Avoid Mob Takeover

Back in the late 2000’s, I read an interesting book by William Ury The Third Side(1999). An anthropologist and a negotiation expert, Ury provides many real life examples to show practical ways of intervening between warring parties, be it in a family or outside. As he says, ‘it takes two sides to fight, but a third to stop.’

At that time, the book gave me a good feeling because, on many occasions, I had played that ‘third side’ role. But it also made me realise that our society, by and large, had this innate feature which instinctively activate itself on occasions like road side quarrels to diffuse a situation from turning nasty. You would see people intervening, saying things like “hey ladai ma’sa kariv…”, “hey laayuss ma…”, “hey ye chui gatchan galath…”, “hey thayivsa wan…”, “hey kehn chuina…”.

Basically, these words have a potential effect to cool down the tempers. These interventions do work, most of the times, especially if the words come from an elder or a respectable person.

I used to think that because in our society people often volunteer to play the ‘third side,’ that may explain why we see less nasty fights in Kashmir. Over the time, however, I did read many headlines which made me skeptical about my initial assessment. Just recently I read: “Man kills brother over land dispute in Tral.”

The conflict related deaths and violent incidents were always there, but it was difficult to conceive of a ‘third side’ in that volatile political dynamic, other than the ‘international community.’

However, I do remember, during the highly charged period of 2010 unrest, a policeman found himself cornered in our street. Before enraged young men could thrash him, someone wrapped arms around the cop and took him inside a residential house. He was given water and assured of safety. During the same time, one fine morning, I saw how a middle aged man intervened and save a cab driver from being thrashed by soldiers. This man literary came in between the charging army man and the driver, shouting: “What is his fault?” Sensing possible protest, troops let the driver go.

As Ury says, there are many reasons why fights break out. It could be anger or fear; people may believe they are firmly in the right, or they might think they are stronger and will prevail in the fight. But, what was the cause of the fight near Jamia Masjid on Lailat-ul-Qadr, which eventually led death of the police officer? And most importantly, why didn’t any one play the ‘third side’? Or if anyone did, why couldn’t it stop the fight, or at least why couldn’t policeman’s life be saved? These are the questions which only an independent, impartial investigation can answer.

Elders say it was unprecedented in Kashmir. It received wide condemnation. “Deeply disturbed and condemn the brutal act at Nowhatta. Mob violence and public lynching is outside the parameters of our values and religion,” Mirwaiz Umar Farooq tweeted. “We cannot allow state brutality to snatch our humanity and values.”

But on social media, opinions were mixed. Some people threw accusations of ‘selective condemnation’ at those who showed outrage at this incident but “remained silent at the Kakapora killings” and many such cases? Some used this to blame the Azadi movement in general; Indian electronic media seized the moment to double-up its noise, painting whole Kashmiri society as barbaric, but conveniently ignoring the incidents of lynching which have been regularly happening in their own backyard.

Since this incident came on the heels of Kakapor encounter where three young Kashmiri rebels, Shakir (18), Irshad (17) and Majid (19), were killed and their bodies charred, a feeling of disgust, shock, and anger had already swept around.

But one thing should be made very clear: Ayub was beaten to death; it was barbaric, reprehensible and cannot be justified. A friend wrote on Facebook: “Even if he was an intelligence cop, he didn’t deserve a death like that.” It is not what we Kashmiris are known for, and this must never happen again.

I know like any good society Kashmiri community is also inherently generous and hospitable. We have demonstrated what is good in us time and again (e.g., 2014 floods) and many non-Kashmiris can vouch for that. We believe in helping each other, we believe in sharing things, celebrating and mourning together, and we believe in taking khabar of each other. These are our values and traditions and we cherish them.

Though details are still awaited, reports so far reveal that it was a mob which killed Ayub. This should alarm us. How come we let a mob kill somebody on an auspicious night? The circumstances in which Ayub was killed are complex. But we must be careful because given the tumultuous situation in Kashmir.

Social psychologists argue, in a crowd, people experience ‘deindividuation’ (i.e. loss of self-awareness). It happens in the highly excited state of being inside a crowd, and it leads to “anti-normative and dis-inhibited behaviour”, i.e. the normal restraint and inhibition weakens.

We need to reinforce our societal mechanism of ‘third side’ and not let ‘mob mentality’ get the better of us, whatever the circumstances. And, at the same time, we should not let others manipulate this incident to caricature us or diminish the justness of our political struggle.

