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Faith is something which can help a person overcome the most difficult task which may seem impossible at first. Faith is the light which diminishes the dark alleys of Fear. It's faith that gives a person the strength and courage to be ready for any situation. It's Faith in the first step of an infant who overcomes all his fear of getting hurt looking at the reassuring smile of his parents. He knows that they will never let him fall. A person has faith in his family as he knows them. There is an emotional and blood bond between them. There are some examples of faith when a person puts faith in someone other than their family which is worth mentioning. A bond of trust which a person keeps with strangers where he knows he will be sheltered and taken care of. It’s a silver lining of hope when a person keeps hope for returning from the shadows of terrorism and destruction. I was born in the land of immense beauty where the golden sunrays illuminated the surroundings with splashes of gold. The pure white snow added to the beauty of the mountains as if filling the golden canvas with purity of the soul. The snow-clapped mountains with green pasture were the painting of God where every stroke of the brush was used with a lot of love and care. The initial years of my childhood were filled with fun and frolic. Coming from the Gujjar Bakharwal community, we were wanderers of this beautiful land from one place to another. We used to tend our sheep and were well versed with the topographic of the land. Six months of the year, we usually make Kashmir our home and the remaining six we usually be stationed in a different place in a warmer climate. With our herd and we used to walk the trails which were unknown to a lot of people at the same time, were used as infiltration routes from across the borders,
Kashmir is a land with dense jungles, steep valleys and high mountains along with chilling water flowing through various places. After years and years of walking through this nature one becomes knowledgeable of every fall and danger in its beauty. We are prone to a lot of security checks and questions by various authorities due to the nature of our work.Few incidents in my growing years have taught me the value of faith against surrendering to one's fear. As we are nomads, we usually do not have a fixed place of residence. We move from one place to another depending on our needs. Once, we had camped ourselves in a dense jungle which had proximity to the neighboring country. We knew the risk we were taking, but since it was getting dark and winter chills were setting in, we thought about giving it a try. It is said God is the magician who plays tricks on us human beings. He the almighty knows what strings to pull, everything is pre-decided according to his command. From my grandfather I have heard many stories of the gunfights between security forces and militants in these jungles. In their younger days they had witnessed a few operations. As a young child I could not understand why these Army people were fighting with the guys who were coming from across the border. They were also, like us, wearing Phirans and speaking Kasher, Pahari, but at the same time I was inquisitive why these young lads used to come only in the darkness of night.My grandfather narrated one incident of how his faith won against his fears. It must be the early 90’s when there was a lot of disturbance in the Valley. My grandfather with his nomads was resting for the night in one of the jungles. They heard as if crackers were bursting in some distance and then came the loud sound of an explosion. He had heard about the militants in the valley and how local youths were sent for training across the borders so they could come and create panic and disturbance here. Very soon he realized that an operation was going on between the Army and militants. Panic stuck to him as the group he was travelling with had young women and children. I was also around 3-4 years of age at that time. But as it is said, faith is the one thing that gives you strength to face all fears. My grandfather was praying to God almighty that we should be safe. At the same time, he gathered the young men together and asked them to be ready with whatever they could strike, knife, anything that they could to defend themselves.
Suddenly, the firing increased, and the commotion was running towards our tents before my grandfather and the men could run forward. Two-3 militants entered the tent where my mother and I were hiding. They took us hostage and warned my grandfather to misguide the Army men who were chasing them. Helpless against the self-respect of his daughter-in-law and the safety of his grandson, my grandfather decided to do as the militants said. Even when obeying the dikats of these militants, there was a faith in his heart that the Indian Army would not let him down, even giving away their own lives, they would save the self-respect of his daughter and her son. Deep in his thoughts, suddenly a few officers approached him. Looking at them, the officers questioned the tribe who they were and what they were doing in the dead of the night in this dangerous jungle. My grandfather introduced himself as the head of the community and informed the officers that, since it was getting dark, they were resting and would resume towards the village in the morning. He spoke to the officer with the utmost confidence and simplicity, thinking about the safety of his family. Kitne log haiaapkesaath the officer enquired. My grandfather said Saheb 20-25 hai hum auratoaurbaccho ko milakar. As soon as he uttered these words, he got tensed. What if the officer made a headcount and inquired about the absence of 2 members, his blood turned into ice? From the nearby tent the nozzle of the gun was pointed towards me and my mother with an occasional nudge towards me. The militants were listening carefully to what was next. Baba yahakhatrahainapneKisikoyaha se bhaagtedekhakya- 2 bacchethea phiran pehene hue. My grandfather nodded his head in the affirmative. OK, the officer said aap khayal rakhiyeaur jitney jaldi ho yaha se chalejaye saying that he went in the other direction.
