From Kashmir to Kandahar to Peshawar to Palestine to Syria to Baghdad to Yemen to Kabul to Kurdistan – Muslim blood is spilling across the globe. In each and every corner of the Muslim world, Muslim children are being ruthlessly butchered. The bloodbath of children started off in Peshawar,went toSyria, and now it has arrived in Kashmir. First it was Shoaib in Peshawar,Aylan a Kurdish boy from Syria, and now Burhan of Kashmir. All of them were ruthlessly butchered for the crime which they never committed. Indeed it was revenge – but revenge of what? This question has shaken up the whole world.

A few days ago Kashmir mourned the death of its ownAylanKurdi. It was Burhan Bashir’s age which made him synonymous to AylanKurdi. People called him the“Aylan of Kashmir”.  Burhan wasn’t washed up ashore after drowning in the sea but was in the lap of his father when two motorcycle-borne gunmen hurled a hand grenade towards them outside their house. Luckily for the two, the grenade did not explode and Burhan began run to save his life. But to make up for the grenade’s failure,the assailants openedindiscriminate fire at the father-son duo, critically injuring both of them – and at the hospital, Burhan lost his life.

Wails and cries greeted Burhan's body at his home. Hundreds joined his funeral. Amid tears and cries, everyone around at the funeral prayers of Burhan was numb, full of grief and sorrow. Every eye was moist, when Burhan started his last journey. It reminded people of the infamous quote: “The smallest coffins are heaviest”. He was laid to rest with his father at the old graveyard of Sopore (the famous apple town known for martyrs).

It was indeed a dooms day for the whole of Kashmir. His death has shocked people in Kashmir and turned their focus to the recent spate of mysterious killings in the Valley. It makes sense that someone who is behind these killing is responsible for the mysterious attacks. These killings insinuate about the recent statement of the Defence Minister Manohar Parikhar in which he said, “Terrorism will be eliminated by terrorism and militants will be used to kill militants”.

Bashir was a former active militant in the early ‘90s, one who had joined the insurgency at its peak in the 1990s, like many others. He had spent 3 years in jail. But he had settled down to a normal life after his release.  Today, he had a different identity. It was an identity of a brother, husband, a son who helped his family in their fields, and, most importantly, he was breadwinner who ran a small shop to earn his livelihood.

Burhan lost his life outside his house – the place where he used to play once – he never knew that he will be killed there. That once-happy place turned into one of mourning for the same person who up until the previous day used to dance outside on the lawn of his house. Today he is no more, lying silently in his grave.

When the news spread across the Valley, People came out on the streets shouted pro-freedom slogans and hurled stones. Hurriyat separatist leader Syed Ali Shah Geelanicalled for a valley-wide shutdown to protest against the killing of a small boy.

Burhan's killing deserves much more than a condemnation. It deserves much more than a strike. It requires an authentic mourning. It requires anguish. And it requires a deep sense of indignation. It requires sorrow.