“Khuda Tumhari Hifaazat Kare!”
Empathy in the Times of Conflict
10th August 2019, South Delhi:
As the residents of Kailash Colony put their thoughts to a halt in the dead of the night, there’s one denizen whose thoughts are as awake as the light flickering in his room. It’s been 7 days since Rizwaan spoke to his Ammi. Having lived all his life in a politically charged climate, Rizwaan is accustomed to the convoluted and hopeless state of affairs of the country. Nevertheless, no amount of reconciliation with the seemingly bleak reality had prepared him for the event that would turn the political landscape of Kashmir upside down.
Reminiscing the good times with his mother, Rizwaan lights a cigarette and puffs at it thrice. Mindlessly humming the baseline of a Kashmiri lullaby that his mother used to sing to him, he scrolls through several disturbing tweets until he comes across the propaganda machinery unleashed by a news channel.
10th August 2019, Central Delhi:
In another corner of Delhi, Jagdish gets off from work and resorts to his newly found escape. He lights a beedi (cigarette), the only one that he managed to save since last week. As he stands under a dim street light at the corner of a thadi (shop), he takes a drag and loses himself in a wave of thoughts that he mindlessly floats on. A notification on his phone about Breaking News Live’s tweet on section 370 interrupts his stream of thoughts. It reads:
At this point, Jagdish opens google translate and starts speaking in the microphone:
“Tum kashmiriyon ko khush hona chahiye ki bhaarat tumhare vikaas ke liye itna sab kuch kar raha hai. Iss sarkaar ne aakhirkar wo kar dikhaya jo ki batwaare ke baad hi ho jaana chahiye tha.”
After posting the google translate result as a reply to the Twitter thread, Jagdish resumes smoking beedi and starts walking towards the boulevards of R.K. Ashram Marg, the connecting point of the lush affluent central Delhi and shady and dingy lanes of Paharganj.
Reading this extremely disturbing tweet made Rizwaan’s skin crawl. Disheartened by people’s ignorance while not letting his right brain affect his rational thinking, he tried to comprehend the state of mind of the person who tweeted this, his head now pounding with an overflow of sentiments. 5 minutes later, his phone buzzed- “@arman137 retweeted @Jagdish35’s tweet.” Agitated, he comments:
Seeing the number of followers increasing to 237, Jagdish gets deliriously happy. He checks his phone every few minutes, each time getting more excited than the last.
What follows is a heated attack of tweets, one viler after the other.
3 people like his tweet in less than 2 minutes. His eyes become wide, and his smile wider- he yells, “Ab mazaa aaya kya bachu? Did you now have fun?” as a result of a massive adrenaline rush. Another notification appears:
(These bastards suck our blood like leeches. They want to have their cake and eat it too.)
At this point, Rizwaan is extremely agitated by Jagdish’s ignorance and decides to take the conversation to the inbox. Just before he starts typing his response, he attempts to pacify himself. I understand where this person is coming from, so I can’t let misinformation delude the way he thinks, Rizwaan says to himself while gently dissolving the coffee in hot milk.
“Okay, now you have jumped from the issues of Indian federalism and secularism to special status...let’s discuss that. We come there for education and better opportunities, just like how the Indians go to the gulf (thousands of Keralites are in gulf right now) or other nations for jobs and education; how is it different. Also, it is a loss for Kashmiris that we have lost cross-border contacts with other border states due to conflict. We have been asking to open up borders to maintain our lost ties, but it is your government that is not allowing that.”
“This had to happen someday. It is that this government was brave enough to do it because it is not coward like the previous government. India had to be one.”
“The previous governments are no better and have not done any better than this one for us. We were living in jackboot then as well, but if you celebrate the mere assertion of power to an entire population for the satisfaction of the ego of some people, then it just shows your sheer ignorance.”
“But it is good for you. It will bring you development also. So much good will happen to you. Look at how developed Gujarat is.”
“Gujarat Model is not true. Refer to the data by the activist and economist Jean Dreze.”
With this, Jagdish goes crazy and starts justifying Ram Rajya and nationalism.
Rizwaan leaves the conversation with a tedious “Khuda tumhari hifaazat kare! May the Lord be with you!” and returns to the thoughts of his mother, but his mind soon transitions to the tweets which makes him realize how nationalism out-powers democracy in this country, how the shadow of nationalism looms over the political stands of the people and blocks any room for independent thinking.
Baba used to say that there’s only so long you can jeopardize your time and energy over people who don’t want to listen. There should be a better way to engage with people with different ideologies. Maybe listening to them with honest earnestness? thought Rizwaan engaging in his usual soliloquy.
11th August 2019, Central Delhi:
Jagdish gets ready for his final day at work. He is being shifted to another location of the Dhaba chain which means he will no longer live in proximity to his family. Another option is finding accommodation which is worth double the rent he is currently paying making it infeasible for him to consider. Nevertheless, he is in a good mood after last night’s triumphant debate on Twitter.
The first customer to enter the Dhaba is a long-haired young man with thick-framed glasses who is often seen eating at the other Dhaba in the locality.
“What would you like to have, sir?”