In his heart, my grandfather was praying for a miracle. 10 minutes passed by, and the militants came out of the tent dragging my mother and me. He used a choice of words for the Army and told my grandfather aap ke liyee kinam hai and before he could refuse, they pushed me to the ground and, with the butt of the rifle, started hitting me in my legs. I cried in pain. It was as if the lighting was striking my whole body. Sambhaloissay saying they left me and started dragging my mother, taking her with them. Bleeding from my legs, crying in immense pain and wailing for my mother, my grandfather pleaded with them to spare my mother. His pleas didn’t affect them. Lust had taken over them and they were just dragging her. Helpless, my grandfather was looking at her, trying to stop me from running towards her. Suddenly, his world had come crashing down. Such was the tremor of these militants that no one from the tribe even tried to challenge or stop them. Everyone had turned into stone. Whizz a sharp sound broke the wailing, and 1 militant was shot in the head. Before he could react, the 2nd one who was holding my mother was down too.
Every member of the tribe looked in just 1 direction and, as if Messiah was making an entry and the surroundings illuminated his presence, we saw the officer and his men enter. My grandfather could not believe his eyes. When his mind had lost hope, his heart had faith that these Army men would not let him down. His heart won against his mind and his faith came true. Even after so much of convincing by my grandfather, the officer could make out something was amiss in his version. He could smell the fear, the helplessness in the voice of my grandfather. Judging the complexity of the situation, he decided to take a detour to find out the actual truth. He had not gone anywhere but was a spectator at a distance. Looking at a child being hit, and women being disrespected, his blood boiled, but his training had taught him to attack, to kill. He took position with his men, waited for the right opportunity where there would be no collateral damage and when he was sure of it, he strikes to Kill. Such was his aim that there was no chance that the target could survive.Once it was confirmed that the threat was neutralized, there was a mobilization to take me to the hospital in the golden hours to save my legs. It was the effort and bravery of these officers in the nick of time that my mother was saved, and I was spared from being a handicap. This was the incident of Faith against Fear. I had tears in my eyes. What if the Army men had not returned?
The third militant who was hiding inside the tent was trembling when the officer and his men entered. Looking at him, the officer's heart reached out to the child. The young boy was hardly 14-15 years old and was trembling. Seeing the men in uniform started sobbing. The officer kept a reassuring hand on his head and in the calmest voice asked him, Beta kya naam hai aap kaghabraonahikuchnahikarenge. Hearing those reassuring kind words, the wall broke inside the child. He fell on the feet of the officer and started sobbing Muje bacha lijiye Mujeapne Walid ke pass janahai. He was given water and taken away.Later we came to know that the 3rd militant had taken this path of destruction due to fear of himself and his family. The trainers had abducted him from the house at gunpoint, threatening to kill his whole family and rape the women of the house if he didn’t accompany them. The fear of losing his loved ones made him walk the path of militancy against his wishes. But that day when the Army officer spoke to him and tried to understand his situation, there was a sense of calmness that took over. We got to know that he had been given fair treatment and efforts were made to give him a new normal life. He had walked on the wrong path because of fear, but it was Faith which made him realize that he could repent his mistake and live a good life. What would have happened to my mother and what about me? I would be a handicap, a burden to my whole family. The day I decided I would not surrender to fear but would have faith in the protectors of our land. Let there be many sermons and preaching from across the border or within the village, we will never be lured with money and women. I will be a companion to these brave army men, their navigators, who will help them chart the map to stop infiltration, bloodshed and chaos. The knowledge of the routes and hidden terrain passed on to me by my ancestors will be shared with these Men of Honour. It will be my small contribution to making my land and my country safe. It will be a steppingstone for people like me and an example of unguided youths choosing the right path. We will unmask the intentions of those people who conduct the Proxy war against the government.Our faith in our Army will stand tall and guard us against all fears.