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First published in Kashmir Life on 19 July 2017: http://kashmirlife.net/avoid-mob-takeover-146211/

Decoding Barkha Dutt’s Understanding of Azadi Movement in Kashmir

On 6 June 2017, influential newspaper The Washington Post published an Indian journalist Barkha Dutt’s article “Why the world no longer cares about Kashmir.” The article generated quite a discussion on social media platforms where Dutt’s arguments were discussed, evaluated, and criticised. Here, I seek to critically evaluate her article. But instead of looking at her arguments per se my aim is to examine the discursive strategies that Dutt has used to construct her arguments. Specifically, I will analyse the central components of her overall framing of the Kashmiri freedom struggle.

Before getting started, here are brief, though limited, descriptions of some academic jargons which would be inevitably used for analytical purposes in this review:

Presupposition: shared or presupposed knowledge about something which is assumed to be true, known, or taken for granted. Ideologies are naturalised through presuppositions (for example, in the sentence “Our five thousand years old civilization has seen many turns,” it is presumed that the civilisation was really five thousand years old)

Predication:  ascribing attributes, qualities and features to people, phenomena or entities through use of adjectives, adverbs that modifies the subject (for example, the adjective/adverb radicalised in “radicalised young men are protesting”)

Mitigation and intensification: modification of language in a way that it either mitigates or intensifies illocutionary force of what is being said (for example, using vague expressions and euphemisms, or hyperboles and strong words, or quotations marks and indirect speech)

Argumentation: justifying or questioning a normative position or claims of truth (for example, “global warming has changed weather patterns and we need to tackle this problem”)

Nomination: linguistically naming or categorizing subjects, phenomena or entities (for example, “Bhaghat Singh, the terrorist who killed a British officer,” or “student protestors blocked the road”)

Taking these discursive strategies as a framework, now let’s see how Barkha Dutt frames the Azadi movement in Kashmir in her Washington Post article. Here, eight main sentences from her 800-word article are reproduced:

  1. “Schoolgirls in headscarves have joined male agitators on the street.” Here, Kashmiri women’s dress item ‘headscarves’ is emphasised and they are said to have “joined” male agitators, presuming Kashmiri women do not organise protests independently. When located in the current global context of increased Islamophobia, a following inference can be drawn from the statement: headscarves-wearing women are religiously-inclined which presupposes they have been radicalised, hence they are protesting. In other words, Dutt seems to convey that schoolgirls are protesting because they have been radicalised and the evidence of their being radicalised is that they wear headscarves.
  2. “India’s human rights record in the landlocked valley was subjected to constant international scrutiny; Indian diplomats had to contend with uncomfortable questions on Kashmir.” Here, mitigation strategy is used: euphemisms like ‘record’ and ‘uncomfortable questions’ underplay the serious issue of human rights abuses in Kashmir. No statistics or representative cases about human rights abuses are cited.
  3. “This is despite recent controversies such as the Indian Army’s use of a local civilian, Farooq Ahmad Dar, as a human shield on a military jeep.” Here again mitigation strategy is used through the use of euphemistic term ‘controversies,’ because what is being termed as controversy is actually a war crime. Also, there is seemingly a deliberate omission about what international law says about human shield issue and how the majority of Indian public celebrated this war crime.
  4. “The bottom line: Kashmir is no longer an issue that Pakistan can get the world to take notice of.” Here, Kashmir conflict is not seen as an issue of political demands coming from Kashmiris themselves but as an issue which Pakistan is pushing.
  5. “The creeping radicalization of many young men agitating on Kashmir’s streets has also kept the world at bay.” Presupposition, nomination, and intensification strategies are used here: Islamist bogey is subtly raised; ‘agitating young men’ are presupposed to be ‘radicalised’ and they are not seen as social actors with varied political subjectivities. It potentially draws this inference: While as a non-Muslim can be a radical in a non-religious way (Communist etc., like Che Guevara), but radicalisation is not legitimate in relation to Muslims because Muslims being radical necessarily means being Islamist.
  6. “The more the next generation of Kashmir’s protesters become part of a global Internet “ummah,” invoking religion ahead of rights, the less the world is likely to engage with them.”
    Again, presupposition strategy is used, because it is presumed that next generation Kashmiris are invoking religion ahead of rights. And also, Kashmiri protestors are essentialized i.e., all Kashmiri protestors think, act and behave the same way.
  7. “Of course, none of this lightens India’s moral burden to be accountable to our own standards of democracy and human rights in Kashmir.” Presupposition and predication strategies are used here: ascribing a positive identity to India (democracy) and effectively obfuscating its colonial project and militarised occupation in Kashmir. The use of “our own standards” seems a deliberate attempt to distinguish between “international standards” and “India’s standards,” with the latter seemingly trying to rule out any Scotland type referendum in Kashmir. A sentence like “none of this lightens India’s moral burden to be accountable to international standards of democracy and human rights in Kashmir” would be qualitatively different.
  8. “There is no military solution, and India will have to develop a dialogue mechanism to talk to rage-filled, disenchanted Kashmiris.” Once again predication and nomination strategies are employed: ascribing negative attributes to Kashmiris through use of adverb ‘rage-filled.’ Use of a vague term like ‘disenchanted Kashmiris’ seeks to obfuscate the real political demands of Azadi which majority of Kashmiris have been raising.

