Much has been said about the Kashmr issue since protests started to rock Jammu and the Kashmir valley. Many commentators have offered ways to resolve the crisis and not all agree with the official line on Jammu and Kashmir. Such a wealth of diverse wealth is welcome and we may thank our democracy for it. However, we ought to remember that Kashmir is a complex problem that dates backs to 1947 and no one has yet found a ready made solution. Yes, the temptation to get over, at any cost, a dispute that has consumed so much in time, money and lives is high in the country. But overly simple problems without resolving old ones. Issues have gone beyond the Amarnath land controversy.
What are the proposals suggested to resolve the Kashmir issue? One, Kashmiris are alienated from the Indian state and want to join Pakistan. So let them go. Two,Kashmiris are a pampered lot and the mass protests in the valley are a threat to the territorial integrity of India. The protests should be crushed and Article 370, which provides social status to Jammu and Kashmir, withdrawn to integrate the state with the rest of India. Third, we must recognize the Kashmiri sentiment of alienation and negotiate with all groups , including separatist ones, on a platform of autonomy to the state.
To examine the first proposal, the UN resolution calling for a pelbiscite in Kashmir to decide its accession to India or Pakistan in effect rules out the option of an independent Kashmir. A plebiscite is possible only if India and Pakistan both withdrw their armies from the region. That's unlikely to happen at this point. True, separatists in Kashmir are supported by Pakistan. But Islamabad's vision of 'azadi' for Kashmir doesn't include an independent Kashmiri nation but mere integration of the region with the Pakistani state that is called Azad Kashmir. Various surveys, such as the one carried by outlook magazine in 1995, suggest that a merger with Pakistan
is not a preferred option in the valley. Moreover, at the core of the pro-pakistan argument is the view of India as Hindu state. It rejects the notion of a ecular India and argues that religion ought to be the foundation for a nation. According to this view, Pakistan is the destined home for the subcontinent's Muslims. The Kashmir valley has a muslim majority ; ergo, give it to Pakistan.
However, another partition on the basis of religion might sharpen the communal divide in this country
India is home to more than 150 million muslims and less than five million of them live in Kashmir. The rest are not asking for a separate nation; by and large, they are as contented in India , warts and all, as the other communities of this nation are. But any further territorial realignment on the basis of religion might open old wounds.
The main target of the integrationist politics of right wing politicians is Article 370. They want the article to be withdrawn. This is impractical. Article 370 is an article of faith born out of the terms under which jammu and kashmir joined the Indian Union. It is more than a legal clause that determines relations between Srinagar and New Delhi. The controversial provision is loaded with symbolism and tampering with it only will only strengthen the separatist argument that Hindu India wants to dilute the unique character of Kashmir. Clearly, the Han Chinese model of national integration practised in Beijing by Tibet is not an option that can be supported, for moral and practical considerations, by those who want a genuine resolution of the dispute.
That leaves us with the autonomy option. This seems to be the only feasible solution at the moment. Article 370 can be the foundation to restructure autonomy of Kashmir. Sections of the separatist leadership in Kashmir have hinted that they are willing to explore this option. New Delhi should be bold to explore this option. New Delhi should be bold to explore innovative suggestions, including a negotiated return to something like the pre-1953 status of the Jammu and Kashmir state. the present international line of control should stay, but more transit points and trade routes could be opened along the border. Any proposal for consensus has to be obtained on it. Political parties must rise above immediate electoral interests and see the log term gains for the country if this tortuous issue is to be resolved amicably. At stake in Kashmir is not merely the might of the Indian state, but also its ability to be flexible and accomodative within a liberal and democratic framework. The world is watching us.
Bold and imaginative leadership on the part of New Delhi as well as Kashmiri leaders is necessary. The challenge is to negotiate a common ground. Alienation is as much an issue of perception as it is of ground realities. The Kashmiri's sense of fear or anger is fuelled by propaganda unleashed by Pakistan as much it is a result of mismanagement of the problem by successive governments in Srinagar and New Delhi. A spot of skillful statesmanship is urgently required from all sides. The issue is far too complicated to allow easy solutions.
