I lay here in rest/unrest, unmarked

They know not where I am,

They keep searching for me.

I try to tell them I lay here, beneath my own soil, with many more like me,

They cannot hear.

“At 38 places visited in north Kashmir, there were 2,156 unidentified dead bodies buried in unmarked graves,” the inquiry report published by the Indian government’s Jammu and Kashmir State Human Rights Commission (J&KSHRC) said.

Yet another revelation which would leave a common Kashmiri thinking, wondering if it is true. It all seems to be an illusive situation, which one would never believe. Those who hear are left gasping, they can’t digest it.

But we, here in Kashmir, have learnt to believe everything, however inhuman it may sound.

We have been subdued when we tried to unite

We have been quietened when we tried to speak

We are used to helpless situations

We are used to domination

Thinking of it, one goes through immeasurable torment, yet we have learnt to live with this never healing wound.

Although accustomed to all the oppression and prejudice we still demand justice.

‘Justice’ is something I would never associate with Kashmir. Growing up here, I never heard of it. I could only feel its absence.

When I die, they’ll carry me on their shoulders draped in a white shroud.

Wailing, screaming, my mother and sisters, calling after me, wanting me to come back.

They’ll bury me and pray, pray to Allah for granting me Jannah and forgive all my sins.

I was killed at their hands, murdered by those who rule over me in my own land.

I contemplate and fail to understand why, I have been wasted.

There is no one to carry me, no one to cry.

I am deprived of my last rites. No prayers for me.

They hide me along with the others, there are too many.

Back home my mother keeps waiting, anticipating my return.

She wouldn’t believe I have died. She’s certain I still exist,

I do, but I might not be able to prove it to her.

She awaits her ‘disappeared’ son like so many others,

He has already reached his final abode.

He lies there in rest/unrest,

Hoping for justice, something which he never heard of in his land.