I AM A TERRORIST

I withered around like a free bird. Problems were not of my genre as happiness used to cuddle around me. Mountains were my home and monks were my best mates. The whole nature was my home. People called it the heaven of India----Kashmir.

But, the azure was harmed. Not once or twice but continuously. Every day, every moment, the tea cups would shiver. The sudden thud could be felt in the small huts on the hills. Leading a simple life, I prayed in the temples, attended the azaan in the mosques and loved to ring the bells of monasteries. They never made a difference. I loved flying the kites that soared high like my dreams.  Flying carelessly as far as possible, no limits. One day, a cut kite was swaying and was about to fall. I ran behind it in excitement to catch it and make it mine. Running hard through the forests and thrashing through the bushes but it was out of my reach. The sun was tired and was leaving for the day when it landed in one of the cottages. I don’t know what attracted me but I deliberately wanted to take away that kite. I tiptoed into that cottage to find my belonging but I found something else. Guns, grenades, launchers, all types of ammunitions which was at par of my then small brain. The scene made me terrified and I trembled seeing all this. I picked up the kite and ran away without taking a sight of anywhere.

Days went by but the sight of all those weapons kept hunting me. I kept on telling abbu and ammi, but nobody gave a damn about my behavior. As time passed by, my thought started to get neutralized. I resisted myself from thinking about all negative thoughts that would harm my place and my nature. Suddenly, the day arrived when I woke up to a sudden blast that happened in the mountains. Firing of guns and grenades being thrown from both sides, I didn’t know who was positive or negative, but I knew that something wrong was happening. Unstoppable and intolerable sights of slaughtering of men, killing of innocents could be seen everywhere. But, the news said that everything was under control and Kashmir was now safe. The tension started reducing and people got back their smiles. Greenery returned back. But, the sigh of relief was too short. I was enjoying with my friends playing here and there. Dishes and delicacies were being served and people hugged each other after attending the prayers. Eid was being celebrated each and everywhere. Maulana sahib spoke about harmony and asked our parents to send us for studying in his house. They called it madrasa where small children were taught how to read and write, how to bring good manners and respect all religion irrespective of places. I could see some people coming from the valleys carrying loads of luggage with them.  My innocent mind was unable to understand all these scenes. At night, we had a camp fire where all families of the villages sat and were enjoying the moments.

Some vague shaped heads could be seen from a distance and before I could react, people started falling as the bullets were being showered on them. Child or adult, male or female, nobody was spared. Each one faced the rampage that was going on. I along with some of my friends ran towards our houses, but they were blown away in front of us. I saw my abbu lying with bullets in his chest. Ammi couldn’t be seen as she was inside the house when all these massacre happened. Close to my house, I could see a burnt hand that resembled that of my mother. Last rights were done and army people came to provide us food and supplements and to guard our village for safety. But, nothing was left. All have gone away. The ministers came and did a photoshoot coverage where they promised us for shelters and proper studies. Fake promises were made which were never fulfilled. 

Maulana sahib took us to their quarters and served us with food. He gave us clothes and place to sleep. We were taught and brought up as we stayed there for some years. Always there used to be several calls coming to him and he would reply that the children were safe. I used to wonder, who was so worried about us. Group of people used to come and visit us. They loved our progress. They were introduced to us  as big people who sponsored us for our studies and living. The day arrived when Maulana told us to pack our bags and we were leaving to some other place for our studies. We were reluctant as we would miss this place where we were born and our parents resided and died in front of our eyes. We were made to sit in a bus and curtains were put everywhere so that we could not notice the route. As we got down, we could see the same group of people standing there smiling and hugging us. We were then made to see videos of Islamic people being killed and slaughtered all over the world. They were asking for mercy but nobody even cared. Nobody cared about the religion as the people were killed while reading namaz. My blood started boiling seeing all this and I was not able to resist my anger. They told us about the motive of our religion and the people who killed our families. They pointed out the army and told that they were the main reason for the massacre. The army were the pawns but the main culprit was the government who wanted our religion to get extinct. Islam religion should not exist. America was pointed, so was India. Russia was their treasurer and Germany supported it. Kashmir was never a part of India and Pakistan had cried and begged to take it back. But, always we got the blood of our sisters and brothers in return. The sessions were successful as we started walking on their footprints and sweared to make Kashmir free and teach the Indians a lesson. 

