While India strikes Pakistan, I am sad for what we really lost Indian Pakistani tensions

On the night of May 6, India went to bed. In the morning, we were in war.

When I woke up on Wednesday at about 4:30 am to use the bathroom, my phone was caught in my eyes. It is still half sleeping, I took it – only to be awake from the title after I screaming the same unimaginable message: I released India A series of strikes In Pakistan, targeting “Terrorist strongholds“.

My husband was preparing to arrest a 7 am from New Delhi to Jaipur. Handster again. Some flights have been canceled, and some airports may be closed in northern India. It was not clear whether this was a precautionary measure or in anticipation of the potential Pakistani revenge by air. We decided that he was risky. He was driving instead.

Within an hour and a half before the world woke up to the news that already led to the lifting of my night, I was arrested in a pendant of emotions – waves of fear, anxiety and a deep feeling of uncomfortable, and most of all. I kept updating the news, hoping to get more clarity, – anything that might make things feel surreal.

Of course, like every other Indian, I knew the catalyst for the attack: the last A terrorist attack in Baham – Really horrific work in which 26 unarmed Indian tourists were killed. India blamed the attack on their headquarters in Pakistan, a charge of Pakistan. In the days after this, India responded with a series of strong measures: suspension of Indus Waters, expelling Pakistani citizens and cutting trade relations. Pakistan also expelled the Indians, closed the airspace and hung the Simla agreement.

At home, too, there were repercussions. As often when tensions between India, Pakistan, Indian Muslims and Kashmiris correspond to the greater burden. Some were comfortable with their jobs, others from their places of residence. Some were attacked, while others described “terrorists”. Amid the noise and anger, Hemanchi Narwal – the widow of one of the dead in Bahajam – made a wonderful call to peace on hatred, and urged people not to target Muslims or the Kashmiris. Ironically, it was met with a flood of abuse and hunting.

In the days and weeks that followed, the Indian government continued the promise of military revenge. However, many of us did not completely believe them. Both countries are nuclear armed, and India is affected between Pakistan and its ally, China. The political situation was expected to be expected, but certainly, when it comes to it, the cancellation of the escalation would be the preferred option.

When the sun began to rise, the WhatsApp groups were vibrant. It was a day of victory, avoiding the chest, hitting the M and waving science. We hope that one group discussed the astronomical possibility of a complete war while others were full of cheerful Islamic rhetoric, and comparing weather strikes with Diwali. He did not discuss the human cost of war – or the terrifying possibility of nuclear conflict.

Continuous euphoria indicates. To our side, at least 15 civilians, at least 15 civilians have their lives to bomb artillery across the border that followed the air strikes. Countless people spent tonight in terrorism, and praying to live to see sunrise. However, among all violence, the local population remains invisible, trapped again in the crossing.

Since the world around me seems to be discovered at this moment, I feel calm and continuous pain. Pain in the lost spirits, pain for the increasing division, and pain of the values ​​that I grew up with, which seems to be now slipping from our understanding. How can I talk about peace when he feels the basis of sympathy for threats? How can the values ​​of freedom, democracy and pluralism be protected when they are twisted in the tools of division? And most of all, how can we adhere to our humanity in these troubled times?

How do we balance our love for our country with sympathy for innocent people who occurred in the middle of this conflict?

At what point we allow, as a community, to humanity to overcome war policy and choose a different path?

While others celebrate, I can only feel a deep separation. Almost like new emperor clothes, the human tragedy remains invisible. Invitations to peace and diplomacy have been silent, and replaced by cruel war crimes – that do not leave any room for ordinary citizens to express their grief, anxiety and uncertainty.

And if, in the midst of all this cocovon, I feel tired and isolated in my heart, I wonder: Certainly, I cannot be the only one?

In the end, I can only be sad for what was lost – whether in life or values.

The opinions expressed in this article are the author of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of the editorial island.