Kashmir will ever be with India , whatever sacrifices we shall have to make.
by - Sheik Abdullah, in 1948
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Jesus de Galindez
In March 1956, Jesus de Galindez, the Spanish Republican exile and Basque government delegate in New York, mysteriously disappeared from the center of Manhattan and was never seen again. Like so many Jesus de Galindez suffered the pain of concentration camps and exile. He became Delegate of the Basque Government in the Dominican Republic. When he was there , the research he carried out for his doctoral thesis on the disctatorship of Geberal Trujillo was more than enough reason to make him flee the country for New York and after that he was never seen again. Its believed that he was toutured and murdered under the dictatorship of Trujillo. The FBI launched a costly enquiry into who was responsible for removing their most valuable political informant on Latin America, and that Trujillo, scared, set about wiping out all those connected with the kidnapping, starting with Galindez himself. Galindez was a proponent of an inclusive form of nationalism that sought to reconcile two or more identifications. The pilot who took Galindez to Santo Domingo also was killed, the first of a tangled web of assassinations in an episode in which few, apart from Galindez, emerge with any credit. Galindez never saw his political dreams realized. In fact, somehow he intuitively knew about his death. He proposed the creation of an international federation of sorts that would be recognized by the United Nations. But he did not live to see his dreams of greater freedom realized. It seems he was a martyr for freedom: seems because we might never really know what happened to him. His younger brother Tavito, a true believer, took part in the kidnapping of Jesús de Galíndez, in 1956. For his loyalty he was jailed and murdered. If you get time do watch the spanish movie " The Galindez file", based on the true story of this Nationalist.
Indo - pak
India’s vision of peace with Pakistan is a mirage, if unfolding events in Pakistan, the Middle East and the global strategic situation are taken into account. Much has been written in the past on this count and yet India persists in pursuing this mirage. Many American policy analysts also have conceded that Pakistan is an improbable partner for peace with India. They have arrived at this conclusion after a long study of Pakistan’s policy attitudes and fixations and a survey of its demonstrated patterns of approaches to conflict resolution.This issue has endless points to make it short, in reality there cant be peace among these two countries until and unless one of the countries decide to give up their policies which i think is just imaginary. I don't see it happen in distant future. Kashmir is not the only issue as far as peace goes, there are issues like terrorism and the foreign policies of the countries which also plays a major role. Its' difficult yet easy to create peace between both the nations!!
Terrorism
Does terrorism really work as an effective means of achieving an ultimate goal? It seems that many believe that terrorism can be wielded as an effective means of conducting warfare, making political statements, and achieving goals. Yet, terrorism remains a difficult topic to address because it is a subjective term that we as a society have long struggled with an adequate objective definition for the term. If we are unable to reach a consensus on what specifically labels an incident as a terrorist attack, how then can we adequately combat it? Can we truly allow someone to serve as the governing body that determines whether an act is of a terrorist nature or not? Even if we were to do so, how can we trust that the governing body or entity responsible for determining terrorism is being objective in its decision? Some believe that terrorism has a clear-cut definition and thus any act can be easily identified as a terrorist act or not. I disagree emphatically with such an asinine assumption. Putting aside the difficulties involving properly defining the term, the question I have battled with for some time is whether terrorism is an effective means of achieving a goal or not. Can we actually believe that killing innocent people will bring sympathy to our cause and force the surrender of the opposing side? On the other hand, maybe we do not seek sympathy, we instead wish to strike fear into the hearts of our enemies and by doing so, and they will be unwilling to wage war on us. Either rationale has both its pros and cons, but I think history has provided us with some notable examples of both success and failure involving terrorist organizations. This again is subjective, as the concept of victory can be heavily debated when it comes to the following examples. Lets' join our hands and fight against terrorism :)
India - red corridor
The Naxalite movement thrives on disillusionment and disaffection. It collects unaddressed grievances and unredressed complaints and channelises them into anger against the “Indian State”. It tells rape victims, dispossessed tribals and bullied villagers that the target of their ire is not the local landlord, policeman or politician but that abstraction called the “State”. Indeed, beyond seductive dogma and the logic of the inevitability of armed struggle to upturn the status quo, it offers no positive solutions.The Naxal movement that we see today is a far cry and far removed from the Naxal movement that was born in the 1960s in Naxalbari, a remote area of West Bengal. What we saw then was the splintering of the Communists into radicals and moderates; what we are seeing now is abusing the barrel of the gun for furthering negative power politics.
