"Fiction as a form is much more truthful..." said Imre KerteszI joined Kashmir in 1992 as a second lieutenant, fresh out of the Indian Military Academy. infantry unit in Kashmir for one year of counter insurgency experience. The Kashmir valley was then a complex cauldron of trust, faith, subversion and politics. The literary man in me was fascinated by the reality of mass destruction and the human capacity for violence promised immeasurable potential for stories from the human point of view. And I have heard them told orally, by the young and old of Kashmir: stories of fear, pain and suffering and of uncontrolled totalitarianism in an absurd, emotionally isolated and essentially meaningless world. to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an original essay. But there were no poems, no novels, no films, not even a printed or written story worthy of the name. Kashmir is a case of creativity gone awry. The real point here is that there is a deep and significant connection between risk-taking and creativity that is often overlooked. This is not a job for the timid. Wasted time, tarnished reputation, money not well spent: these are all byproducts of creativity gone awry. For me, lack of creativity means lack of conviction. So not only does creativity require courage in one's beliefs, it also requires a willingness to die for those beliefs, over and over and over again. The element of risk has blocked truthful reporting from penetrating the mainstream. What permeates is an opinion or judgment formed from a safe distance. And overwhelming fear prevents willing Kashmiris from being fair and balanced in their accounts. Only the Indian Army soldier is involved and committed to resisting the risk element. Niya Shahdad looks you straight in the eye - from her bio on The Wire website dated May 29, 2018 - pretty sure she has something substantive to say, as if she's holding back some important piece of information: probably some bad news she wants to tell you. And then he details his account of the chain of violence and horror in Kashmir, without giving the reader a chance to recover between one massacre and another. His style is graphic and picturesque, and both emotion and religious feeling are expressed with warmth and sympathy through the journey to the true "forces" and the origins of that "senseless violence and terror". tone of the entire story.Niya is 23 years old, a recent graduate of Tufts University in Boston, where she completed her bachelor's degree in English and art history. She and her ilk write convincingly. But there is a fundamental problem with this narrative. It's not true. And his is just one of the many voices that seek to frame a narrative that only helps to exaggerate the vices of the Indian state and ignores the strategic mobilization that time and again uses Islam and independence, interchangeably. Only the soldier knows that the truth is much more complicated. At the other extreme are the Kashmiri Pandits who have always been a minority and their voices fail to effectively counter Niya's, due to the lack of demonstrable empirical force. Rahul Pandita was fourteen years old in 1990, who saw his family forced to leave their home in Srinagar. They were Kashmiri Pandits, a number of Hindus, who were a minority, within a Muslim majority. He wrote “Our moon has blood clots” – probably the only one to highlight the Pandits' side of the story. He is no less vivid in describing the violent ethnic cleansing at the hands of Islamic militias, in which scores of people were tortured and killed and 3.5 lacKashmiri Pandits forced to leave their homes. So there is a “Muslim” version on the rise and there is a minority “Hindu” version, and even though there are countless books and a deluge of information that focuses on the historical, socio-economic and diplomatic side of a dispute which has lasted for 71 years, the truth is somewhat lacking. In Kashmir, the “human” drama has been marginally covered in almost all media, from newspapers to magazines, radio, television and the numerous platforms offered by the Internet. Quite simply, it is our nature as human beings to care about things that happen to other human beings. A human interest story puts people at the center of events. Doing this brings a double benefit. It gives the reader someone to relate to and taps into our natural curiosity about the lives of others. I am worried that faujis never write human point of view stories on Kashmir, even though we are flooded with writings of former generals and so-called "defence experts". ' who place all the blame for the violence in Jammu and Kashmir on Pakistan because it supplies weapons, training and even fighters to the insurgency. But they communicate nothing beyond what has been said over and over again. On the other hand, we have Niya Shahdads who indulge the victim mentality and knowingly preclude the exodus of Pandits and dwell on the killings, injuries or sufferings of Muslims alone – a race deceived, defrauded and deceived by the Indian nation. And almost nothing about the soldier, who is forever deceived into actions that do not serve him - a creature sacrificed to some deity or as a religious rite or someone sacrificed for a cause, whose case is described only in clichéd journalistic language or in a textbook moral story that rarely ventures beyond physical courage. For the average Indian, there are no individuals in Kashmir, only stock images. There are the “secessionist” Kashmiris; there are terrorists who are nothing but "Pak proxies" and there are soldiers who are "brave hearts" pitted against them. Years of turmoil have failed to shape any tangible character, either Kashmiri or military, with whom the reader can easily identify or sympathize. . Kashmiris have a common personality with problems or ambitions in common with the reader. Many of them are losers caught between the armed forces and terrorists. Learn about their insecurities, ambitions, pain, anger, fear, etc. it would help collective perceptions and emotions. What was Muzaffar, who came from a strongly nationalist family and was harassed and tortured into a militant to ward off the same credentials? I had staged his surrender and found him exceptionally intelligent in my conversations. I owe him some rare insights into the reality of Kashmir which gives me the conviction to call Niya Shahdad and her ilk "pseudo fillers" who have taken over the writing industry and know how the whole writing "business" works. the story doesn't end here. After a week-long custody period, he asked for my permission to visit his parents, which I graciously granted. He never came back. And when I stormed his village to "settle" him, I learned that he had been attacked by the Hizbul Mujahideen, who had gouged out his eyes and stabbed a red-hot iron rod into his stomach. I carry the burden of guilt to this day. Then there was this jawan who had accidentally fired his carbine into his forehead and his gray matter had dripped until medical help arrived and the doctor declared him dead. He had been sitting steadily as if in a trance, and had tried to get up, seeing me, an officer approaching, a few minutes before collapsing. A school teacher had confided in me that.