 

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First published by WithKashmir on 9 June 2017: http://withkashmir.org/2017/06/09/decoding-barkha-dutts-understanding-of-azadi-movement-in-kashmir/

 

The Conflict, The Crisis, and the Kashmiri Youth

As part of my research work, I had a brief email correspondence with two Kashmiri students last year. Their short replies, I think, afford a glimpse of sorts in understanding those sublime aspects and implications of political uprisings which tend to remain obscured, or be taken for granted. I know just two anecdotes cannot be basis for generalization, but they seem to point to a broader phenomena, which may allow us to understand some of the aspects of the youth activism in the Indian-controlled Kashmir. The messages are produced verbatim here:

…just before 2016 unrest, I was alien to all the dirty kitchen politics and their executors, the freedom movement, the history of my nation, article 370, AFSPA, and so on. It so happened in these few months that I underwent such a psychological transformation that I seem to be more interested in the movement rather than science. (A female postgrad science student from Srinagar)

I am a 17-year-old. Although I have not seen the militancy era of Kashmir during the 90s but I’ve been witness to events like 2008, 2010, and the recent turmoil in 2016 in Kashmir. Like most of other Kashmiri kids, I became interested in words like ‘Freedom’….’Azadi’… ‘Pakistan’ ‘conflict’…etc. from my childhood. I first started writing when I was about 13 years old.   (A male teenage student from Srinagar)

When I read the first email for the first time I thought: here is a young Kashmiri reflecting on and, succinctly articulating, the state of affairs in her homeland. But as I came back to the message later, I realized that it says more. It does not just merely express peculiarities of the Kashmiri politics from a particular individual’s point of view, but it also talks about “a psychological transformation.”

And this concept of psychological transformation is an important one in case of Kashmir. It provides a potential clue about how a person turns into an active participant from being a passive bystander. Of course, this ‘active’ here does not mean political action on the streets but becoming conscious about the conflict, relating with it, and ultimately taking and articulating a position vis-a-vis the conflict.

The second email manifests a conflict narrative, which has its distinct vocabulary and lexicon. This narrative derives as much from the lived experiences of the military occupation as from the culture which enables this narrative.

In the remaining part of this short essay, I will first briefly discuss the idea of passivity in a military occupation, and then I will talk about the narrative culture, which a generation produces in the unique circumstances of its traumatic experience.

Passivity in a Context

When the female student (quoted above) talked about her psychological transformation, we can assume that there was a period of her political passiveness (conscious, cultivated, unconscious?) prior to the 2016 uprising. This preceding period of passivity can be analysed by borrowing the concept of crisis as context from the political anthropologist, Henrik Vigh (2008), who states: “We need to depart from our regular understanding of crisis and trauma as momentary and particularized phenomena and move toward an understanding of critical states as pervasive contexts rather than singular events.”

When a difficult situation (e.g., war, military occupation) perpetuates and normalises itself in a place over a time, it tends to make people, who live under its shadows, adapt to it (some get co-opted). However, that does not mean resistance against such condition terminates itself indefinitely. Adaptation under hard and chronic conditions can be seen as a strategic and pragmatic response imposed by mundane necessities of human survival. Since the crisis state is chronic, such a world is not characterised by order and balance but chaos and disorder, which has come to become ordered.