A Forgotten Story
Can we get back our soldiers, please? Who is more important – Dawood Ibrahim or our soldiers? Should we be worrying about trade links with neighbouring countries rather than a moral issue? While our leaders at the SAARC Summit will be playing their little games, will they even pause to think that some of our soldiers may be lying in the prison cells of an alien country for almost three decades?
Isn’t it strange that while the minorities are escaping from Bangladesh, our jawans who fought for the independence of that country are still in some Pakistani prison? In 1971 we were too elated as cries of “Jai Bangla” rent the air. In that charged atmosphere 93,000 Pakistani prisoners were handed over, but we ‘forgot’ to ask for our men to be returned. Yes, forgot!
Thirty years. It is a long time. So, who remembers? In a 13-day war if 54 of our men in uniform went missing, would it be reason enough to weep? Their families cry, and I have seen some of their tears. This is one case I have been pursuing for almost ten years, and during the Agra Summit the subject about the return of our prisoners of war was raised. But it seems it is one more carrot-and-stick game between the two countries. The people who I had seen waiting for their families ten years ago are now older, others must be dead. As I watched them on television as a backdrop to the token talks, I felt even more helpless as I recalled the wrinkled face of Dr. R. S. Suri.
Flashback to 1992. It was a cold afternoon in Faridabad. We were sunning ourselves in the small patch of green in the Suri house. Lorries honked their way through the street, birds chirped on the trees, flies hovered over the coffee mug. It was an ordinary household. Except that this one was waiting. For Ashok who, at 25, was the youngest Major in the army.
He hasn’t returned since the 1971 war. A follow-up seems a redundancy. It is status quo ante. Among bitterness and faith I try to map lives that have been kept alive only on hope. And evidence: That the proud sons of this land are not all dead. The Pakistani government insists it does not have any Indian defence personnel in its custody; this has been its stand all along, and India has not pursued to contradict it. It has been the brave families that are fighting.
Imagine you were the father and someone knocked on your door and told you that your son was dead, they had attended his cremation and condolence meeting. What would you do? Dr.R.S. Suri winced, but for a moment. Then he asked for proof. “Sir,” he questioned the officer, “If my son died in action I want to see his army belt, his uniform and identification disc.” None was available. A junior then told him that his son was probably in Udhampur hospital. He went there, only to find another Major A. K. Suri from the 9 Jat regiment, while his son, Ashok, belonged to the 5 Assam Regiment.
Upon returning to the city, he contacted the headquarters where he was informed that his son was all right, it was the other Suri who was dead. “I was shocked. Here I had just come back after seeing this other Suri alive and they thought by misleading me they could make me happy. I was convinced that these people did not know anything. If the sun is rising and someone tells me it is night, how am I to believe it? The truth is on my side.”
The truth is hard facts. In 1973, the International Red Cross confirmed that Major Suri was missing, but the Pakistani authorities wouldn’t allow its representatives to visit the jails. Dr. Suri’s lonely journey was yet to begin when the postman knocked. The handwriting on the envelope was childish. He tore it open to find a slip in which his son had written that he was in Pakistan. The covering note read, “Sahib, valaikumsalam, I cannot meet you in person. Your son is alive and he is in Pakistan. I could only bring his slip, which I am sending you. Now going back to Pak.” Signed M. Abdul Hamid. The postmark was New Delhi, December 31, 1974.
