Rajesh Raina راجیش رینہ 🇮🇳

These Kashmiri Muslim women narrate, how the Kashmiri “Mujahideen”, started raping them at a very young age. These “Mujahideen” would visit their homes for food or overnight stay etc., and would perpetrate sexual violence. In some instances if they liked a married woman, they would kill her husband to have their way with her. Link to the full interview in comments.

It was 3 pm at Swargadwar cremation ground in Puri. Sabyasachi, 35 years old, who was a Vice President in a big software company in America, came straight from the airport to the cremation ground. His father, Pradipta Mishra, 75 years old, had passed away the previous night. Sabyasachi was holding an expensive laptop bag and wearing Ray Ban glasses. He looked very busy and kept checking his watch again and again. Tarun from Moksha Event Management, a funeral service company, was standing there. He had arranged everything. The wood was ready, the priest had been called, and Pradipta Mishra’s body was bathed and prepared. Sabyasachi arrived. He looked at his father’s face. Two drops of tears fell from his eyes. He asked Tarun, “Mr Tarun, is everything ready? I have to catch a return flight at 6 pm. I have an important meeting tomorrow. Please finish this quickly.” Tarun was shocked but quietly nodded. The rituals were completed. Sabyasachi lit the funeral fire. Smoke rose into the sky. Then he took Tarun aside and took out his checkbook. He said, “Tarun, thank you. You arranged everything well. What is your bill? Fifty thousand or one lakh? Tell me the amount, I will write the cheque now. I cannot come again. Please also take care of the ashes.” Tarun smiled strangely and said, “Sir, there is no need to pay. Your bill has already been paid.” Sabyasachi was confused. “Already paid? Who paid? Did my uncle pay?” Tarun replied, “No sir. Five years ago, your father came to our office. He was very sick and could hardly walk. He asked us, what is your package? Will you manage everything so that my son does not face any problem?” “We explained everything to him. That same day he deposited fifty thousand rupees in advance. He also gave me this letter. He told me, when my son comes, give him this letter. And if he does not come, you perform my last rites.” Tarun gave the letter to Sabyasachi. With shaking hands, Sabyasachi opened it. In his father’s weak handwriting, it was written: “Dear Sabyasachi, My son, I know you are very busy. In America you may not even get time to breathe. I know when you hear about my death, you will be worried. Will I get leave? Will I get a ticket? What about my meeting? These questions will trouble you. Son, your time and career are very important. I raised you so that you can win the world. Do not suffer loss for the body of an old man. That is why I have arranged everything for my death in advance. I have already paid this organization. They will manage everything. If you come, good. If you do not come, I will not be angry. I have only one request. When you were small and I dropped you at school, I never left your hand. Today when you light my funeral fire, may your hand not shake. Return soon. Your wife will be waiting. Yours, Baba” After reading the letter, the checkbook fell from Sabyasachi’s hand into the mud. In that cremation ground, where the sound of burning wood was heard, Sabyasachi’s pride and career also turned into ashes. He fell on his knees. “Baba, forgive me, Baba.” He held Tarun’s feet and cried, “Tarun, I do not want to go back to America. I want to stay with my father. I earned crores of rupees, but in the end I became a beggar. My father was thinking about my meeting even at the time of his death, and I was paying for his last rites?” That day Sabyasachi did not catch his flight. He sat the whole night in front of the burning pyre. Because in the end he understood: Prepaid can be for a SIM card. But a father’s love is never prepaid. A father’s love is endless, and no money in the world can repay it. Lesson: No matter how big you become in the world, no matter how much money you earn, when the parents who once changed your clothes need you at the end of their life, do not turn your face away. Any company can perform the funeral. But tears cannot be bought from outside. Those tears should come only from blood relations.

A heartfelt final tribute to dear Rajinder Tickoo through his beloved Ladishah — the voice that touched countless hearts. May his noble soul rest in eternal peace. 😢