Faith is something which can help a person overcome the most difficult task which may seem impossible at first. Faith is the light which diminishes the dark alleys of Fear. It's faith that gives a person the strength and courage to be ready for any situation. It's Faith in the first step of an infant who overcomes all his fear of getting hurt looking at the reassuring smile of his parents. He knows that they will never let him fall. A person has faith in his family as he knows them. There is an emotional and blood bond between them. There are some examples of faith when a person puts faith in someone other than their family which is worth mentioning. A bond of trust which a person keeps with strangers where he knows he will be sheltered and taken care of. It’s a silver lining of hope when a person keeps hope for returning from the shadows of terrorism and destruction. I was born in the land of immense beauty where the golden sunrays illuminated the surroundings with splashes of gold. The pure white snow added to the beauty of the mountains as if filling the golden canvas with purity of the soul. The snow-clapped mountains with green pasture were the painting of God where every stroke of the brush was used with a lot of love and care. The initial years of my childhood were filled with fun and frolic. Coming from the Gujjar Bakharwal community, we were wanderers of this beautiful land from one place to another. We used to tend our sheep and were well versed with the topographic of the land. Six months of the year, we usually make Kashmir our home and the remaining six we usually be stationed in a different place in a warmer climate. With our herd and we used to walk the trails which were unknown to a lot of people at the same time, were used as infiltration routes from across the borders,
Kashmir is a land with dense jungles, steep valleys and high mountains along with chilling water flowing through various places. After years and years of walking through this nature one becomes knowledgeable of every fall and danger in its beauty. We are prone to a lot of security checks and questions by various authorities due to the nature of our work.Few incidents in my growing years have taught me the value of faith against surrendering to one's fear. As we are nomads, we usually do not have a fixed place of residence. We move from one place to another depending on our needs. Once, we had camped ourselves in a dense jungle which had proximity to the neighboring country. We knew the risk we were taking, but since it was getting dark and winter chills were setting in, we thought about giving it a try. It is said God is the magician who plays tricks on us human beings. He the almighty knows what strings to pull, everything is pre-decided according to his command. From my grandfather I have heard many stories of the gunfights between security forces and militants in these jungles. In their younger days they had witnessed a few operations. As a young child I could not understand why these Army people were fighting with the guys who were coming from across the border. They were also, like us, wearing Phirans and speaking Kasher, Pahari, but at the same time I was inquisitive why these young lads used to come only in the darkness of night.My grandfather narrated one incident of how his faith won against his fears. It must be the early 90’s when there was a lot of disturbance in the Valley. My grandfather with his nomads was resting for the night in one of the jungles. They heard as if crackers were bursting in some distance and then came the loud sound of an explosion. He had heard about the militants in the valley and how local youths were sent for training across the borders so they could come and create panic and disturbance here. Very soon he realized that an operation was going on between the Army and militants. Panic stuck to him as the group he was travelling with had young women and children. I was also around 3-4 years of age at that time. But as it is said, faith is the one thing that gives you strength to face all fears. My grandfather was praying to God almighty that we should be safe. At the same time, he gathered the young men together and asked them to be ready with whatever they could strike, knife, anything that they could to defend themselves.
Suddenly, the firing increased, and the commotion was running towards our tents before my grandfather and the men could run forward. Two-3 militants entered the tent where my mother and I were hiding. They took us hostage and warned my grandfather to misguide the Army men who were chasing them. Helpless against the self-respect of his daughter-in-law and the safety of his grandson, my grandfather decided to do as the militants said. Even when obeying the dikats of these militants, there was a faith in his heart that the Indian Army would not let him down, even giving away their own lives, they would save the self-respect of his daughter and her son. Deep in his thoughts, suddenly a few officers approached him. Looking at them, the officers questioned the tribe who they were and what they were doing in the dead of the night in this dangerous jungle. My grandfather introduced himself as the head of the community and informed the officers that, since it was getting dark, they were resting and would resume towards the village in the morning. He spoke to the officer with the utmost confidence and simplicity, thinking about the safety of his family. Kitne log haiaapkesaath the officer enquired. My grandfather said Saheb 20-25 hai hum auratoaurbaccho ko milakar. As soon as he uttered these words, he got tensed. What if the officer made a headcount and inquired about the absence of 2 members, his blood turned into ice? From the nearby tent the nozzle of the gun was pointed towards me and my mother with an occasional nudge towards me. The militants were listening carefully to what was next. Baba yahakhatrahainapneKisikoyaha se bhaagtedekhakya- 2 bacchethea phiran pehene hue. My grandfather nodded his head in the affirmative. OK, the officer said aap khayal rakhiyeaur jitney jaldi ho yaha se chalejaye saying that he went in the other direction.