Year after year we were trained to be the best. We helped as the messengers in America and travelled with big people to see the real India. Our training now got a new stage now. We were now trained in firing. All types of arms and ammunitions were available that I once saw when I was a child and got horrified. Bombs and grenades were taught and how to deactivate and activate all types of bombs.

It was now time to initiate and test our capabilities. We were taught the meaning of namaz and the role we need to play. We went as professionals into the country. Delhi was our target and we were furious to take the revenge.  A havoc was created with our firings and we killed people mercilessly. Child or adult, male or female, nobody was spared. Police and army rushed but we kept on killing and killing. I lost some of my friends but I escaped back into my territory. Our authorities were happy with my bravery and I Kept on getting promoted the way I used to initialize my plans. The revenge never ended as the army attacked on us and we lost our people whom we idealized. There was a mourns hovering above us as there was no one to handle us and show the way. The meeting was set and even I was a part as I was promoted some days back. They wanted some young enthusiasts and they chose me as the mastermind for the next operation. They told me the importance of the revenge and why they chose me. I was happy to take the charge and started planning something big and nasty.  I took me a year to train the best and activate the plan and to make it a success, I even decided to get past the odds and walk along with my pawns. There was not a single place but many cities under our eyes for the attack. One by one we wanted to give them the shock.

1.       Chennai

2.       Hyderabad

3.       Bangalore

4.       Mumbai

The plan would take some time and we settled for some months as elections was going on. Our first target was a success and the happiness made me more excited, so I wanted to travel myself and be a part of Hyderabad scenes. I targeted the slums and some targeted the malls. We broke into the place and created the same havoc as expected. But, the scenes of my childhood started repeating in front of me. As a small Muslim child ran and I could see his house on fire. He sobbed badly on the corpses of his parents and fainted there itself. I don’t know what happened to me. But was I wrong?? I started retrospections and joining the dots. I flied back to Mumbai and started to make some moves. I went back to the killing that happened in my village in past years. The result made me realize my mistakes. The same organizations were connected and the Maulana was their leader. Holy shit. I couldn’t believe what I saw. I started hating myself of what I have done to the world. How I have killed the innocents who had nothing to do with these revenge. Bangalore blast was again a success and the time was for Mumbai now. The attackers arrived and waited for my instructions. How could I do this. I disconnected all security insights and made a simple call to initialize the plan so that the police could track me out.

There was no way of escape and I wanted myself to be killed. The fate should laugh on me and life should kick me out. My abbu and ammi had nothing to be proud of me. The army and police could arrive at any time. The news made me feel more awkward. The first blast had happened in oberoi mall and there was no response of police or army at my house. I couldn’t do anything. My satellite phones had started getting messages of treachery and ditching Islam. There was heavy rains all over Mumbai and hence the stagnant people got killed more. No terrorist would have waited so dearly for the army personnel and to get killed. But, I knew they would not arrive in an ordinary way.

It was getting late enough to be worried. I once again stepped into the balcony and looked down. 

Except for a drenched street dog that was lying down miserably near the gate, there was not a soul to be seen anywhere. Rain water had puddled under the lamp post. A breeze ruffled the mango tree in the courtyard and a few twigs fell down and broke. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Did I hear a soft knock at the door? I turned back and I knew that it was the time for my departure. I started remembering my childhood, my parents and my house which was once my total world. I certainly missed my kite flying and running in the forest. The free bird was now to be hunted down. The knocks became more deadly and after a certain time it broke open and laser lights flashed at each part of my body. I sensed a bullet in my chest and then many piercing my body before I fell on my ground. Finally, the virus was cleared from the world and I have kept everything open so that get each and every information.

The sun was setting, so was me. I prayed to god to make me an Indian again, but this time to serve my country. The tag was very heavy that I carried but I am proud to die in my motherland.

But, the truth is……. I am a terrorist.