The state is afraid of internet in Kashmir. The state is afraid of social networking sites. The state is afraid of peoples’ thoughts. The state is afraid of peoples’ access to Facebook, Twitter, Youtube. The state is afraid of status updates; the state is afraid of anti-state comments. The state wants total thought-control in Kashmir.
The state continues to be afraid of an SMS in Kashmir. The state is afraid of Kashmiris on the streets, marching together, asking for their rights. The state is even afraid of kids in Kashmir (The state, however, is not afraid of slapping PSAs on kids). The state is afraid of increased Kashmiri presence in the virtual world. The state is afraid of an independent Kashmiri thought. The state is afraid of an independent scholar who engages with the truth inKashmir. The state is afraid of an independent activist, or a scholar, whose stay in Kashmir is longer than the stay of tourists – the one who stays in Kashmir long after the tourists have left. The state is afraid when he or she, skipping tourist attractions like Gulmarg and Pahalgam, prefers to visit and probe the sites of mass graves in remote villages. The state is afraid of those who ask for justice before development. The state is afraid of those who ask uncomfortable questions about the dead, the disappeared, and the mass graves in Kashmir.
The state is afraid of its open critique. The state is afraid of an independent, fearless newspaper. The state is afraid of an Azadi-pasand Kashmiri. The state is afraid of a thinking Kashmiri. The state is afraid of a protesting Kashmiri. The state is also afraid of a non-violent Kashmiri. The state is afraid of an argumentative Kashmiri. The state is afraid of disagreement with the state. The state is afraid of anti-state graffiti on the streets. The state is afraid of solidarity with the Kashmir cause. The state is even afraid of allowing a semblance of freedom.
The state is afraid of allowing any other politics in the Kashmir University campus other than encouraging the mainstream discourse. The state is afraid of a teacher who includes a political question in an elementary school textbook or in an exam paper. The state is afraid of a scholar who wants to research on the question of right to self-determination in KashmirUniversity. The state is afraid of allowing a human rights course inKashmirUniversity. The state is afraid of Kashmiri students who are not ‘neutral’, who ask all the inconvenient questions to the visiting politicians. When Rahul Ghandi visits KashmirUniversity, the state is afraid of those students who, without caring about their career, ask those prohibited questions: “what about mass graves, Rahul Ghandi?”… “Why didn’t we see you here when people were shot at on the streets, when over 100 unarmed people were killed by your ‘security’ forces in 2010?… “How can you build bridges over our dead bodies?”
And if you ask too many questions, the state will see you as a ‘security threat’. The state wants you to be afraid—be very afraid—of its power. And if you are still not afraid of the State, the state is afraid of you. The state is watching you – online, offline; on the street, away from the street – as you think all those anti-state thoughts.
The state wants you to believe that the State is not afraid of you.
