ones protecting them, where people realize that the weight of future is always more than the weight of the past, where love and prosperity is shared faster than rumours and hatred.
She passed her secondary school examinations with flying colours. Against the wishes of her family, she applied for higher education in the national capital, Delhi. As deserving as she was, she was selected in the coveted Jamia Millia Islamia University, to pursue a course in tourism. Her dream of shaping the tourism industry of Kashmir was slowly creeping towards reality.
However, the same morning, her thoughts were disturbed by another reality. Reality of the present. The sound of loudspeaker blazing through the village, asking the ‘Awam’ to close their windows and doors. Also, asking a specific person to surrender to the security forces or else his life will be ended by a shower of bullets fired by the ones who swore to protect the citizens from external as well as internal aggression.
“What are you doing? Lie face down.” Zayn, her younger brother said in a firm voice. “Ammi and Abbu are safe downstairs, you keep your head down because it will be close.” Husna sensed something wrong. She asked, “How do you know it will be close?” Zayn mumbled, “I don’t know how these ‘kafirs’ came to know, he came so late at night”.
“Who?”. “Our brother”. “What brother? Whom are you talking about? Zayn tell me the truth.” Husna demanded. “Wani, Owais Wani. He returned from Pakistan recently and I met him last night. He is sacrificing for our cause. He is our brother. “ I have hidden him just two blocks away.” A shock wave spread through Husna’s spine. But before she could say anything, the sound of gun shots silenced her voice. Though she kept staring at Zayn with a blank look, her mind was full of scary thoughts. Amidst the sound of the gunfight which went on for two hours, she realized her brother was being pulled away slowly, towards a path which had only one thing at the end, the ‘end’ itself.
Days went by, and Husna kept trying. To bring her brother back, to prevent him from slipping into a well with no bottom. Her efforts were powerful, but so was the black magnet pulling her brother towards the opposite end. Finally the day came when she bid goodbye to her family for the National Capital. She went there with mixed feelings.
She was happy that her hard work had paid despite the tough competition, but on the other hand she was afraid for her brother. She had told Ammi and Abbu to keep a watch on him, but she wasn’t sure whether that ‘watch’ will be strong enough to keep her brother away from the ‘dirty’ game. Yet she continued her journey. She immersed herself in the knowledge that was up for offer in the ‘Big City’. As intelligent as she was, her performance was nothing less than outstanding in the course. So were her efforts towards self development, which resulted in a more confident, more capable, more determined and as beautiful as always Husna. She left the village with just a dream. Now she had come back with a tool to shape it into reality.
On 27 October, the day remembered as Black Day’ by a section of the ‘Awam’, Husna woke up. She adjusted her quilt from which she didn’t want to come out. With her hands she pulled aside the curtain letting the sunlight fall on her face and her face shone like a pearl. She could see outside her house, the village where she lived was a different world now. Her efforts were fruitful. Tourism had boomed so much in the State that not a single person remained without a job. There was something to do for everyone. No one slept hungry or without a warm quilt.
Love, happiness and prosperity. As she had dreamt. Suddenly the loudspeakers went blazing again. The villagers were being asked to close their doors and windows. Husna didn’t believe it at first. She thought the world had changed. She thought her life had changed. She rubbed her eyes again, and realized it was this time she had actually woken up. Keeping calm, she got up to close the windows.
“Leave it sister, and leave the house.” Zayn said from behind.
Husna turned back and a shock wave went through her spine again. This time the pain was much much stronger. Her eyes widened in fear. Her hands trembled. Zayn was holding an assault rifle in his hands. A black harness tied to his chest holding four magazines of the assault rifle and two hand grenades. His eyes had shades of vengeance. Husna stood there, incapable of doing or thinking anything. “Leave the house sister, the time has come. I will show these ‘kafirs’ what we are capable of. That we can fight for our freedom.” Zayn said in a loud voice.
Husna held back her emotions. She had become much stronger now. Her brother was as near to the well as he could ever be. Yet she decided, to save him. “Stop. Zayn. Put down the rifle.” Zayn was in denial. “I didn’t pick up this rifle to put it down sister.” He moved towards the window to push her aside and face his destiny. She held her ground. “And I didn’t love you like I did to see you die, Brother”. Her eyes were wet. Tears were rolling down her cheeks.
“The person who gave you this rifle, do you think he actually cares for your freedom, brother? You think this bloodbath will result in a solution? The freedom that you are fighting for, was already with you all your life.”
Her face was pleading to her brother. Zayn saw his sister and his entire life flashed before him. The way they both used to play together. The love and warmth of their parents. The happy memories that they cherish. “The person who gave you this rifle, do you think he actually cares for your freedom, brother? You think this bloodbath will result in a solution? The freedom that you are fighting for, was already with you all your life.” Husna’s words started to weaken his thoughts. Yet he was determined to not get swayed by the emotions. By this time, the sniper of the security forces was already pointing towards Zayn. The chamber loaded and the finger on the trigger. The only thing that came in between the bullet and Zayn was Husna. The forces knew who the girl was. They kept a track of everything happening in the village.
That is how they knew that this girl’s brother had intentions which needed to be ‘curbed’. All they were waiting for was for the innocent girl to move. Husna continued her efforts like she always did.
“Look at me Zayn. You think I will get freedom if you go away like this? You think my life will be better if I lose my family? You think I will continue to work hard if I lose the person I am working hard for? You think Ammi and Abbu will be happy after knowing that the person who was supposed to take care of them in their illness and old age, has died for the wrong cause? This ‘life’ is ‘freedom’ brother. Your breath is your freedom. Your family is your ‘freedom’. There is lot more freedom in this country than what you have been told. Brother. Your family is already free. It is you who needs freedom from the shackles of hatred.” Zayn was determined to fight but he had more love for his family than he had vengeance. His emotions began to overpower his thoughts. His grip on the rifle started to weaken a little. Husna gave her final words to him. “If you fire that rifle brother, the bullet will have to go through me. I don’t want to live in a world where my brother is not with me.” Zayn broke. His eyes burst into tears. The rifle dropped from his hands. His head fell on his sister’s shoulders. They both cried.
And the person who gave the rifle to Zayn, did not hear any gunshots that day. The forces announced that a newly recruited terrorist had surrendered after the persuasion of his family members yet again!
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