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The Travails of Two Love Birds In Kashmir Under Lockdown

For youngsters in Kashmir, the unprecedented lockdown of 2019 was a tough time: the phone lines were dead and they couldn’t get to whisper sweet nothings into each other’s ears or plan hangouts. Here is how a young couple coped with the curbs.

After every hour, the phone would beep in soft volume. The caller at the other end would invariably ask: “Hey, Afreen! How are you? What are you doing right now?” The exchange between Afreen and Muzamil would continue for hours on. Afreen, 24, cane from Srinagar. Muzamil, a six-ft tall, young, handsome, and enthusiastic boy in his 20s, lived in south Kashmir, a volatile neighbourhood. Muzamil and Afreen would usually meet on the 5th of every month somewhere in the city, and before parting they would decide on the fresh date and place for the meeting. In July, they met at Shalimar and decided to meet on August 5, 2019, on the bank of Jehlum River in a cafe. 

In any part of the world when two romantic souls meet, they share beautiful moments of happiness and, in the end, depart cheerfully. Additionally, they don’t carry fears about the impending change in circumstances. However, in conflict-torn Kashmir, before bidding goodbye to one’s loved one, one has to discuss the possibility of unrest or curfew or unconditional communication gag, and much more. Keeping all this in mind, one plans accordingly. One learns all this through experience. When Muzamil and Afreen had met, they had forgotten to discuss this crucial part. Nonetheless, both met after a tragic gap and eventually figured out how to keep seeing each other. Later, they never missed their monthly hangout session. 

Their relationship was going strong as the situation in Kashmir stayed normal, except on borders. Afreen’s love would travel from the extreme south to the city. They were growing attached to each other; Afreen would ring Muzamil every hour to know his whereabouts. However, in July 2019, their tryst was brief and quite unusual for both. The tragic tale was about to commence: they missed asking each other where and how to meet in case of any untoward incident, like complete e-curfew. That day, on his way back home, Muzamil texted his beloved: “Are you home sweetheart?” The reply: “Just reached”. Subsequently, their exchange would go on for hours on end. They would share jokes, emojis, GIFs, nostalgic Urdu couplets, and much more. One night late in July, during a prolonged phone call, Muzamil asked, “Afreen, don’t you think we should meet again this month? I feel something bad is going to happen possibly in some days.” She responded: “Let’s meet if you wish to.” However, Muzamil got busy and the programme got cancelled. On August 4, as they were talking to each other, their phone became non-functional abruptly. Early on August 5, when the people of Jammu Kashmir were watching the news on their TV sets, the Romeos and Juliets of the Valley were in deep shock. Their eyes were on the TV, watching the news about the special status of J&K being revoked, but their heart was somewhere else. As the day passed, Afreen was lost in Muzamil’s thoughts and Muzamil in Afreen’s. A week passed like a month for both of them; every moment weighed heavy. Muzamil regretted having missed the chance to meet her when she was ready to. It was he who had got stuck with work. Now, even landline was not working, leave aside transport. For a month, they longed for each other.

As September 5 was approaching, Muzamil wondered how to travel from south Kashmir to the city when the paramilitary personnel were guarding every nook and cranny of the city.  Afreen’s alley, too, was blocked. In the days that followed, she would peep through a small window but was hardly able to watch the activities of policemen and CRPF personnel patrolling her narrow alley. She had written the date on her palm, and out of frustration, she had inscribed it on her arm as well. She yearned to get a glimpse of Muzamil. The condition of her lover was the same. He was determined to go to the city, come what may. He made a plan and got up early in the morning to execute it. Ultimately, when the sun rose above the horizon on September 5, he woke up at six. He left home without having breakfast and travelled on foot for several kilometers. 

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He was focused only on his destination, but it was still many more miles away. The vehicles plying in the direction Muzamil was walking were all full of passengers. After some time, an old man with a little white beard, who was driving an ambulance, caught sight of Muzamil. He stopped and asked Muzamil to get in. The ambulance was carrying a pregnant woman. She was in labour pain and she had been referred from District Maternity hospital to LD Hospital, Srinagar. The ambulance sped off, with its siren wailing. They were not stopped anywhere on the way to LD hospital. The 45-minute journey ultimately ended outside the gate of the hospital. Muzamil got off and ran to the footbridge over Jehlum. It was barricaded with concentric wires and the security personnel were not allowing any person to cross over. But once they saw a tired boy alone, with a smile on his face, they permitted him to go. As he climbed down and was proceeding towards the Historic Clock Tower, there was another barricade and many security forces were present there.

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Unfortunately, he was stopped here and asked to show his I-card. He put his hand in the pocket. There was no card. He had forgotten to carry I-card as he was in a hurry when he was leaving home. He was surrounded by forces and there was an argument. The noise reached the nearby residential area and people came out to check what was happening. Afreen, who was inside her house, too, heard the noise. She rushed near the window to see what was happening. She initially took it lightly, but once she looked at the person being surrounded by forces, she became interested and opened the window to get a better view. But she was asked by her Ammi to close the window and rush back to the kitchen. While coming down, she thought what if the person surrounded by forces was Muzamil.


(All characters in this piece are fictitious. Younus Rashid is an English graduate from Anantnag College. Twitter: younusrashid97.)
 

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