“Where are you going from middle of the class?”
“Sir, I was thinking to go home. I ain’t feeling good.” Radhika told a plain lie.
“What happened to you?” Abdul sir asked her with a puzzled face.
“You were good in previous class. I think you are taking upcoming debate lightly.”
“Oh, that Kashmir- Liberation from opperssion. I am upto it. Don’t worry.” She looked so confident.
“Ok go but how will you go.?”
Kashmir College of Arts was far away from Daroja. It took 1 hour to come for Radhika. But she did come, everyday.
“I called home for car.”
She went off from the class. Actually, she was not going home. She was going to pick Rafiq, his best friend. After all he was coming with all statics of her video. She was ready to compile a new song with him. However, Rafiq didn’t know much about camera but for his Aka, he had to do it.
She was about to enter into her car, suddenly she heard some argument coming from outside of the college gate.
“Uncle, give me a minute.” She told her car driver and moved forward to see.
She saw a 8 years old girl was arguing with some boys where like 16-18 years. She saw boys pushed her a side after some seconds.
“Hey, stop it guys. What is going on there?”
She saw boys ran out from there. She went to the girl and patted on her shoulder.
“They were telling me to pelt stone over there.” She directed towards her Radhika’s car.
“why?” She was astonished. Why someone would do this.
“I don’t know. They hit me after I told no.”
“Okay go home now. Should I drop you?”
“No, I can go by myself.”
Radhika sat inside her car on driver’s seat and told her driver to sit beside her. She wanted to drive. But still she had the question- why on my car?
Finally, she reached at her destination, the Daroja bus stand.
“Hello, where are you dog?”
“I am about to reach.”
“I am waiting at stand now. Hurry up.”
Now, she took out her notepad and wrote- ‘Liberation from oppression’.
Kashmir is our home. Kashmir is in our soul. Other than Insaniyat (humanity), Kashmiriyat is what we have got. We have seen slavery, we have seen atrocities, we have seen murders. Now we need Salvation. We are on the verge of becoming a body with soul. Without Kashmir, we are nothing. I, myself Radhika Mirza..
“Rafiq, you dog.” She ran towards him to hug him so tight. After a long period of time, she felt presence of a human. She was enjoying the moment. She didn’t want to let him go. She was with him now. Her best friend.
‘Amma, I love you this much.’ Pradhyut hugged her mother.
Today, Jayanthi Rangnathan was so proud of her son. He finally recruited in Madras Regiment. This was his last day with her and he didn’t want to leave her. She cooked his favorite dosa with tamarind soaked sambhar, his son’s favourite.
“Jaya, our baby would become a great person.” Raman was caressing Jayathi’s head.
“What we are going to name him? A great person?”, Jayathi giggled on Raman’s words.
‘Pradhyut Jayathiraman- Son of Jayathi and Raman.
‘Amma, bye bye’, Pradhyut screaming at his loudest. His heart was screaming too- Mother, don’t let me go.
He sat down on his seat in train which was going straight to Kashmir. His first posting was in Kashmir. He checked his bag for his camera. He didn’t want to lose it as it was given by his beloved mother.
‘Buddy, you got a DSLR?’ one of the batchmate asked him.
‘Yeah, I love to take pictures.’ He replied.
‘Yeah, you can take pictures of rotten bodies of traitors.’ He started laguhing in so scary manner.
‘Why are you saying like this?’
‘So what should I say? You are not going for some fucking honeymoon with your wife, you Southy.’ He started bullied him now.
Pradhyut didn’t try to reply him back because he was used to these kind of comments. He knew they were jealous from his DSLR. He changed his seat as he couldn’t change his coach.
HIs train was 5 hours late. At last, train started to rolling and running slowly on tracks. He started looking outside. He wanted to look at the beautiful city as he never got a chance to saw it. It was really beautiful and now it was making hard for him to leave it behind.
‘What Madras battalion says- Veera Madrasi, adi kollu, adi kollu (brave Madrasi, hit and kill, hit and kill)’. He was remebering his mother. She was more than a mother. She was a battalion in herself actually.
She was in love with her nation that if war happens she could alone kill everyone. But still everyone mocks me and her by calling southy.
He got tears in his eyes by imagining his mother alone in home.
He couldn’t help this. Now it’s late.
‘You are looking beautiful like Radha in the picture’, Her mother blessed her.
‘Mom, this is not so cool. I like Rihanna more’, she gave her mother a sad face. Radhika was a hardcore fan of Rihanna and Sia as they both were the famous pop-stars and feminists.
‘I hate this Rihanna or Miohanna’, her mother didn’t want her daughter to become like Rihanna.
Radhika wanted to become a singer but for fulfilling her singing dreams, she had to get out of Daroja. She couldn’t get a chance to show her talent even for once.
In few ceremonies, she got the chance to sing but still not her favourite Rihanna, just one or two chessy Bollywood songs.
“When the time will come for me too?” She always used to ask this question to herself while practising.