For at least last two generations of Kashmiris, the massively militarised space around them with around half a million Indian troops stationed in Kashmir in thousands of camps is symptomatic of a pervasive context of crisis, where the state inflicts violence on Kashmiri body and psyche on almost daily basis. For young Kashmiris, who grew up in a condition of chronic crisis, the killings, the shootings, the arbitrary detentions, the humiliations, the protests may not seem a disruption of ‘order’ rather an order itself; these may not be aberrant shocking events in an otherwise smooth flow of things. In other words, these events represent, in Vigh’s terms, “…not a short-term explosive situation but a much more durable and persistent circumstance.” In a similar vein, Walter Benjamin writes in his essay, “Theses on the Philosophy of History” (1950): “The tradition of the oppressed teaches us that the ‘state of emergency’ in which we live is not the exception but the rule.”

From the perspective of the Kashmiri youth, their context looks like as one of constant war – because of the seeming irresolution of the Kashmir conflict and the enduring military occupation – and their own condition a state of helplessness to balance and control the exterior forces that influence and affect their possibilities and choices. This exterior force, from their perspective, manifests itself in the form of the militarized spaces, the securitised administration and policies, and the denial of autonomous politics. And, therefore, “[a]s people have to work regaining their possibilities and positions within their social environments,” two crises interact here: societal crisis and the personal crisis. This phenomenon may explain why there is a mental health crisis in the Kashmir valley, with nearly 93% percent people having “experienced conflict-related trauma.”

Moments of Clarity

While some societies may take a long time to externalise their resistance, resistance does find ways to nurture itself through underground and other activities. For example, the Clandestine Press in the Vichy France of the early 1940s. James Scott calls it infrapolitics, which entails concealed, strategic forms of resistance. And in some cases, after a period of latency, resistance manifests itself, when the ‘normalised situation’ is consciously and forcefully disturbed through direct action and the essential nature of the relationship between the occupied and the occupier made evident, thereby revealing the ‘moment of clarity’. During these moments, adaptively pragmatic attitude to the ‘normalised situation’ (of military occupation) is replaced, en masse, by a more proactive resistant assertiveness.  The summer uprisings of 2008, 2010, and 2016 in the Indian-controlled Kashmir can be regarded as those moments of clarity in which the essentially forced relationship between India and Kashmir manifested itself.

The generation that experiences the moments of clarity potentially also produces a unique culture because many of them might internalise the consciousness related to the traumatic event. In Edmunds and Turner’s (2002) conceptualisation, “a generation can be defined in terms of a collective response to a traumatic event or catastrophe that unites a particular cohort of individuals into a self-conscious age stratum.”[1] It is traumatic events (wars, conflicts, economic downturns, etc.) that produce a profound effect on a generation’s consciousness and self-identity. The experiences of trauma are internalized and get sublimated into a unique set of values, interests, and political activities, separating one generation from another generation’s past and becoming “the basis of a collective ideology and a set of integrating rituals.”[2]

Here one can find echoes of Pennebaker and Banasik (1997), who argued that not all historical events register themselves in collective memory of people but only those events that significantly impact the course of people’s lives in long term and bring major institutional changes. They also postulated that national events of significance have much more impact on people of a certain age group (between 12 and 25). But in temporal proximity of the event, the affected generation tends to keep a distance from commemorating it, because coming to terms with the event itself takes away much of time and energy, and also lack of resources (financial, social, and political) does not allow it. I think in the present age, this latter aspect (of commemoration) has changed as social media has become part of the social fabric affording easy and cheaper ways to document and remember.

Though significant traumatic events like uprisings do not occur frequently, but political resistance through formal and informal networks, general strikes – in the last 27 years, from 1990 to 2016, hartal [general strike] has been observed over 2000 times against many events and incidents – curfews, state-imposed restrictions and other aspects of the military occupation, in general, effects a persistent traumatic condition in which not only this narrative culture reinforces itself but also the self-identity of the youth which gets shaped in the process. Though identities (ethnic, gender, class, vocational, etc.) are fluid which can potentially revise over time among the young adults, traumatic events or moments of clarity may accentuate a core identity.

