The rift betwixt India and Pakistan is no stranger to any of us, even though we hardly recall its source.
As the two nations contemplate battle, mangling the carcass of the once tranquil valley of Kashmir, we seem to have lost perspective. We see nineteen funeral pyres, nineteen shattered homes. Yet, we don’t see those hundreds whose sacrifice we demand, those thousands who quietly inhabit the valley, wondering when our guns would go to sleep so they could too.
Our passion has blinded us. “Pakistan infiltrated our lands,” we say. The ones who did, rest six feet under.
We now divert our vision from what mattered, and still does, as we ready ourselves for war. Is that really necessary? War spills more poison that defiles our lands and flows a boisterous red in our streets. What do we do then? Count the graves and if you lack a number, cry out, “We win!”? It seems to me as though Kashmir isn’t even on the agenda anymore. If you honestly believe a war would prove to be an efficacious remedy, then I ridicule your naiveté. War means nothing but loss to the individual.
Our leaders now desperately seek a resolution. However, there is no panacea that will resolve this constant bickering. We’ve tried handling things through peaceful resolution but we weren’t done. Peace doesn’t come easy. Our complications began centuries ago. One cannot expect to rectify them in a day. We can’t give up our vision to thrive in harmony. It’s what we have and that should be our resolve.
I must admit though, there will never be peace without endurance. There will always be new conflicts and challenges to face; and we will, one at a time.
Don’t spill blood. Let it flow through your hearts. Perhaps that would provide it with the warmth it needs. Become the tolerant India we once were, the one we claim to be.