While flipping through the pages of ‘What is History?’ — a mandatory reading for his course — the customer, a student, takes some time to be aware of the waiter’s presence. “A cup of coffee and an aaloo parantha (potato flatbread),” he says in a low voice.
“Anything else, sir?”
“Go write my exam!” the customer snapped.
“I suppose I can’t do that,” said Jagdish nonchalantly.
“Is everything alright, sir? You don’t seem okay,” enquires Jagdish after not having responded for a few seconds.
“I am really worried about someone very close to me. She is really sick and I don’t know where she is, how she is doing. She can’t even take medicine without someone’s help.”
“I am so sorry to hear that, Bhaiya! Have you considered visiting her?”
“After the revocation of Kashmir’s special status, there is tension in the state. I can’t risk going there. I don’t know when I will return and I can’t afford to lose focus on my studies.”
“But bhaiyaji, the area is very secure now. After the abrogation, they have tightened the security. Also, you don’t need to worry too much about your loved one. The government is doing good things for the country.”
“Main tumhari nasamjhi par hairaan hun. I am surprised at your ignorance. Imagine being in a region with constant uncertainty about your life, where you are under constant surveillance. You are at the risk of getting blinded by pellets — a weapon that was used for hunting animals, and I doubt if it’s ever used for another purpose in any other region. And the repugnant smell of pepper gas hangs constantly in the air signaling the remnants of the clashes somewhere nearby. On top of that you wake up and your right to determine the future of your homeland, which was already meager, is now completely taken away.”
As the new information tries to fight against the beliefs of Jagdish, his spine is biffed by a freezer burn and an unsettling feeling starts in the pit of his gut. With these confusing emotions, he has the urge to shout at him but a bleak voice- Kya jaanein, ye sach bhi ho sakta hai. For all I know, it could be true- keeps him from uttering anything.
“Do you have a family?” asks the customer while maintaining his composure.
“Yes. My wife and two children.”
“What would you do if you are in a different state and your wife gets sick and there is no one else to take care of your children. You cannot reach them because of the internet shutdown. You don’t know if they are safe.”
As he is about to go through seismic shifts in his personal life because of the new job location, the thought of his family being in trouble puts him in distress. He tries not to let his emotions get the better of him. “Arre! Aap shubh shubh boliye! Please say only good things. I understand this but this is important to end terrorism. Only the natives of Kashmir are opposing this.”
“Do you think that the ‘natives of Kashmir’ were considered when such an extreme step about their land, their lives, was taken? Isn’t it just a selfish motive to assimilate Kashmir into India as a Union Territory by taking away the rights of the state and its people? Kashmiris are the people who are being directly affected by it. You and I can just make assumptions to justify our belief systems. Try to put yourself in their shoes, then you will understand their plight. They have been suffering for ages now. They are the prisoners of the crimes they never committed.”
The sound of silence is palpable. A surging perplexity clouds Jagdish’s mind. They are the prisoners of the crimes they never committed. His mouth is open and loose yet he cannot utter a word. One moment he is convinced of his beliefs, the next his head is spinning transitions grappling with more questions than answers. Do I not see things as they are? All this while, his eyes are fixed at an unbaked earthen pot a yard behind the customer’s head.
“I have to leave now. Khuda tumhari hifaazat kare!” announces the customer abruptly. He leaves without having eaten anything.
“Khuda tumhari hifaazat kare!” The farewell note keeps bouncing around in Jagdish’s mind. As he tries to catch up with his thoughts, a blunt strike of “@Rizwaank7” echoes in his skull. He cannot be mistaken. “Aap toh wahi hain na? You are the same person, right?” he mumbles to himself, standing there paralyzed from his neck up.
About the Story
The contemporary template of social media is a battleground of conflicting ideologies where people use carefully chosen opinionated words to launch attacks on whoever they consider to be their opposition, even if that requires basing their arguments on fallacious assumptions. Even though these virtual debates seem ‘democratic’ because they are accessible to a large number of people, the sides, often, stick to their own positions because they just want to win the arguments and do not want to appear ‘imperfect’ to their followers on social media. Consequently, the need to move out of these social-media driven templates of argumentation becomes all the more important and in-person meetings can sometimes offer us a good alternative as they give us the space and time to listen, process, understand, and react in a more empathetic way. An offline interaction — or even a debate — allows us to engage and bond beyond the performative personas that platforms like Twitter have created in our heads and in those of others.
Such ‘battles’ were observed once again on August 5 2019, when, with the passing of a bill, the special status of the state of Jammu and Kashmir was revoked and the state was split into two Union Territories engendering tensions in the northernmost part of the country. The tremors also shook Rizwaan and Jagdish, two bachelors living in their respective universes until they crossed paths on Twitter one day. This story traces the trajectory of a debate that not only transforms itself but also its participants as it moves from an online to offline mode.
About the Author
Jaskirat is a Business Economics graduate who is pursuing liberal arts and wants to be, among other things, a code breaker. She changes her career trajectories more number of times than the blue posters in her room. She often gets lost while humming a random song until a conscious friend brings her back into the world. She is a little bit of everything and sometimes, a little too much.
