Cogito ergo sum

I woke up early on Christmas morning and couldn’t believe my eyes. I didn’t see any soldiers on the roads; no tanks and guns, no sound of bombings. After 5 long years would I have a real Christmas. I wondered. Yes it was 5 years ago that it all started, when my world came crumbling around me…….
Historically speaking, Kashmir has never been peaceful since independence. Over the years it has gained a reputation of being a terrorist-infested region where people from other parts of my motherland would think twice before venturing into. And yet we never felt threatened or frustrated about our lives. That’s the beauty of us, Kashmiris. We live in such complete harmony that the outside world won’t believe if I said that the place where I lived was, in my eyes, was one of the most peaceful places to live in!
Ours was one of the very few Christian families living in the tiny town of Drass, which is a part of Kargil district. Kargil was one of the districts of Ladakh Wazarat Province before the Partition of Ladakh in 1947. The other two districts of Ladakh Wazarat were Skardo Baltistan and Leh Central Ladakh. Today, Kargil is one of the districts of Ladakh region in the Indian state of Jammu and Kashmir. Kargil lies on the line of control facing Pakistan Controlled Kashmir's region of Baltistan. Zanskar is part of Kargil district along with Suru, Wakha and Drass valleys. Despite our drastic minority (in terms of religion), we never once felt out of place.
My father, Jebez Fernandez, used to travel daily up to the Zojila pass (which falls on the national highway connecting Leh and Srinagar) to sell dry-fruits and home-made wines. My mother, Sheila was a teacher at the local girls’ school, in which I had completed my schooling—a rather proud feat at that time, considering the dismal literacy rate among Kashmiri girls. Dad used to tell me that I inherited my self-respect and sense of independence from my mom. I had always wanted to become a writer—I’ve always felt that Kashmir (or the whole of India, for that matter) is a hotbed for so many stories untold….
But at that point in time, I was less interested in my prospects as a writer and more interested in expressing my feeling to Pervez, for I was sure of one thing—he was too shy to admit his feelings; so if one of us had to take the initiative, I had to be the one. As a result, I did not find it amoral to take a swig of wine from the innumerable vats that were stored in the attic. I don’t remember how much I had drunk. I was tasting it for the first time, and honestly, I hated it. But I thought (rather hoped) that it would give me enough courage coupled with some innocent shamelessness with which I was planning to surprise Pervez.
One of the main reasons why Kargil was specifically targeted for incursions was its terrain lent itself to a pre-emptive seizure. With tactically vital features and well-prepared defensive posts atop the peaks, it provided an ideal high ground for a defender akin to a fortress. Any attack to dislodge the enemy and reclaim high ground in a mountain warfare would require a far higher ratio of attackers to defenders, which is further exacerbated by the high altitude and freezing temperatures. All these worldly affairs didn’t seem to me as I was determined to meet Pervez at our regular place and was walking at a brisk pace (despite my rather inebriated state).
And then it happened. The first and last thing that registered in my mind was a heavy object hitting the back of my head, known as the medulla oblongata-I had learnt in a science class. It was all over in a flash.

I was not sure how long I slept (they say I was in coma for a period of 5 years). I also know now, that I was hit by the bomb hurled by cross-border militants and that it was the beginning of what we now know as the Kargil war.
When I opened my eyes at the hospital bed, there was darkness everywhere-hence I couldn’t see any soldiers outside. I couldn’t hear bombings because I cannot hear anything now. They say my sensory organs got irreversibly damaged in the blast and that I can never see or hear again. But I have reason to celebrate—I have become conscious again for the first time in more than 5 years. Isn’t it wonderful?