Memoricide

Dignity and dissent are under constant attack as Kashmiris wake up each day to learn new ways in which their memory and resistance do not matter

- Ather Zia

IT is no news anymore that the bodies, homes, streets, waters, and skies in Kashmir are increasingly militarised and heavily policed. Indian laws brand the length and breadth of the territory with impunity. Breaths are counted, and steps are measured. Every inch is surveilled by new technological and traditional intelligencegathering methods. Everything is recorded; digital platforms to CCTVs are capturing even a sigh made aloud. Nothing that does not please the Indian state is allowed.

Kashmiris have historically been censored, and now it is less discreet and getting worse. Censorship is fully institutionalised by law. Journalists and writers of critical worth, if not jailed, are refraining from public critique.

Human rights activists and civil society leaders are curtailed, and many are incarcerated. Archives are disappearing; self-censorship and retractions are rampant. 

Freedom of expression is just that, an expression. Silence in Kashmir is deafening. It is a new era of good old silencing.

Resistance is another name for Kashmir. Amidst such silencing, where does it live?

Mostly alive in all hearts. Dissent is not dead but kept well-guarded. Often heard, bloody in jungles and ravines. Over centuries of subjugation, Kashmiris have grown ghost chambers in their hearts. The regular ones have the physical function of pumping blood to the body, while the phantom ones safeguard the spirit of resistance against hegemonic powers.