When I met a Kashmiri Boy.

This is a story about when I met a 19 year old Kashmiri boy.

I met this boy in a spa that I had gone to. He was lured into believing that the job that he was currently doing would be related to the physiotherapy training that he had undergone, before joining his current employers. It’s an honourable job. But, the betrayal in his face was telling. He couldn't leave because his employer or the agent, who got him this job, had confiscated his certificates.

He told me a story of the first time he came to my city. He tried calling the agent who promised him the job. He wouldn't answer. He tried getting in touch with him over and over again. He didn't answer. The agent had taken a sum of money from him before he left Srinagar. So, this boy wanted to know whether he had been duped or not.

Finally, when he got in touch with him, he managed to get him his current job. Like I said before, he thought it involved the physiotherapy training he had undergone previously. Instead, he became a masseur. But he is a hard worker. He sends money home from his earnings to his parents.

He tried to get a mobile SIM card when he realized that he was spending someone else’s money (his cousin) on making calls to his parents, or trying to get in touch with the agent who got him this job. But, when he went to a shop to get a new SIM card, another obstacle awaited him. The man at the store wouldn't give him a SIM card. He wouldn't tell him why. This boy went to the same store for over a week. And the shop owner would just ask him to go away and not bother him.

One day, he couldn't take it anymore. He blew his top and said these words to the shop owner, “Do you not want to sell me a SIM card because you think I am a terrorist?” And he started bawling. He couldn't control himself. He told the shop owner that he would never come back to his shop to buy a SIM card.

Apparently, this man, who refused to give him the SIM card, made sure that he got him that SIM. The boy refused, but eventually gave in. Something must have hurt the shop owner. Those words “do you think I am a terrorist” would have rankled inside. Maybe, he had to face a similar situation in his life. I think he empathized with the boy’s plight. I don’t know. This is what I could gather from my conversation with the kid.

Now, that shop owner invites the boy to his home for every festival that he celebrates in his house. The boy told me that he’s the first person that gets invited to the home of the shop owner, when his wife makes biryani.

So far so good right? There’s more.

This boy said something to me that changed my whole understanding of the Kashmir conflict. He said that he had got a job in a bank in Mumbai, but his parents had refused him permission because the banking business is against their religion. I don’t understand the nitty-gritty of religions, so I won’t/didn’t comment more on that. He then tried to get out of the valley because he had to take care of his parents, who were getting old now. They needed money for subsistence. This boy, the dutiful son that he is, strives to provide that subsistence. And then the story about him reaching my city follows.

He said something in this context that jolted me. I’ll try to paraphrase him. He said that since he was born in India, he was an Indian. He couldn't understand why people wouldn't treat him like one. He wanted to be an Indian. He categorically said to me that he wasn't anything but Indian. But, his frustration of not being given a SIM card made him wonder why people wouldn't identify him as one. Was it because of the address that he had mentioned when he tried to get the SIM card from the shop? That was the only official papers that he carried with him. It was all he had to prove his identity.

This makes me wonder whether what he hear coming out of the media and other sources about the troubled state of our northern most state is politically coloured. Everybody has their own view. But, this kid who I met by chance couldn't understand why his identity was being tarnished by others. His identity was based on the politics of the region. His identity was based in the religion that his parents raised him with. His identity was based on the address that was mentioned in his official documents that his state government had issued to him, which made sure that he couldn't get a SIM card when he wanted.

My point is this. Do we really look into all the different aspects of a problem? Or do we just parrot our acquired wisdom and propagate many lies that might be contained in them? I am not saying I am right, and everyone else is wrong. Never will I go down that road. But, how does our opinion and bickering solve the problem of a boy, who comes with great hope to a city where there are a lot of jobs. But, he can’t get a SIM card because of the address that is mentioned in his only identification document.

I don’t know the answer.