The Kashmir Files: the slap on the infidels

Baring my heart
4 min readMar 20, 2022

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PC: searchkashmir.org

I wasn’t impressed much by “The Buddha in a traffic jam”, so I decided to skip “The Tashkent files”. With “The Kashmir Files” (TKF 2.0), Vivek Agnihotri has slapped me hard. More than 20 hours have elapsed, and I am still feeling numbness in my cheek. It feels I was in deep sleep and someone just woke me up by splashing icy cold blood-filled water from the Dal lake. Some Arundhati would like to make me believe this blood is purely a figment of imagination. One Nehru would like my skin to soak up this blood for the greater good of secularism. But today, I don’t want to soak up. I want to put this blood under a microscope and investigate it. I want to segregate the platelets of truth from the plasma of lies and false narratives.

“TKF 2.0 seems to have finally awakened the Indians and bulldozed the phoney left ecosystem.

TKF 2.0 is not anti-Muslim just like Parzania was not anti-Hindu. It is a harsh truth that everyone must accept and learn to never repeat it. It should make people ask, “What level of indoctrination and religious bigotry can make a person split a mother of two young children into two, as one of those innocent sons is looking at the event unfold right in front of his shell-shocked eyes?”. Why in the name of secularism and out of fear of disturbing communal harmony, not ask questions about our horrid past or make our children read distorted history? How did the likes of Irfan Habib and Romila Thapar become the ‘falsely’ revered custodians of our rich and vast history? If the west can continue to produce movies after movies on holocaust, why cannot a liberal and inclusive India make films on the genocides of the past? Is there anyone who calls the west holocaust movies as propaganda films?

This write-up is the result of a request from a friend who recommended watching the film and writing on it. I am actually in loss of words to write much on the topic. Partly, due to my lack of knowledge of the vast history of Kashmir, and mostly due to the sensitivity of the subject. The fact that thousands are going to theatre to watch it means, nothing needs to be written. I will keep it short. The movie just needs to be seen. The movie had a profound effect on my psyche. It created a deep sense of guilt of not caring enough about the internal refugees. The movie rightfully is dedicated to all those affected by racial and religious persecution. If it feels like a slap, you are not alone. I think that was the intention.

Anupam Kher despite your dislike for his political affiliation, must be appreciated for his stellar performance. The monologue by Krishna Pandit, played effortlessly by Darshan Kumar, should create a craving for Indian history in you.

Love you from the bottom of my sigmoid colon (PC: wikibio.in)

The infidel has awakened from the pseudo-secularist slumber. I won’t be afraid of accepting the harsh truth of 2002 (the excesses of the radical Hindus), and I also won’t rest until I unravel the truth about Moplah rebellion, direct action day, Mahashay Rajpal, and the likes of Aurangzeb. Nope, I have no interest in reading Audrey Truschke. My one-sided love for Arundhati Roy will continue to flourish (Love you from the bottom of my sigmoid colon). Reading the left and the right is important to be able to carve your own truth at the centre.

If I am told hell awaits me when I am dead, I give a damn. I had long back decided to indulge in earthly matters and the multitude of pleasures that mother earth has to offer to her inhabitants. Of course, without disturbing the equilibrium. My fidelity is towards humanism and nature. TKF 2.0 is about embracing humanism. It is time to ditch the bogey of “Kashmiriyat’ and “Ganga Jamuni tehzeeb” to conceal truth. It is time to appreciate the commonalities, accept the differences and move on together. 21st century India can very well afford to do that.

Heart-broken kafir

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Baring my heart
Baring my heart

Written by Baring my heart

A mind forever voyaging through strange seas of thought alone. I dream to build a small house with a big room for sarcasm, satire & sardonicism.

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