There was once a verdant garden, salubrious and vigorous, a ‘garden of life’ that turned even non-living creatures to living ones. It was this garden which defined my entire world and my life is indebted to it. Its charm was not confined to me but had fascinated people from times immemorial and had made them sing songs of praise in its honour. Some had wished to go to eternal sleep in the womb of this garden, so serene and tranquil it felt.
The garden was beautiful in every aspect, be it cascading water, lush grass, never-ageing trees, and a climate in every sense wholesome. People from other places would come to share in its blessings. And then, all of a sudden, calamity fell upon this garden.
No one had any inkling that such a horrendous catastrophe shall befall this garden. Macabre in character, it took away all the life-giving qualities this garden was bestowed with, and made it a ground upon which walked death. The assimilative characteristics for which it was famous were shorn in one go.
But nature remains nature, and though the charm of this garden has faded, its natural beauty still is welcoming and strengthening. Here variegated types of flowers, trees, plants, give breath to animals and birds who sing merry songs. Chirping birds every morning infuse this space with new vigour. To those who suffer from trauma, it provides a refuge, a passage into a world unknown to others. Ensconced within it, we become oblivious to the apocalypse around us.
So enchanted is this space that one becomes engrossed in thoughts beyond the materiality and mortality of things. Though much has changed, but its innate nature is still intact. We all are aware of the fact that the lion can’t give up its character, nor can the deer; so is this garden. But I worry for it; I am overtaken by grisly thoughts regarding the fading life of this garden and I am haunted by sepulchral images. My nights bring horrifying dreams in lurid colours, of red water and white clothes. I have become a somnambulist and I walk with sudden jumps over barbed wires laid in this garden. Sometimes when a jolt wakes me from the dream, I find myself bathed in sweat and shuddering. I try to come out of a schizophrenic state in which I both revel in happiness and wallow in thoughts of loss. Maybe it is natural that the garden which defined my entire world haunts me. The garden seems to me suddenly bereft of life and as having lost all its verdure, its cascading streams, its mowed down trees, its vanished animals and birds.
I often wonder who did this or why did it happen. Is it man’s lust for power that makes some suffer at the cost of others? Petty material interests or demagoguery and chicanery that desolates places buzzing with life? I am amazed at how people become trapped and stultified. How mere speeches drive them to destroying gardens of life. I feel that hate, bitterness, jealousy, and malice have become the characteristics of people and societies. Concerted efforts are being made to indoctrinate generations with such characteristics, be it at the institutional level or of families, social groups, political spaces, so that people look at those outside their circles as the ‘other’. This way of looking at the ‘other’ makes people feel no culpability in destroying the lives of others. Unless and until we educate our children in love, kindness, and humanity, we shouldn’t expect life-giving gardens to be secure.
I hope even in hopelessness that my garden will regain its vigour and salubriousness. All shades and colours of plants, flowers, animals and birds will fill it once again. It will regain its character of assimilation and life will thrive in it once again.

Ishfaq Abdullah and Mohd Ishfaq Wani