AR Bhat
My mother started wailing and asking me if I have become a Jihadi, I smiled within and said to myself I have become नशे का आदी. The craze to puff the powder through the nose was such that I was ready to go to any lengths to get my fix. Today, after many years, my hands are trembling with an adrenaline rush when I am holding a needle in my hand. The only difference now is that the needle that I am holding will not take me into a fantasy world of destruction, but the needle will show me a path to success and prosperity. The breath-taking landscape of chirping birds and the beautiful blooming flowers will just not be my imaginative world. The beauty which I imagined will now be reality. I will be the creator of these beautiful stories. Iam Ayaan from the land of Firdaus and Pari Mahal. I belong to the most beautiful place, which is blessed by Hazratbal on one side and Shankaracharya temple on the other. Beauty can be seen everywhere, from the colourful flowers in Badamwari and Shalimar Baugh to the seasonal bloom of the Tulip gardens. Such is the beauty of my land that numerous poets have found their inspiration here. The beauty of my land is captured in various Bollywood movies. Today the beauty of this place is getting scarred. The youths who once used to frequent these places have started vanishing. One could hear the crackling laughter of local youths along with tourists earlier. Heads were bowed in religious places asking for guidance and a better life. Hands used to be raised in prayers asking Allah to grant everyone a healthy and pious life. Everything has started changing because of one habit which is spreading like wildfire throughout the region: drugs. This dangerous spider has spread its net in every nook and corner. Instead of books in their hands nowadays, these young people have needles piercing their veins. Drugs in the form of marijuana, heroin, LSD, cocaine, and others have started flowing in the valley through border areas. The peddlers are not confided to men alone even women help with smuggling this poison. These peddlers target vulnerable youths by giving them free for the initial months till the time they get addicted to it. The initial high these drugs give by changing the chemical components in one’s body takes the young in flight into the free world. They feel themselves as free birds who are touching the horizon and floating in clouds of happiness. They feel light as a feather who just glides happily from one pace to another without any worry or unhappiness. They become untouchable to pain and suffering. I also wanted to experience these highs and peer pressure was an added push. I made friends with people who were already regular users, and I started my journey to hell with using marijuana. Consuming it, moments later, my day went on with happiness, and I was light one foot jumping from one place to another. My thought was what would be wrong with it if I could be free and happy for some moments? This thought was the starting point for my destruction. I came from a family with moderate means. We were not very affluent, but I still usually used to get pocket money from my parents. Earlier, pocket money used to be accumulated and went into buying things like a fashionable watch, glasses or the latest-styled leather jackets as worn by Bollywood heroes. Time passed by and now the pocket money was not sufficient because now my needs were different. Now it is not like who has the latest trendiest clothes or accessories. Now my life revolves around how much money I must make to meet my everyday quota. I graduated from being a beginner to a hardcore drug user. Marijuana now does not give me the kicks which I had been habituated to. I moved on to harder drugs like heroine and LSD. As I graduated to more expensive drugs, the money to buy them was insufficient. But the craze to puff the powder through the nose was such that I was ready to go to any lengths to get my fix. Initially, I started stealing from my own house, using the college fees for my doses. Kab Tak ye chote mote choriya karta. My ambition was bigger to be drowned in my world and for that I needed more money. I was like a fish outside a pond without water trembling for life. To me that time, my peddler was like GOD who came to my rescue, giving me my regular fix against me peddling for him. From a boy from a respectable family, I became a peddler of drugs, destroying the lives of people like me and, at times, even younger. I had no shame or guilt that I am not only destroying my life but the lives of others too. For me, my only goal in life was to get abundance and abundance of my daily fix.