Ultimately, what I tried to point at with the aid of two illustrative quotes above is that pervasive context of crisis affects the possibilities and choices of the youth and their expectations, convictions, desires, anxieties and fears, reflected not only in the political action (like street protests and stone pelting) but also in the narratives and accounts that they produce in response to this context of chronic crisis, which also shapes their self-identity. In the event of a significant political tumult (like uprisings), pragmatic adaptation to the conflict and the concomitant psychological detachment from its politics seem to get ruptured among some passive bystanders, who eventually become manifestly political.

[1] Edmunds and Turner, Generations, Culture and Society (2002), p. 13.

[2] Ibid, p. 13-14.


First published on Cafe Dissensus Magazine, 20 Feb 2017: https://cafedissensus.com/2017/02/20/the-conflict-the-crisis-and-the-kashmiri-youth/

Nothing

You sit and hold your face

On the cusp of your hands

And outside the window

You see nothing

 

Your gaze is firm and intense

On the snow-capped happiness

It shimmers in its whole being

But tell nothing

 

A river races down the meadow

Its sorrow roars and flows

And flows down like a serpent

You listen to what it wants to say

You hear nothing

 

At a far off distance a soul sings

Big willows leaning on its body

You close the window and retreat

For the song says nothing

 

In your dreams

there is a light in the center

It glows and glows eternally

And everything moves towards it

But you

For you watch in silence

perhaps in awe and horror

You are alone, you see around

And there is nothing

 

 

 

24 January 2017

DCU

11:40 pm.

 

 

 

 

 

Between Bharat Mata and Hindustan

There is a debate on whether Hindutva nationalism has mainstreamed in India or it remains confined to the right-wing constituencies. Whatever may be the case, the Majlis-e-Ittehad-ul Muslimeen MLA Waris Pathan’s suspension, through a unanimous nod, by the Maharashtra Assembly is an indication that: there is a thin line between Hindutva nationalism and Indian nationalism. For now, Pathan remains suspended for the entire budget session till April 17: for exercising his right to not to speak certain things he didn’t want to say, as guaranteed by the Indian constitution.

In the double irony – which seems to have become a hallmark of it now – it was the Congress party, with its 42 members, that aggressively demanded the ‘disciplinary’ action against the Muslim legislator, but the same Congress party had strongly criticized the Modi regime’s reactionary behavior during the JNU episode, reasoning that people cannot be forced to accept an exclusivist notion of nationalism! Given the enduring nature and long history of its peculiar politics, the Congress party can, arguably, categorized as an organization with a certain Hindutva streak. Remember notorious Sanjay Gandhi sterilization campaign and the Turkman gate massacre of impoverished Muslims and later Sikh massacre in 1984; opening up of the Babri mosque locks and allowing subsequent vandalism, and other creepy skeletons in its cupboard.

Around 80 years ago, Indian philosopher Rabindranath Tagore, who was a known critique of nationalism, had presciently cautioned his fellow Bengali patriot Subhas Chandra Bose against divisionary and controversial potential of Bande Mataram – a song in Bengali writer Bankim Chandra’s Anandmath – emphasizing that it was a patently religious hymn devoted to the Hindu female deity Durga, and thus one cannot expect “Mussalman… [to] patriotically…worship the ten-handed deity as ‘Swadesh’”. Unlike in a novel, Tagore had written in the letter to Bose, “the song [Bande Mataram] cannot be appropriate” inside the parliament. In 2016, Sangh Parivar and Congress alike do not seem to agree with Tagore.

One of the prominent figures in the India’s freedom movement like Aurobindo Ghosh, before reforming, not only didn’t find merging religion and nationalism as problematic, but in fact, started an ominous tradition of arms worshipping (Shastra puja) through organizations like Anushilan Samiti, and thus tried to make violence as an acceptable form of political action. For Anushilan Samiti members novel Anandmath was an inspiring text as it had explicitly pointed out the real enemy – Muslims – and the ways to fight them. Down in the south of India, Vinayak Savarkar, author of 1923 book Hindutava, reinforced an exclusivist Hindu nationalism, by reasoning that only those people whose matribhu (motherland) and punyabhu (holy land) was same were true Indians. By this Savarkarian logic, Muslims and Christians did not belong, because their holy lands lay, respectively, in Mecca and Jerusalem. In short, they were alien “others”. For both Savarkar and Golwalker, who are considered as the founding fathers of the Indian version of fascism, “Bharat Mata” essentially meant Hindu nation (Hindu Rasthra).