In his heart, my grandfather was praying for a miracle. 10 minutes passed by, and the militants came out of the tent dragging my mother and me. He used a choice of words for the Army and told my grandfather aap ke liyee kinam hai and before he could refuse, they pushed me to the ground and, with the butt of the rifle, started hitting me in my legs. I cried in pain. It was as if the lighting was striking my whole body. Sambhaloissay saying they left me and started dragging my mother, taking her with them. Bleeding from my legs, crying in immense pain and wailing for my mother, my grandfather pleaded with them to spare my mother. His pleas didn’t affect them. Lust had taken over them and they were just dragging her. Helpless, my grandfather was looking at her, trying to stop me from running towards her. Suddenly, his world had come crashing down. Such was the tremor of these militants that no one from the tribe even tried to challenge or stop them. Everyone had turned into stone. Whizz a sharp sound broke the wailing, and 1 militant was shot in the head. Before he could react, the 2nd one who was holding my mother was down too.
Every member of the tribe looked in just 1 direction and, as if Messiah was making an entry and the surroundings illuminated his presence, we saw the officer and his men enter. My grandfather could not believe his eyes. When his mind had lost hope, his heart had faith that these Army men would not let him down. His heart won against his mind and his faith came true. Even after so much of convincing by my grandfather, the officer could make out something was amiss in his version. He could smell the fear, the helplessness in the voice of my grandfather. Judging the complexity of the situation, he decided to take a detour to find out the actual truth. He had not gone anywhere but was a spectator at a distance. Looking at a child being hit, and women being disrespected, his blood boiled, but his training had taught him to attack, to kill. He took position with his men, waited for the right opportunity where there would be no collateral damage and when he was sure of it, he strikes to Kill. Such was his aim that there was no chance that the target could survive.Once it was confirmed that the threat was neutralized, there was a mobilization to take me to the hospital in the golden hours to save my legs. It was the effort and bravery of these officers in the nick of time that my mother was saved, and I was spared from being a handicap. This was the incident of Faith against Fear. I had tears in my eyes. What if the Army men had not returned?
The third militant who was hiding inside the tent was trembling when the officer and his men entered. Looking at him, the officer's heart reached out to the child. The young boy was hardly 14-15 years old and was trembling. Seeing the men in uniform started sobbing. The officer kept a reassuring hand on his head and in the calmest voice asked him, Beta kya naam hai aap kaghabraonahikuchnahikarenge. Hearing those reassuring kind words, the wall broke inside the child. He fell on the feet of the officer and started sobbing Muje bacha lijiye Mujeapne Walid ke pass janahai. He was given water and taken away.Later we came to know that the 3rd militant had taken this path of destruction due to fear of himself and his family. The trainers had abducted him from the house at gunpoint, threatening to kill his whole family and rape the women of the house if he didn’t accompany them. The fear of losing his loved ones made him walk the path of militancy against his wishes. But that day when the Army officer spoke to him and tried to understand his situation, there was a sense of calmness that took over. We got to know that he had been given fair treatment and efforts were made to give him a new normal life. He had walked on the wrong path because of fear, but it was Faith which made him realize that he could repent his mistake and live a good life. What would have happened to my mother and what about me? I would be a handicap, a burden to my whole family. The day I decided I would not surrender to fear but would have faith in the protectors of our land. Let there be many sermons and preaching from across the border or within the village, we will never be lured with money and women. I will be a companion to these brave army men, their navigators, who will help them chart the map to stop infiltration, bloodshed and chaos. The knowledge of the routes and hidden terrain passed on to me by my ancestors will be shared with these Men of Honour. It will be my small contribution to making my land and my country safe. It will be a steppingstone for people like me and an example of unguided youths choosing the right path. We will unmask the intentions of those people who conduct the Proxy war against the government.Our faith in our Army will stand tall and guard us against all fears.
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