Six months later there was another letter. “Dear Daddy,” it said, “Ashok touches thy feet to get your benediction. I am quite ok here. Please try to contact the Indian Army or Government of India about us. We are 20 officers here. Don’t worry about me. Pay my regards to everybody at home, specially to mummy, grandfather – Indian government can contact Pakistan government for our freedom.” The then defence secretary confirmed the handwriting as Ashok’s and changed the official statement from “killed in action” to “missing in action”.
Major A.K. Ghosh’s story is more or less similar. At the end of the war the family was informed that he be presumed dead. Sometime later his wife wrote to the commanding officer saying that if her husband was cremated with full military honours his ashes should be sent to her. Amazingly, she got the urn only one year after the request. No one believed it. Tangible proof was missing. Major Ghosh’s brother, A.Ghosh, an ex-warrant officer, was incredulous at the blatant absence of credibility. “After an officer dies there are any number of his men who are prepared to accompany his cortege to his home, and the government does not incur any extra expenditure. Later, however, we were told about his whereabouts. Obviously someone was trying to save his skin.”
When Damayanti Tambay, wife of Ft. Lt. B.V. Tambay, read in the ‘Sunday Pakistan Observer’ published from Dhaka the news item that five pilots were captured alive and the list included the name of her husband, was she foolish to believe that he was alive? And when a Bangladeshi naval officer confirmed having met him, what was she supposed to do – presume, like HQ did, that he was dead?
When M.L. Bhaskar in his book, ‘I Spied For India’, mentioned the names of some of our defence officers who were in jail from the information he had got from a Pakistani official when he himself was in prison, was he lying?
These cases are bizarre not as much for what has happened as for why they did. The Indian government is quite certain that our army personnel are still in Pakistani prisons for these 30 years. A wonderful opportunity presented itself during the Janata regime under Morarji Desai. But the then external affairs minister, Atal Behari Vajpayee, got into technicalities. When President Zia-ul Haq, realising that he was in a position to demand, insisted that for every five Pakistani soldiers one Indian would be returned, Vajpayee shot back that the international ratio was 1:1.
As Indira Gandhi’s home minister, Narasimha Rao had asked families of the missing personnel to visit Pakistan. In 1983 a delegation was taken to a civilian jail in Multan. None of the prisoners recognised them. As Suri was to recount later, “We were promised we would be shown our relatives. We had not travelled all the way to meet petty smugglers, trespassers and illegal entrants.”
Among these, A.Ghosh did spot a man who resembled his brother. “I was scrutinizing him when he whispered, ‘Those who you are looking for are not here’. Many of them were heartbroken, lying on the ground, unable to walk or talk. But this visit was a complete eyewash.”
Can the Indian government be prosecuted? And be later pursued in a court of law? A human rights activist lawyer had told me that a prima facie case could be set out if the courts feel the government has not been sincere. The case only gets strengthened if there is evidence to back it. Besides the ones mentioned, there is another crucial one.
Zulfikar Ali Bhutto could not sleep. Every night he heard demented cries wafting towards his cell from the other side of the barracks. Where did those loud sobs emanate from? Who was being tortured? In prisons no one asked why. One of his lawyers made enquiries and was told by the jail authorities that they were Indian prisoners held after the 1971 war.
This bit of information comes from BBC correspondent Victoria Scholfied’s book ‘The Bhutto Trial and Execution’. Since it was published years after the war, we must ask why the Indian POWs were still behind bars. Why were they still being tortured? And if, as Scholfied writes, “When the time came to exchange POWs, the Indian government did not accept these lunatics as they could not recount their place of origin. And thus, they were retained at Kot Lakhpat,” then we must know the answers to many more whys.
As late as 1988 reports were trickling in regarding the movement of our defence personnel into military establishments in the North West Frontier Province.