Now, as Tagore would have said, asking practicing Muslims to worship a concept (of Bharat Mata) which actually originates from a novel (Anandmath) in which, without scruple, the protagonist Satyanand asks for the Muslim blood and, ironically, welcomes the British rule, is, not to put too fine a word on it, utterly preposterous and ethically problematic.

Whether the Congress party took the aggressive posture against the Muslim legislator for certain politics ends – in terms of undercutting MIM’s growing influence among the urban Muslim youth – or to preempt the likely accusations from the ultranationalists for being too tolerant of “anti-national” thoughts and behaviors, might be a plausible explanation, but by aligning with the theo-fascists on this issue, it has lost one more battle, and allowed them to project India in their own (Hindutva imaginative) terms and at the same time also let them construct Indian Muslim as an unpatriotic category, because an Indian Muslim couldn’t bring himself to chant and venerate imaginary “Bharat Mata”, even though he emphatically said that he would rather prefer to say “Hindustan Zindabad”; but then the latter slogan is in Urdu language and for Hindutva nationalists, even Urdu is a suspect language!

_________________________________________________________________

First published in Kashmir Reader and Express Tribune on 25 March 2016: http://kashmirreader.com/2016/03/between-bharat-mata-and-hindustan/

http://blogs.tribune.com.pk/story/33373/the-problem-with-vande-mataram-and-hindu-nationalism/

 

 

After Mufti Died!

Mir Suhail cartoon Mufti Lotus Seeds
With somewhat hesitant legs, Jaan Mohammad entered the house of the politician. His body was feeling warmer now after the two security guards at the entrance gave him a quick full-body massage with their brawny hands. He tried to make a peculiar Kashmiri joke, the kind which springs spontaneously like a burp, but it received a cold response from the guards, as if they had been served yellow lentils on a wedding day.
Bloody morons, he cursed them in his mind, while carrying a factitious smile to cover his real feelings.
Bhat soab is home? he asked them.
Probably. They shrugged, dismissively.
Bloody snobby morons, he cursed them again, this time maintaining a firm face.
When he finally got to meet an assistant of the politician, he told him in a courteous manner.
“Jinab, the outstanding payment”
“What payment?”, the assistant had no clue, he didn’t know who this guy was and tried to guess.
Contractors man? our party worker? Sajad’s man? BJP worker? his worker? her man? Who the hell is he?
When the assistant couldn’t recall anything, he finally asked, “Who sent you here?”
“Jinab, nobody sent me. I came on my own to collect the payment. It has been a long time now”, he said, maintaining an earnest smile.
“What payment? Who are you?”
“I am the butcher, jinab. Bhat soab knows me, he had phoned me and asked for two dozen sheep for sacrifice”
“Oh! i got you, right right, the sheep for Mufti sahib’s recovery, for propitiation purpose” the assistant finally said, to the comfort of the butcher’s weary heart.
“That is it, Jinab. What can we mortals do, birth and death is in God’s hand”, he said, raising his eyes momentarily towards heavens, as a mark of humble condolence.
The assistant asked him to wait. When he came back a little while later, he brought a check and handed it over to the butcher.
“But jinab, this is just ten thousand!”.
“So?”
“I gave you two dozen sheep, this covers the cost of only two”
“Look dude, this amount is okay, after all your sheep were not good enough to save Mufti sahib’s life”.
“Good grief! What ‘not good enough’!, beasts are beasts. They are neither Hifz Quran nor connoisseurs of Black Libel”.
The poor butcher was slapped with a PSA and sent to Kathua jail and the registration of his shop cancelled on the charge that he sold Horse meat to the public.
The butcher denies these charges, saying he is not as professional as Mufti to sell haram as halal.
***
In the smoky, sweaty, small tea shop at Polo View, Waseem is aghast. His tongue has been churning swear words from the last one hour.
“For f*%# sake! look at these papers, even King Abdullah didn’t receive such a grotesque coverage”.
“It is business dude, don’t behave naive”, Sameer dismissed him.
“What f*%@#% business, this is shameless arse-licking. Look at this, see” he thrusted paper towards Sameer, who held a cup of musky tea.
“I must say”, Waseem nodded his head in subdued anger, “lot of guys are exposing their tainted asses now. Look at these pieces” he hold out an Edit page, “what you call these? huh?…these are eulogies, praises only praises, as if the guy was the fifth archangel! Why didn’t they write he brought AFSPA here, bloody moronic Jagmohan here and other damn facts…but no, they just omitted these details as if they don’t exist. Where is the bloody journalism in this, where is balance, where is neutrality?”.
“I think you are a bit too harsh here”, Sameer intervened, “there were balanced pieces, you must acknowledge that”.
“Oh come one! it is like a needle in a haystack” Waseem gestured with his forefinger, “You know what, looking at this coverage, i suggest these papers should merge and call themselves Mufti Times inc. Seriously. At least Mehbooba wont mind such an idea. She needs more photos on front pages, more sympathy as if only she lost a father in this whole F%$*&k world”.
Sameer just chuckled.
[This is a piece of fiction]
Note: The cartoon is by Mir Suhail Qadri.