Daroja was not a big place to fulfill her big dreams but still Daroja had got a heart. People used to compliment Radhika because of her singing and her thought provoking speeches. She was a speaker in her town.
She loved her Daroja but still she wanted to go some other place.
“When you are coming”?
“I am at the station only and waiting for this trash train.”
“But, you will get late. Your Ammi will get worry.”
“No, she will not. I didn’t tell him about my coming.”
“But, I told her”. She giggled and ruined his dreams.
“You bitch, I shouldn’t have told you about anything.”
“You dog, Just come home and giver her a surprise.”
She didn’t tell anyone about Rafiq’s coming home. He was her best friend like Krishna with Sudama. They knew each other since their childhood. She was eagerly waiting for him to come so that she could sing a new song in front of him.
He uploaded her songs on youtube because in Daroja internet connectivity was not available regularly. But, it didn’t lessen her courage to move further and further.
‘Get up and don’t waste your time’, she yelled at Pradhyut.
‘Amma, just two minutes’, he begged to her.
‘No means no. Get up and go for your daily running. How would you participate in upcoming recruitment?’, she snarled and put a bowl of water on his face.
He had to wake up at 4am daily for running. Since his childhood, his mother dreamt of him in Army offficer dress with at least 10 medals pinned on his dress.
She did everything to get him ready for her beloved nation. She had been living in Delhi since 1999 when Pradhyut was about to born. His father died after his birth in Tamil. He never got to know his father but he knew his mother was not only a mother but also a father.
Pradhyut was going to leave her in 7-8 months. She was prepared for that.
‘Amma, today I met a guy. He was a photographer. I loved his camera’, he gave his mother a sly look.
‘You want a camera?’ she asked calmly.
She knew his love for pictures and DSLR. He was so sensitive and so humane inside. She was afraid for him sometimes.
“How would he go for a war?”
“Would he be able to kill anyone if time comes?”
“Not everyone is a beast if he/she pick gun in hands.” She gave herself a nod.
She was going to buy a DSLR for Pradhyut. After all he came first in his parade. Soon, he would be in army dress.
The train- 1
The train was 5 hours late from its scheduled timing.
Rafiq was imagining how would he surprise ‘ammi’.
Rafiq was going home and he had got a foolproof plan to give a surprise to ammi.
“Why trains don’t come on time?”, he murmured.
Before 5 years, he came to Delhi.
But for him, Kashmir was his home, ever and forever.
So many eyes were scanning him. When he was coming inside the station, the police guard took him as a foreigner. Rafiq told him that he was a Kashmiri.
“Oh, Kashmiri! What? Muslim?”, police asked him.
‘Yes, Rafiq Adzan.’
‘Are you a pathan?’
‘No, I am kashur.’
The officer passed a smile and let him go inside the station.
That officer was very modest otherwise Rafiq always had to passed the security test for twice.
He never liked this doubly checked system. He was not more than 21 years old and always stood up whenever national anthem played, even inside the movie hall. He didn’t know why people react so differently to him.
“Train no-12***7 has been 5 hours late from its scheduled time.”
He was waiting inside the 1st class waiting room.
He was gritting his teeth and swearing the train. He took out a book and started swapping the pages.
“I am telling you I have no hunger.”
A boy was snarling at his mother in the waiting room corner.
“Beta, eat it”, mother insisted him.
The 10 year old ignored his mother and kept looking at his IPad.
Rafiq remembered the day when he was leaving Daroja for the first time (he was only 16 at that time). He never wanted to leave that heaven but he had to. The hilly terrain, the sweet smelling streets and Ammi.
Rafiq smiled as he remembered the same insisting from his mother when he was leaving for Delhi.
He had to leave the place just for the sake of his study. He was the topper of his school and secured 93 percent in 10th in J&K boards. Finding CBSE school in Daroja so tough because there were very few ones opened.
Ammi was so happy by sending him so far from home. He knew why but he still wanted to go back to Daroja.
It’s a high time
don’t talk about love and grief
No place of shame and strife
talk about blood and rape
give me some savage tips
talk about mindless jobs
Let’s do hunting
let’s go in pack to tear her apart
Stop that right now because
It’s a high time
don’t talk about saving us
No place to hide and run
talk about blood and rape
I will hunt you down
let’s do violence
let’s do hunting
let’s go in pack to tear them apart
You are a vulnerable thing
see your rosy lips and
now its time for your cheesy butts
I will devour every part
till it contains soul
let’s do hunting together
you are pretty in your panty
and in diapers
and in womb too
Stop that right now because
it’s a high time for us to
bear your wrath
don’t think of afraid version of me
your 5 inch manhood
is in my hand with a fork
looking like a bacon
Come here and snatch it
you useless rabid dog,
This is my rosy lips,
my cheesy butts,
my panty my bra and my blood soaked pads
Watch it till it ends
and I am NO more a prey
I am not your Durga not your kali
I am a woman
Admit it or shove it into your ass
Because it’s a high time to
watch your sins
It’s a high time.