Myan Mouji, My Mother


By Muhammad Faysal

Roushan Illahi, who sings under the nome de guerre MC KASH released a new song Take It In Blood. It features the mesmerizing voice of Junaid Altaf. I closed my eyes, put my headphones on full volume. I remembered the moment that makes my heart bleed.

It was the last Eid-ul-Fitr, I along with my brother went to Eid Gah. After the prayers finished. I walked towards the Martyrs Graveyard, where children,youth and old are buried. It has become a tradition for me to visit this National Monument whenever I am in Kashmir. After offering Fateha (prayers) at the grave of Shaheed Ashfaq Majid, my relatives and everyone who smile beneath.

As I was walking towards the graves of Tufail, Fida and brothers who got killed in 2010. I saw Anees’s mother and her father. His father was looking at his grave, as if he was the baby in the cradle. His mother was standing motionless, staring at her 17-year-old son. Anees Ahmad Ganai went out of his home on August 03, 2010 to recharge his phone credit. Protests were going on in the volatile city of Srinagar. As he left his home after asking money from his father, clashes were going in the vicinity. He was caught in the melee. He was dragged, beaten and abused by Indian troops. They shot him in his chest, blood came pouring out. He was trembling, fainting and screaming. They hit him with batons again, his eyes looked towards the faces of the monsters. He smiled.

His corpse was lying on the streets for hours, the troops didn’t allow anybody to take him to the hospital or the graveyard. They put a sewage pipe that was lying on the roadside on his dead corpse. His father heard the news, he came screaming out from his home “Anees Syaba”. The troops had left. People joined and took him to the hospital. He was declared ‘brought dead’. His father is a soft hearted man, he cried like a wailing mother. His mother screaming “Aneesa syaboo”, shocked at looking her son’s dead smile.

Back to Eidgah, his father came to his grave and hugged it, he cried. I looked from far, motionless. Her mother gave a cry, she jumped on his grave and hugged his tombstone, like a mother hugs her baby when he’s scared. Whispering sweet words like he was there, listening. My heartbroke. I handed a 100 rupee note to the caretaker, I rushed out. I ran, tears running on my face.

I came home. I looked at my mother. I looked at her as if it was for the last time. There is nothing as painful, to see a mother losing her son in such brutal manner. I can feel the pain but I can’t bear it.

We are all the children of our mothers in Kashmir, who lost and bore the pain.

On the Brink of death he says:

I have no foothold in me left to lose,

I am free near my freedom

and my tomorrow is in my hand….

I will enter, in a little while, my life

and become born free and parentless,

and choose for my name letters of lapis. (Mahmoud Darwish)

Thanks Roushan for the inspiration, feels better.

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