AMU Tarana

Ye mera chaman hai mera chaman, main apne chaman ka bulbul hun
Sar-shaar-e-nigah-e-nargis hun, paa-basta-e-gesu-e-sumbul hun

(chaman: garden; bulbul: nightingale; sarshaar: overflowing, soaked; nigaah: sight; nargis: flower, Narcissus; paa-bastaa: embedded; gesuu: tresses; sumbul:  a plant with a plesant scent)

Ye mera chaman hai mera chaman, ye mera chaman hai mera chaman
Main apne chaman ka bulbul hun

Jo taaq-e-haram mein roshan hai, wo shama yahan bhi jalti hai
Is dasht ke goshe goshe se, ek joo-e-hayat ubalti hai
Ye dasht-e-junoon deewanon ka, ye bazm-e-wafa parwanon ki
Ye shahr-e-tarab roomanon ka, ye khuld-e-bareen armanon ki
Fitrat ne sikhai hai ham ko, uftaad yahan parwaaz yahan
Gaaye hain wafa ke geet yahan, chheda hai junoon ka saaz yahan

(taaq-e-haram: a niche in the sacred Kaaba in Mecca; roshan: glowing; shamaa: candle; 
dasht: wilderness, desert; goshaa: corner; juu-e-hayaat: stream of life; junuuN: frenzy; 
bazm: gathering; vafaa: faithfulness; shahr-e-tarab: city of mirth; Khuld-e-bariiN: sublime paradise; armaan: hopes; fitrat: nature; uftaad: beginning of life; parvaaz: flight; saaz: song on an instrument)

Ye mera chaman hai mera chaman, main apne chaman ka bulbul hun

Is bazm meiN taigheiN khencheen hain, is bazm meiN saghar tode hain
Is bazm meiN aankh bichhai hai, is bazm meiN dil tak jode hain
Har shaam hai shaam-e-Misr yahan, har shab hai shab-e-Sheeraz yahan
Hai saare jahan ka soz yahan aur saare jahan ka saaz yahan
Zarraat ka bosa lene ko, sau baar jhuka aakaash yahan
Khud aankh se ham ne dekhi hai, batil ki shikast-e-faash yahan

(teGh: sword; saGhar: goblet; shaam-e-Misr: evenings of Egpyt; shab-e-Sheeraz: nights of Sheeraz, a famous city of Iran; soz: pain; zarraat: dust particles; bosaa: kiss; baatil: evil; shikast-e-faash: clear defeat)

Ye mera chaman hai mera chaman, ye mera chaman hai mera chaman
Main apne chaman ka bulbul hun

Jo abr yahan se uthega, wo saare jahan par barsega
Har joo-e-rawan par barsega, har koh-e-garan par barsega
Har sard-o-saman par barsega, har dasht-o-daman par barsega
Khud apne chaman par barsega, ghairon ke chaman par barsega
Har shahr-e-tarab par garjega, har qasr-e-tarab par kadkega

(abr: cloud; juu-e-ravaan: flowing streams; koh-e-garaaN: big mountains; sard-o-saman: open and shelter; dasht-o-daman: wild and subdued; qasr-e-tarab: citadel of joy)

Ye abr hamesha barsa hai, ye abr hamesha barsega
Ye abr hamesha barsa hai, ye abr hamesha barsega
Ye abr hamesha barsa hai, ye abr hamesha barsega
Barsegaa, Barsegaa, Barsegaaa…

Majaz Lakhnawi

Source: http://aligarhnama.blogspot.ie/2005/12/aligarh-tarana.html