Yet no search has been undertaken. The Indian government would have to look at all possibilities. While the popular theory is that it is merely a political issue, other reasons can also be attributed regarding the missing people. They could be under assumed names, or could have been mistakenly kept back as deranged, or, as is suspected in Major Suri’s case, could have been captured a little before the actual outbreak of war, in which case they do not qualify as POWs but as security prisoners or spies. Which means that all these categories must be checked.
Ghosh confesses to a certain cynicism. “They have done so much for the nation. They are taught that if the country is devastated it is as though your mother is being raped. So they go happily with a gun on their shoulder unafraid of dying.”
But even dead men must be accounted for. And dead men don’t send letters. For how long can the families depend on a wayward hope? Many parents have died in these years and many more will. How long can people live waiting for another to come and prove that he is alive? No one is weeping over all the lost years anymore; they want to seize the days that are left. Ashok Suri, in an alien prison cell, must be 55 years old now. It is still not too late. But as his father said, “Living nations must have hot blood. During the Arab-Israeli conflict 4000 Palestinians were exchanged for just four Israelis. They value their men so much. Here, unfortunately, talks go on. Diplomatic and political solutions have failed. We are beyond crying and wailing now.”
And to think that when the son returns he will not be a war hero anymore, but a broken man whose life was lived on the edge, his best years given to soothing his own bruises. When he comes back, will the youngsters recognise him? Nephews and nieces were born in their family. The missing relative has been introduced to them as a photograph of a man whose smile reached his eyes. They have not seen him.
Can he become a role model to them? For the older armymen, will being pushed into retirement not break them? Accustomed to sounds of barked orders and spiked boots, how will they respond to the concern of their families, who probably encouraged them to join the army? And what will the army do – do they honour men who were not there at the right time? There are no answers. No one expects the gates to open suddenly and a smart salute to greet them. The return of the prodigal is a dream they have stopped seeing. The father’s cataract may take some time adjusting to a sallow face, greying hair and a smile that does not do justice even to the mouth. All Dr. Suri could lament about is, “We did not send our children on a picnic. They fought for the country.”
The country stands silent. Not one political party has included the return of our POWs in its manifesto. Why? Have our defence personnel become pawns? Why hasn’t a single government delegation gone to Pakistan? What have our various ambassadors done?
What about public opinion? Do we care? Are defence scams all that the Armed Forces are about? And are we more interested in scoring points over our neighbour rather than trying to get back what is ours – the war hero? Does not the irony of this phrase hit us in the face anymore?
Does not the appeal, “Join the army” sound like a slap to the parents, since they have been told he is not in the records?
Did he exist?
Isn’t it strange that while the minorities are escaping from Bangladesh, our jawans who fought for the independence of that country are still in some Pakistani prison? In 1971 we were too elated as cries of “Jai Bangla” rent the air. In that charged atmosphere 93,000 Pakistani prisoners were handed over, but we ‘forgot’ to ask for our men to be returned. Yes, forgot!
Thirty years. It is a long time. So, who remembers? In a 13-day war if 54 of our men in uniform went missing, would it be reason enough to weep? Their families cry, and I have seen some of their tears. This is one case I have been pursuing for almost ten years, and during the Agra Summit the subject about the return of our prisoners of war was raised. But it seems it is one more carrot-and-stick game between the two countries. The people who I had seen waiting for their families ten years ago are now older, others must be dead. As I watched them on television as a backdrop to the token talks, I felt even more helpless as I recalled the wrinkled face of Dr. R. S. Suri.
Flashback to 1992. It was a cold afternoon in Faridabad. We were sunning ourselves in the small patch of green in the Suri house. Lorries honked their way through the street, birds chirped on the trees, flies hovered over the coffee mug. It was an ordinary household. Except that this one was waiting. For Ashok who, at 25, was the youngest Major in the army.
He hasn’t returned since the 1971 war. A follow-up seems a redundancy. It is status quo ante. Among bitterness and faith I try to map lives that have been kept alive only on hope. And evidence: That the proud sons of this land are not all dead. The Pakistani government insists it does not have any Indian defence personnel in its custody; this has been its stand all along, and India has not pursued to contradict it. It has been the brave families that are fighting.