My parents noticed changes in my behaviour. My shallow eyes tremble in my hands, my mood swings. They were initially unable to understand why I was behaving this way. The first thought that came to their minds was that I was going along the paths like the Wani’s who had ended in the grave. These thoughts sent shivers through their bodies. My mother caught hold of me and gave me a promise of her life. Allah ke naam pe, she started wailing and asking me if I had become a Jihadi. I got increasingly irritated by her helpless cries and just wanted to go away from her. My mother feared for me and told my father to speak to me, but my ears were deaf to their pleas. After many days of wailing, scolding, and locking me in one room, they gave up, not because they were tired, but because my health detioriated. I was so habituated to my drugs that 2 days without them were the worst days of my life. My whole body was on fire. I could feel something eating me from within. I was howling like an animal day and night. My parents who came to console me were left with a bleeding forehead. I threw a flowerpot at my father as he entered the room. Such was my condition that I was immediately taken to the hospital. Looking at me, the doctor took no time in recognizing that I was a drug addict from that day onwards, my road to recovery started. This road was not at all easy for me. I burned in the fires of hell day and night with excruciating pain. There were two people who were instrumental in getting me back to my feet. One was family and one was more than a family. I owe my renewed life not only to my mother but also to that mother in uniform who helped me heal and transform. Like my name Ayaan, I was a gifted boy who could do intricate embroidery easily and finesse. My uncle had an embroidery unit where we used to make beautiful shawls, sarees, and dresses. I used to love going there and using my imagination on the clothes using beautiful colours. The use of drugs made my mind and body feeble. I have lost a lot of weight. The cravings gave me a lot of pain, as if I would explode. During this difficult period, along with my mother, there was one lady who stood by me like a rock. She held my hand and walked with me on the journey towards healing not only my body but also my mind. She was a stranger who did not know me personally. I was nobody for her, but the echoes of my pain were unbearable for her, and she became my healer. She was a mother in uniform for me Major Shikha was serving in one of the units in the valley and on the fateful day when I was brought to the hospital, she had accompanied a colleague who was injured by stone pelting. While her comrade was being treated for his injuries, she heard my cries and went to my family to enquire. My parents told her the whole situation. My mother told me that after speaking to them she went and spoke to the doctor. She came back and asked for our address and other things. My family got a little scarred thinking whether there would be a police case or whether there would be other frightening consequences. She assured my parents not to worry and she was there to help. The angel called Shikha entered my life after a week of rehabilitation. I was still in a lot of pain and was not at all in any mood to meet or speak to anyone. The first day she came to meet me, I resisted and did not speak a word to her. She introduced herself and told me she was coming to meet me because she heard that I am an artist par excellence. She herself likes to play with threads and would want to learn from me. All the while she was speaking to me, I was like a grumpy, angry child who did not want to hear anything, just wanted his chocolates. Days went by. I was still the same rude and arrogant to her, but she never failed visiting me.
One day she brought a box with her and kept it beside my bedside table. I was inquisitive inside, but at the same time I did not want to show that I was curious. I started ignoring her. She was a wise lady; she opened the box and removed all the material that was needed for embroidery. She started sketching on cloth, choosing colours, and making patterns. Something inside me jumped. My eyes shone like a twinkling star. From the corner of my eyes, I was looking at her work. It was 2 months after her visit. I had regained some of my strength but still have not spoken a single word to her. That day when she entered, I did not know what happened to me and the ice broke. I smiled at her, and she smiled back. She came to me and lovingly put a hand on my head and said how are you, Ayaan? Those loving words and that motherly touch brought tears to my eyes. I started crying. She took me in her arms and let me calm down. That day, a bond developed between both of us. Even after we were friends, she did not start lecturing me about how to leave drugs and not go on that path. Instead, she started enquiring what my hobbies are, what places I would like to visit etc. She was incredibly happy when I mimicked my favourite actor, Shahrukh Khan. Days went by, she started giving me materials related to my hobbies and magazines with details of places I like to visit. This was treasure for me. I could visit these places sitting in my hospital room. One day while humming, she was embroidering patchwork but was not getting it right. She tried again and again but was not getting the result she wanted. That was the day I held the needle again in my hand. The needle which changed my life. I showed her the correct way of doing the patch work. The shine in her eyes cannot be compared to any diamond in the world. She got so excited and when she saw the result, now her visit was filled with learning new patterns and designs. I also usually wait for her arrival.
