Can I Ever Meet You Again Dad?
A Conversation between me and my Mirror
Me: Have you ever been uncertain of tomorrow, I asked the mirror?
Mirror: I see tomorrow as you want me to look. Like your Kashmir, I have no choice. I am at your command.
Me: O' Mirror I wasn't like this you know very well. After every two days, I used to call my family. I looked happy after talking to them. Much relieved and lighter. Don't you know that?
Mirror: Yes, I know. This wait could last longer. Don't kneel down to the circumstances created by the tyrants.
Me: O'Mirror you know I have none to share with when I am alone, no twitter, no WhatsApp or Facebook. I only have you to talk to, so give me the courage. This wait is taking ages. Who knows who is alive and who is dead.
Mirror: No, don't lose hope. No matter how tomorrow looks like and you have to start afresh. Revolutions and renaissance take time, consumes people and is often thirsty for blood.
Me: Does that mean I can never see my dad again? Should I bid goodbye to my hopes? Should I bid adieu to my identity being a Kashmiri and not an Indian?
Mirror: Never stop dreaming of your family. Dreams are the hope life is made of. Be brave and keep your hopes alive. With this, the alarm rang and I started my day with a renewed hope. Besides, worrying about my identity and people I have to hunt every day, to keep going and surviving. I left for work with the hope, I can get a call my home which is surrounded monsters, armed goons and so-called democratic thugs.