Imagine you were the father and someone knocked on your door and told you that your son was dead, they had attended his cremation and condolence meeting. What would you do? Dr.R.S. Suri winced, but for a moment. Then he asked for proof. “Sir,” he questioned the officer, “If my son died in action I want to see his army belt, his uniform and identification disc.” None was available. A junior then told him that his son was probably in Udhampur hospital. He went there, only to find another Major A. K. Suri from the 9 Jat regiment, while his son, Ashok, belonged to the 5 Assam Regiment.
Upon returning to the city, he contacted the headquarters where he was informed that his son was all right, it was the other Suri who was dead. “I was shocked. Here I had just come back after seeing this other Suri alive and they thought by misleading me they could make me happy. I was convinced that these people did not know anything. If the sun is rising and someone tells me it is night, how am I to believe it? The truth is on my side.”
The truth is hard facts. In 1973, the International Red Cross confirmed that Major Suri was missing, but the Pakistani authorities wouldn’t allow its representatives to visit the jails. Dr. Suri’s lonely journey was yet to begin when the postman knocked. The handwriting on the envelope was childish. He tore it open to find a slip in which his son had written that he was in Pakistan. The covering note read, “Sahib, valaikumsalam, I cannot meet you in person. Your son is alive and he is in Pakistan. I could only bring his slip, which I am sending you. Now going back to Pak.” Signed M. Abdul Hamid. The postmark was New Delhi, December 31, 1974.
Six months later there was another letter. “Dear Daddy,” it said, “Ashok touches thy feet to get your benediction. I am quite ok here. Please try to contact the Indian Army or Government of India about us. We are 20 officers here. Don’t worry about me. Pay my regards to everybody at home, specially to mummy, grandfather – Indian government can contact Pakistan government for our freedom.” The then defence secretary confirmed the handwriting as Ashok’s and changed the official statement from “killed in action” to “missing in action”.
Major A.K. Ghosh’s story is more or less similar. At the end of the war the family was informed that he be presumed dead. Sometime later his wife wrote to the commanding officer saying that if her husband was cremated with full military honours his ashes should be sent to her. Amazingly, she got the urn only one year after the request. No one believed it. Tangible proof was missing. Major Ghosh’s brother, A.Ghosh, an ex-warrant officer, was incredulous at the blatant absence of credibility. “After an officer dies there are any number of his men who are prepared to accompany his cortege to his home, and the government does not incur any extra expenditure. Later, however, we were told about his whereabouts. Obviously someone was trying to save his skin.”
When Damayanti Tambay, wife of Ft. Lt. B.V. Tambay, read in the ‘Sunday Pakistan Observer’ published from Dhaka the news item that five pilots were captured alive and the list included the name of her husband, was she foolish to believe that he was alive? And when a Bangladeshi naval officer confirmed having met him, what was she supposed to do – presume, like HQ did, that he was dead?
When M.L. Bhaskar in his book, ‘I Spied For India’, mentioned the names of some of our defence officers who were in jail from the information he had got from a Pakistani official when he himself was in prison, was he lying?
These cases are bizarre not as much for what has happened as for why they did. The Indian government is quite certain that our army personnel are still in Pakistani prisons for these 30 years. A wonderful opportunity presented itself during the Janata regime under Morarji Desai. But the then external affairs minister, Atal Behari Vajpayee, got into technicalities. When President Zia-ul Haq, realising that he was in a position to demand, insisted that for every five Pakistani soldiers one Indian would be returned, Vajpayee shot back that the international ratio was 1:1.
As Indira Gandhi’s home minister, Narasimha Rao had asked families of the missing personnel to visit Pakistan. In 1983 a delegation was taken to a civilian jail in Multan. None of the prisoners recognised them. As Suri was to recount later, “We were promised we would be shown our relatives. We had not travelled all the way to meet petty smugglers, trespassers and illegal entrants.”
