“A Proud Muslim, Kashmiri - Citizen of the World - Learner”

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This is how Muskan Shafat describes herself on her blog, and shortly after speaking to her, it’s evident that she lives up to these words.

 

Passionate, eloquent, and determined, Muskan talks with such a conviction that one would have a hard time imagining that she, at one point, couldn’t speak her mind.

 

But such is life in the Kashmir region of India. And that is only the tip of the iceberg.

 

Once described as the “heaven of the earth”, Kashmir has been torn asunder by the internal struggle by trained Kashmiri youth sponsored by Pakistan against the national armed forces; her region had degraded from its paradise-like status to “a dilapidated palace,” as Muskan calls it.

 

Nevertheless, Muskan isn’t afraid to brand herself a Kashmiri, for despite it once being her cage, it is still her home.

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Kashmir

A bit of history for everyone. A highly disputed region, Kashmir along with Jammu is located in the northernmost part of India adjacent to Pakistan, the two main players in this violent game of war. For the past fifty years, the state has been characterized by border disputes, protests, and death, all because Lord Louis Mountbatten had released a mandate stating that they divide the land based on the dominant religion being practiced. Mountbatten was in charge of dividing the pre-independent India, but it was actually done because the congress and Britain had accepted the Two Nation Theory of Muhammad Ali Jinnah, the founder of Pakistan. Because of this, Kashmir, predominantly Muslim, was under the subject of a Hindu ruler, raising already high tensions due to this religious standoff. 

 

In her blog, Muskan explains the nature of her country’s conflict in two different ways.

 

One goes like this: Kashmir, a misshapen and fragile doll, is being viciously ripped apart by feuding sisters India and Pakistan, only to be moderated poorly by the United Nations, the mother in this unfortunate family. Fractured and almost forlorn, Kashmir is still a sore topic of conversation between the two sisters, and that grudge, although waning at the start, has recently been getting more and more vengeful.

 

Another analogy extends to the inhabitants of the Indian region. In it, she describes Kashmir as a lonely princess subject to a poor arranged marriage with one of three princes. Despite being rich and owning an extensive empire, the prince chosen to be her suitor is manipulative and possessive. When given the chance to decorate her new home, Kashmir is hushed and her belongings are disposed of or destroyed, but she cannot get away. But who is this Prince in the analogy? India. However, Muskan considers herself - and the rest of her fellow Kashmiri - to be the belongings of this tortured Princess, an anthropomorphic personification of Kashmir.

 

Why? Because she believes that dehumanizing her people is the only way to capture the severity of her tragic situation.

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Pride 

Agar firdous baroye zameen ast, hami asto, hami asto, hami ast.

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“If there is Paradise on Earth, it is this, it is this, it is this.”

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These were the words of Persian poet Amir Khusru when referring to the Kashmir region.

 

Muskan is a proud Kashmiri. She speaks Kashmiri, listens to Kashmiri music, and is happy to have breathed Kashmiri air, but she thinks that her home region is losing the beauty that it once had.

 

In her eyes, Jammu and Kashmir have slowly trying “to become the West instead of learning from the West.” This growing lack of culture coupled by the recently belligerent conditions don’t necessarily give her any more reasons to agree with Khusru. And why should she?

 

Muskan rebukes this ignorance of the state of her country in lieu of a more commonly held patriotic viewpoint because it turns a blind eye to what is unfolding in front of her very eyes. In fact, she includes just this in her blog.

 

“How could I discuss the beauty of the land and not its loss?”

 

Paradise. Kashmir is far from it.

 

It’s almost cruel if you think about it. In a way, the nature of her pride is a paradox in that her nationalism stems from what Kashmir can be and not what Kashmir is, but that doesn’t stop Muskan. If anything, it gives her even more of a reason to change history so that her ethnicity and her country are nothing to be ashamed of.

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War 

At first, Muskan mentions “identity cards”  only in passing—she wishes for a day in which she is not pressured by the need to show her identity card when they’re out and about—but then upon asking her to elaborate, we learn more about the harshness of her situation.

 

The first step is “Crackdown.” The army occupies a nearby mosque and uses their speaker to rally the inhabitants of the region. Then after corralling everyone, they order you to hand over your ID cards although it seemed more along the lines of relinquishing one’s  humanity.

 

These so-called identity cards are used as a litmus test of sorts: a physical branding of allegiance to India. Show them your ID card, and you give into this overbearingly commanding practice. Hesitate, and risk being considered a rebellious militant.

 

But identity cards pale in comparison to her other problems.

 

Although there was once a divide between Muslims and Hindus despite their unified status as Kashmiri, over time, the open wounds between the two communities that dominated the same area have been ever-so slowly been closing. That is, until the death of Burhan Wani.

 

Burhan Wani was the leader of Hizbul Mujahideen (HM), a radical group whose prime focus is to incite rebellion. After rising through the ranks, this 23-year old led HM with riots and publicity stunts in the form of YouTube videos to entice the more susceptible youth into joining.

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However, on July 8, 2016, the Indian Security Forces had killed Burhan Wani, and all hell broke loose.

 

In the span of merely days, Muskan witnessed the blood of her fellow Kashmiri spilling into the streets. Death tolls rose. Ambulances were damaged. Pellets, stones, and bullets whizzed through the air. It took just a few seconds to directly change the future of hundreds of Kashmiris for the worse, and many more had to observe the bloodshed.

 

This lit a fire inside Muskan. She said that she “wanted to learn about war to stop war,” which she says with such an inspiring vigor that you can’t help but think that this is her mission at Stanford.

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Stanford

Prior to her arrival at Stanford at ISO (International Student Orientation), she considered her pen to be her greatest weapon, but only because of her circumstances. Now she sees her speech to be her strongest asset because she can actually use it here.

 

Muskan’s is a story of strength amidst censorship, of bravery despite adversity.

 

She wanted to come to Stanford “for the freedom it gave [her], the power it gave [her].” She remembers the days where she had to limit herself in her speech and uses that frustration as fuel behind her every word, whether it be fluently spoken or articulately written.

 

Because of her prior experiences, Muskan confesses that she still feels goosebumps, a bodily badge of honor, each time she signs “Best, Muskan Shafat” at the end of each of her emails. Although she worked tirelessly into the night and even into the morning sometimes, she claims that she can’t take all the credit.

 

Muskan acknowledges the insurmountable odds her parents had to overcome to get her to where she is today. Her parents have made miracles happen for her, so she is ready to make miracles happen to give back to them.

 

“[She is] not studying for [herself], but [she is] studying for [them] as well.”

 

The war may have had some adverse effects on her education, life, and her province, but it’s safe to say that she has triumphed despite the warfare. In fact, she’s fighting a battle on her own terms, and by the looks of it, she’s winning.

 

You can read more about Muskan Shafat’s personal experiences in her blog.