For the past 60 days or so, since the end of June, the people of Kashmir have been free. Free in the most profound sense. They have shrugged off the terror of living their lives in the gun-sights of half a million heavily armed (Indian) soldiers, in the most densely militarised zones in the world.-Arundhati Roy, 'Azadi'- Outlook India) Kashmir is in crisis and aflame again. This time nobody can blame any foreign hand in it. It is indigenous and an inevitable eruption of volcanic suffocation simmering underneath among the Kashmiri people for several decades. Since after 1947, Kashmir has been at the core of South Asia's issues of peace and security, and is today a sombre reminder to the world that despite universalisation of fundamental values and freedoms, the people of Kashmir remain deprived of them. In a remarkable piece on the current uprising in Kashmir, Arundhati Roy, a Booker Prize winner and world's renowned humanist has challenged the world's and India's conscience on this issue drawing their attention to a huge price being paid in terms of military, material, moral and human costs in keeping the Indian occupation of Kashmir against the wishes of its people. She narrates how an ill-conceived move over the transfer of a small piece of land to the Shri Amarnath Shrine Board "suddenly became the equivalent of tossing a lit match into a barrel of petrol. She acknowledges that "rightly or wrongly, the land transfer was viewed as the thin edge of the wedge. It triggered an apprehension that it was the beginning of an elaborate plan to build Israeli-style settlements, and change the demography of the valley." In reaction, the Kashmiris mounted massive protests bringing the valley to a complete shutdown. In no time, despite curfew and crackdown, the political revolt spread from the cities to villages and developed into a mass movement which not only resurrected memories of the Kashmiri uprising in the 90s but also gave a new dimension to their struggle for freedom. Numerous Kashmiri people were killed by the Indian armed forces in street clashes. Eventually, the authorities revoked the land transfer. Arundhati Roy notes that by then, the land transfer had become what the veteran Kashmiri leader Syed Ali Shah Geelani called a "non-issue." The situation worsened by an economic blockade of the valley with the choking of the Jammu-Srinagar highway. According to Arundhati Roy, the blockade demonstrated to the people in Kashmir that "they lived on sufferance, and that if they didn't behave themselves, they could be put under siege, starved, deprived of essential commodities and medical supplies." She then goes on to flag the point that "not surprisingly, the voice that the government of India has tried so hard to silence in Kashmir has massed into a deafening roar. Raised in the playground of army camps, checkpoints, and bunkers, with screams from torture chambers for a soundtrack, the young generation has suddenly discovered the power of mass protest, and above all, the dignity of being able to straighten their shoulders and speak for themselves, represent themselves. For them, it is nothing short of an epiphany. Not even the fear of death seems to hold them back. And once that fear has gone, of what use is the largest or second largest army in the world?" Arundhati recalls that "there have been mass rallies (in Kashmir) in the past, but none in recent memory that have been so sustained and widespread." This time it is not the mainstream political parties of Kashmir or their leaders but the people who were in the forefront. The leaders did appear and speak at the rallies but "not so much as leaders as followers. It was the spontaneous energy of a caged, enraged people that exploded on Kashmir streets." Depicting the popular mood in Kashmir, Arundhati describes how "day after day, hundreds of thousands of people swarm around places that hold terrible memories for them. They demolish bunkers, break through cordons of concertina wire and stare straight down the barrels of soldiers' machine guns, saying what very few in India want to hear. Hum Kya Chahtey? Azadi And it has to be said in equal numbers, and with equal intensity: Jeevey Jeevey Pakistan." "That sound reverberates through the drumbeat of steady rain on a tin roof, like the roll of thunder during an electric storm." This is not a line from any romantic short story. This is what Arundhati had to say about these slogans. And then she narrates how on August 15, India's independence day, Lal Chowk, the nerve centre of Srinagar, was taken over by thousands of people who hoisted the Pakistani flag and wished each other "happy belated independence day" alluding to Pakistan's independence day on August 14. She further describes the scene. On August 16, more than 300,000 people marched to Pampore, the village of the Hurriyat leader, Sheikh Abdul Aziz who was shot down in cold blood five days earlier. Next day, the police sealed the city. Streets were barricaded; thousands of armed police manned the barriers. The roads leading into Srinagar were blocked. On the morning of August 18, people began pouring into Srinagar from villages and towns across the valley. Once again, barriers were broken and people reclaimed their city. The police were faced with a choice of either stepping aside or executing a massacre. They stepped aside. Not a single bullet was fired." "The city floated on a sea of smiles. There was ecstasy in the air. Everyone had a banner; houseboat owners, traders, students, lawyers, doctors. One said: We are all prisoners, set us free. Another said: Democracy without freedom is demon-crazy. That was a good one. Perhaps, he was referring to insanity that permits the world's largest democracy to administer the world's largest military occupation and continues to call itself a democracy. There was a green flag on every lamp post, every roof, every bus stop and on the top of chinar trees. Everywhere, there were Pakistani flags; everywhere the cry: Pakistan se rishta kya? La Illaha Illallah" Azadi Ka Matlab Kya? La Illaha Illallah." As the crowd continued to swell, Arundhati listened carefully to the slogans because she knew that rhetoric often holds the key to all kinds of understanding. (Don't we remember the song from the early stage of our Lawyers' Movement? Chacha Wardi Lahnda Kyun Nai). Arundhati heard plenty of insults and humiliations for India. Ay Jabiro Ay Zalimo, Kashmir Hamara Chhod Do. According to her, the slogan that cut through her like a knife and broke her heart was this one: Nanga Bhooka Hindustan, Jaan Se Pyara Pakistan. She concludes: "The Indian military occupation of Kashmir makes monsters of us all. It allows Hindu chauvinists to target and victimise Muslims in India by holding them hostage to the freedom struggle being waged by Muslims in Kashmir. India needs Azadi from Kashmir just as much as- if not more- Kashmir needs Azadi from India." Arundhati Roy has opened the reality window to the world on what is happening in Kashmir. The world remains silent, if not complacent. The only words of concern we heard were from the Geneva-based Office of the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights which routinely deplored civilian casualties in the "violent protests in Indian-administered Kashmir." On our part, we also played a ritual by reluctantly condemning the "excessive and unwarranted use of force" against the people of Indian occupied Kashmir and expressing mute concern over the deteriorating situation in IOK resulting from gross human rights violations, loss of life and property of the Kashmiri people and their economic blockade by extremist elements. India rejected our concerns as "gross interference" in its internal affairs. But Arundhati Roy's Kashmir piece is really an eye-opener to us as a nation, and as a sovereign state, if we are one anymore. Today is the Defence of Pakistan Day, and perhaps a poignant occasion for us to look back at our country's chequered history and do some soul searching, however painful and agonising. We need to ask ourselves if we have proven worthy of the freedom and dignity that our Quaid bequeathed to us in the form of Pakistan as a fortress of our independence. By now we have a full generation's lifetime behind us with very little to be proud of. Our leaders have failed the Quaid's vision. It is time we looked to the people of Kashmir to understand the value of our freedom and sovereign independence. Don't we feel a sharp knife piercing through our conscience today as a nation? Our history is replete with endless self-brought tragedies and crises. It is time we reversed our history to genuinely deserve the Kashmiri people's spontaneous yearnings, Jeevey Jeevey Pakistan, Jan Se Pyara Pakistan. The writer is a former foreign secretary