Among these, A.Ghosh did spot a man who resembled his brother. “I was scrutinizing him when he whispered, ‘Those who you are looking for are not here’. Many of them were heartbroken, lying on the ground, unable to walk or talk. But this visit was a complete eyewash.”
Can the Indian government be prosecuted? And be later pursued in a court of law? A human rights activist lawyer had told me that a prima facie case could be set out if the courts feel the government has not been sincere. The case only gets strengthened if there is evidence to back it. Besides the ones mentioned, there is another crucial one.
Zulfikar Ali Bhutto could not sleep. Every night he heard demented cries wafting towards his cell from the other side of the barracks. Where did those loud sobs emanate from? Who was being tortured? In prisons no one asked why. One of his lawyers made enquiries and was told by the jail authorities that they were Indian prisoners held after the 1971 war.
This bit of information comes from BBC correspondent Victoria Scholfied’s book ‘The Bhutto Trial and Execution’. Since it was published years after the war, we must ask why the Indian POWs were still behind bars. Why were they still being tortured? And if, as Scholfied writes, “When the time came to exchange POWs, the Indian government did not accept these lunatics as they could not recount their place of origin. And thus, they were retained at Kot Lakhpat,” then we must know the answers to many more whys.
As late as 1988 reports were trickling in regarding the movement of our defence personnel into military establishments in the North West Frontier Province.
Yet no search has been undertaken. The Indian government would have to look at all possibilities. While the popular theory is that it is merely a political issue, other reasons can also be attributed regarding the missing people. They could be under assumed names, or could have been mistakenly kept back as deranged, or, as is suspected in Major Suri’s case, could have been captured a little before the actual outbreak of war, in which case they do not qualify as POWs but as security prisoners or spies. Which means that all these categories must be checked.
Ghosh confesses to a certain cynicism. “They have done so much for the nation. They are taught that if the country is devastated it is as though your mother is being raped. So they go happily with a gun on their shoulder unafraid of dying.”
But even dead men must be accounted for. And dead men don’t send letters. For how long can the families depend on a wayward hope? Many parents have died in these years and many more will. How long can people live waiting for another to come and prove that he is alive? No one is weeping over all the lost years anymore; they want to seize the days that are left. Ashok Suri, in an alien prison cell, must be 55 years old now. It is still not too late. But as his father said, “Living nations must have hot blood. During the Arab-Israeli conflict 4000 Palestinians were exchanged for just four Israelis. They value their men so much. Here, unfortunately, talks go on. Diplomatic and political solutions have failed. We are beyond crying and wailing now.”
And to think that when the son returns he will not be a war hero anymore, but a broken man whose life was lived on the edge, his best years given to soothing his own bruises. When he comes back, will the youngsters recognise him? Nephews and nieces were born in their family. The missing relative has been introduced to them as a photograph of a man whose smile reached his eyes. They have not seen him.
Can he become a role model to them? For the older armymen, will being pushed into retirement not break them? Accustomed to sounds of barked orders and spiked boots, how will they respond to the concern of their families, who probably encouraged them to join the army? And what will the army do – do they honour men who were not there at the right time? There are no answers. No one expects the gates to open suddenly and a smart salute to greet them. The return of the prodigal is a dream they have stopped seeing. The father’s cataract may take some time adjusting to a sallow face, greying hair and a smile that does not do justice even to the mouth. All Dr. Suri could lament about is, “We did not send our children on a picnic. They fought for the country.”
The country stands silent. Not one political party has included the return of our POWs in its manifesto. Why? Have our defence personnel become pawns? Why hasn’t a single government delegation gone to Pakistan? What have our various ambassadors done?
What about public opinion? Do we care? Are defence scams all that the Armed Forces are about? And are we more interested in scoring points over our neighbour rather than trying to get back what is ours – the war hero? Does not the irony of this phrase hit us in the face anymore?
Does not the appeal, “Join the army” sound like a slap to the parents, since they have been told he is not in the records?
Did he exist?