The day arrived when I was going to be discharged from the hospital. I am a changed person now. Before packing our things, I saw Major Shikha there with few other people. I was delighted to see her. My family was also surprised when she saw so many people in Uniform. She introduced the other officers as her colleagues. She told my mother that they want to recruit me as a teacher to teach embroidery to school children and make products that will be sold at various army stores. We did not have words. We were stunned. Never in my dream could I imagine that, after destroying my life in such a way, I would get this opportunity. While learning from me, she showed my work to her seniors under mission Sadbhavna. It was decided that I would teach. Along with this opportunity, I was also asked to give talks to youngsters in schools and colleges on the ills of drugs and how one should avoid going on that path. Looking back now, I realize how hard the Indian Army along with other agencies have worked hard to bring about a decline in the crossover of Drugs in Kashmir. They should be applauded for their efforts because at times they go out of their way to save a life. The strict vigil on borders has made it difficult for peddlers to smuggle hard drugs. They are tried and are apprehended by the Army person posted at the check post. Continuous crackdowns on their illegal activities have made a dent in their earnings. After the strict checking, it was difficult for them to bring the substances in fear of getting caught. To minimize the risk of getting arrested, they started using drones to deliver the packages. They were successful 2-3 times. That was their last win. Their drones were apprehended before every delivery was shot and destroyed and all their valuable narcotics were seized by the Army and border personnel. The continuous crackdown started breaking their backs and now they were looking for new ways to smuggle their goods. They are also notorious and tried to remove a path by recruiting women to smuggle their substances thinking that no one would question women and it would be easier to crossover. But they forget that the Sentinels of Kashmir are in every nook and corner. Since women could not be frisked by male people, it was a problem that needed immediate attention. To tackle the situation of women peddlers bringing drugs into the region, a solution was formed.
It was observed that there was movement of drugs through different border areas. To put a stop to it, women soldiers from the Assam Rifles were deployed so that checking and frisking of women could be done without any hesitation. These women soldiers play a dual role of not only keeping the area clean from narcotics smuggling, but they have also developed a bond with local women from villages. Friendly banter and talks with smiles and laughter are spread between these women. Domestic issues are also discussed, and our women soldiers give a patient ear to their problems and at times try to give a solution too. Kids from the region are also fascinated by looking at these women soldiers and see them as an inspiration. Apart from imparting their duties, these women soldiers along with doctors from the Army set up medical camps in various villages to educate people. They have regular medical camps where they treat people. Also, in the camps they give information on the consequences of the use of drugs. They not only educate people about how the poison of drugs kills a person and destroys not only his life but the life of his family too. Apart from losing health, one also loses his career and his life if one becomes a peddler or smuggles drugs. They educate people about the various legal actions one must face for being involved in the criminal activity of drug supply and usage. Apart from strict vigilance along the borders and other areas, the Army has setup various helplines where people addicted can call and speak to counsellors. Not only a drug user but their families too can call the designated number and seek help. The concerned person who receives the call writes down the problem and provides a solution according to the complexity. All names of people who call are kept anonymous. If they feel that a particular callers’ situation is serious, then the same is escalated to their seniors immediately and action is taken to give an immediate solution to it. I know few people who have sought help from this helpline for their drug problems and, due to the timely help received, are today leading a drug-free life. I am lucky that I got this opportunity which changed my life. From being a nuisance to society and an embarrassment for my family. I became an example of a strong person who fought against all odds to make his life better. I was a living example of how using drugs destroys life, career, and the health of a person. At the same time, I wanted to show the world how timely help and encouragement from a stranger changed the course of my life. I wanted to shout from the roof top that the Indian Army is not our enemies, they are our friends. They will remove you from darkness. You just need to trust them. I am a living example of this. How A MOTHER IN UNIFORM changed me, saved me, and gave me a new life.