...he was a kashmiri

yesterday, after my office i decided to do some shopping. I took up a taxi for local irani market. On my way to market my driver asked, "where are you from sir". " i am from bombay" i replied asking him the same question. He hesitated and then replied caustiously " main pakistan se hun". oh cool...showing overjoy and trying to make him comfortable i asked "where in pakistan man". after a long pause he said, " kashmir.... i am from Pakistan occupied kashmir". He turned to me to know my reaction and then contiued, "i hope you are not going to take me for a terrorist, as in india our part of world is considered 'a terrorist ground'.......we kashmiries are not terrorist....we are peace loving people and want to live a life with honour and prosperity like rest of the world does. But the politicians of both the countries will not let us do so, as they have their own political agendas. Pakistan makes us moujahidin saying urgent requirement for our freedom and india slaughters naming us terrorist. I have lost my four young children in the name of jihad." he cries and then continues "Today at the age of 65, i have to come to another country and drive a taxi so that i can feed my familymembers as i am the only male left alive in my family". He takes a pause and then continues, "It's to tiring for me now. I am fighting my age everyday. Hope I will run for another 2 - 3 years. what will happen after that? who will feed my family after me? who will guarantee their security?" ...he kept on with his questions but perhaps after that i lost my hearing capabilities. With the jerk of taxi when i got my conscience back I found him looking at me stopping his taxi. I was sitting shy, wondering if i have anything to offer which in any sense might become consoling for him! Almost for next two minutes he kept gazing at me and i kept looking down paralyzed by his questions. Eventually he broke the silence requesting me to get down as we had reached the Irani market. I paid him the fare and headed. after reaching near the marker gate i looked back. he was still staring at me with sad smirk and expressionless face asking the same questions again and agian. Perhaps he had expected little more than some qatari riyals, perhaps an answer...which i didn't have. I hurried myself inside the market to avoid his blank look and questioning eye...and... to be in my comfortable world.