Broken World
The way that I do now.
With an urge to kill,
A desire to thrill,
While my world crashes down.
Once upon a time,
I was angel with silver wings-
I broke my word,
I killed my dreams,
But nobody there forgave my sins.
So now I'm just this victim
Of preconception
And true damnation,
Wracked with splinters,
Reminding me of
My wicked immoralation.
I'm reaching out into a world
I can no longer see.
Twisting emotions,
Chaotic potions,
Of longing for the person
I used to know as me.
You cant' touch the dreams
I ignored all my friends
I was alone as I desired
I thought I’d learn the lesson
It was a sweet child dream
Should I believe in destiny?
Could you disappear of my life?
I can’t stand close to you
Your lies wound me deeply
I beg you stop to deceive me
Everyone uses us to satisfy their desires
Unfortunately this is our life
Am I just a puppet in the hands of the great universe?
In the last days I felt so useless
Are you afraid of disappointing me?
I know nobody is perfect
Who am I to disagree of laws of the nature?
What have I done to be happy?
Is it possible to see through my eyes?
In the sea of contradictions
Where any human being lives in the Earth
How it’s difficult to trust
Everything that you can’t see
Everything that you can’t touch
Cause dreams you can’t touch
You can’t prove for the world
That they are real to you
Feel it by yourself...
Took a blade and cut my vein apart.
The blood poured from my hand,
And feelings poured from my heart..
Things running in the flashback,
Explained how life drove me insane.
There was no sensation,
There was no pain..
The floor became wet,
And bleeding I lay.
My life flashed before my eyes,
In the last two minutes of my stay..
With the sudden struck of fate,
Over my temptations the truth prevailed.
I wanted to apologize,
But my lips failed..
The blood ran out from the door,
And everyone realized what happened.
The door was being beaten at,
But the blood flowed unrivaled..
No one ever realized,
The truth behind my lies.
And faintly in the flashback,
I heard my own cries..
Before departing I just wanted a sight,
But my heart was loosing pace.
And then flashed before my eyes,
His happy and innocent face..
But alas the time came,
And reality crushed my desire.
I said to myself everything will be fine,
But something inside said "you are a liar"..
The truth that was once painful,
Suddenly became violent.
And the eyes that were always speaking,
Suddenly became silent..."
Friends whom I left far behind
(Dedicated to Mumbai and Bhubaneswar gang)
As I sat here through my tears
I look back on all the years
Games we lost and won
The prom where we had so mch fun
Having fun with great laughter
We all lived happliy ever after
I can never take back those days
and now its too late
Make an amends with
old best friends
We will be friends forever
Amigos, buddies, pals
Where you are, I’ll be
No matter how many miles
We will be friends forever
No matter how many mistakes you or I make
Because as long we are friends
There’s nothing we couldn’t take
We will be friends forever
No matter where we’ll be
Because when we leave one another behind
You’ll be in my heart all the time
We will be friends forever
No matter how old we are
Because when you’re friends forever
You’ll never be too far
For now I say ,from today til forever
For now I say ,from today til forever
Goodbye to all that came my way.
Love you all and this feeling only intensifies as the years pass.
I dream but not of love anymore
Your name will be a lasting curse to me.
Hell shall take over your earthly goodness
Such a lie, and you made my tears a memory...
Promises you gave which never reached heaven
Yet I craved every damn pictures of bliss
You left my heart in total unbearable burden
You poisoned me with your last kiss...
What you did, to me was so foreign
Yet I believe you had a reason...
I still feel my tears...despite all the rain
Now I know..for you to deceive...I was chosen
Now it's over and you leave me with open eyes
Tears rage down with hymns of lore
I still think of you despite your disturbing lies
I dream but not of love anymore...
I dream but not of love anymore
I close my eyes but now these visions restore
I try not to dream of you anymore
But helpless as I watch the frozen moments grow
I try not to feel your touch anymore
But it’s useless now as it is very deep to the core
I dream but not of love anymore ….....
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