Azaad Is Missing




One: Rebellion

"Don't wander looking for me,

For me, I am here in you. You don't fight wars alone,

You Unite." 

A voice hissed and made me choke, forcing me to awaken. It was 4:05, barely the life was in action and Azaad was right there too. I convince myself and dissipate the idea of that lady with a cloth tied around her eyes. And then I try falling back to my sleep as I cover myself with the blanket.

It was the second week of November as the smog started surrounding the city and the rag pickers and the homeless start settling to the shelters built by the government. Delhi experiences temperature falling to a tad bit cold forcing people to take out their winter apparels.

It is said that in our university, the temperature drops comparatively lower than the rest of the city due to the high amount of forest cover and restricted use of motor vehicles. We are, then packed with jackets and draped with shawls. But this winter was of stark difference, for the new set of restrictions imposed by the provost to enhance surveillance on the students. 

It was imperative that the new regulations must be challenged and opposed by the student federation.

"Bring back our liberty!" proclaimed one of the sloganeers.

"LIBERTY! LIBERTY! LIBERTY!" echoed with the shouts of the rest of the order as they were chanting in front of the administrative department. The student federation decided to wear black in the movement for

attaching symbolism and sketched posters and banners to enunciate the reason for their resistance. 

Another couplet was coined "Freedom is what we insist,

Freedom is what you

resist!" which was the motto of our

rebellion.

As the dusk approached and the campus, the people used to dissipate in a multitude of groups and would then talk of how their ideologies speak not only for the students but for the whole nation. "Politic" is what was the forte of our institution. It would be the same reason, the way the inhabitants would rarely be conscious of the sense of clothes they draped, the language they spoke. It is also said that the institution is the prototype of what India should be like, the way people come from far off corners, from all religions, caste, class, and community. With such a diversity bearing nation, it is seemingly impossible to call India nation state yet all these people from different backgrounds come together, stay together and fight for a unified cause : equity and equality. The new regulations had only made us more unified and certain to fight.

I hail from a scanty region Barh in Bihar where people are still stuck in the shackles of casteism and my friend hails from the region where people are fighting for normalcy in administration, a highly volatile area. The valley of Kashmir, a place where people seek freedom from our own military forces with effect of AFSPA(Armed Forces Special Power Act). He is slightly tall, quite fair from what you see in rest of the India with dark brown eyes and a frown which he carries always with him. He features a sharp nose with scar on the right cheek when he was attacked with the knife by one of his own, it is partially covered by his prominent beard. He is acquiring the art of International Relations whereas I am pursuing my master's in Economics.

As the second day of protest continues, the provost shows up for a dialogue to ratify the situation overpowering the university administration. The student leader is summoned Shlok Kumar to hold the dialogue with the provost. He hails from the district of Darbhanga, Bihar whose father is a marginalised farmer and has been in situations of mild poverty. Succeeding on from a substandard government school, he has made a great

leap from the situation he's faced and is pursuing his education with the government fellowship.

"Shlok, why is this issue escalating so much? Did we not discuss it earlier?" inquired the provost.

"Did I give a different answer back then? I have already opposed these new restrictions in the discussion panel and confronted its implementation on our university as liberty is what he has always strived for." lashed Shlok in his dialect of Bihari as he composed each sentence slowly and ineffectively but the message reached. Shlok is someone who has astounding command in his Hindi oratory skills.

"Don't talk like how everyone is reacting" insisted the Provost

"I am merely their voice, their opinion. It shall only echo until what we want is provided for." confidently he added.

As the dialogue was heading nowhere, the Provost finally decided to lift some of the rules yet keep the others intact. Though the amount of repeal was not as expected but it was a victory as they were able to pressurize the administrative council which will help them remove the restrictions when they reacted next.

So with the negotiations, the leader returned and told the protest was effective. Many applauded and cheered with their victory slogans but some were dubious of how this negotiations failed and will be creating a havoc in the student life in the coming days, and brought discontentment on the faces of the students who had analyzed this decision.

I was initially happy but Azaad's worry made me inquire the whole impact of this outcome. But I soon moved out and my attention was diverted to a lot of other issues going on at that point of time, like how the Paris accord was affecting our nation, what new financial policies are going to be implemented and contemplating how it is going to affect the society at large. I was with my other set of classmates at the Tibetan canteen savoring Thukpa and chicken dumplings while Azaad was still in his room. As I returned to my room, he was lying straight on his bed with his journal. After a year and a half, it was understood not to disturb him while he's out there in the world of deep intellectual war with himself, so I proceeded to get on my bed.

Azaad came to me " Ashwet, I'm going down on a stroll, I'll be out for some time, do not keep the door locked."

I nodded in confirmation with his request, it was quite normal as I then dozed off.

Two: Evanesce

With my alarm ringing constantly at 8:30 from the last three months, woke me up as I rushed to the class without looking for Azaad, assuming he'd have already left like always.

But there was something which hinted that somehow the situation is not usual. I discarded the doubts foreseeing my individuality of reaching the class on time as the professor is extremely austere towards his class lectures.

Somehow I managed to make it through the day and returned to drop the widespread famous sling bag woven by the cottage industry aided by our university comrades.

As I reached out to the bed for a partial nap, Azaad's absence struck me like a brick on my temple. I got up, tried to call him, but the operator responded

"The number you are trying to call is not reachable. Please try again later" in a robotic female voice moduled to irritate its consumers.

And suddenly I looked upto his desk, a stick note was hurling with the fan's wind force, and on the desk was kept his journal, which he would never dare to let loose for even a single moment from his possession. I can, with my sheer confidence say that Azaad's most prized possession is the diary of his sonnets and verses that have moved him through his existence.

This suddenly made me realise he hasn't been around since last night when he went for a stroll. The sticky note written read

"I am away, yet I am somewhere veiled,

I might be alive like the frozen peaks,

Or am i dead in the barren feild,

I want to escape, but can't hear my own loudest shrieks.

Lost is too simple to assume,

I'm taken away is what you must presume

Yours Azaad"

I sprinted down to room 135, five rooms down to mine to inquire Shaurya, his classmate

"Where is Azaad, did you see him anywhere today?"

Shaurya replied "he'd be fucking around with the new students here, last I saw him was after the protest when we were churning some grass to smoke."

"SHIT! This is crashing my head. FUCK ME!"

"Ashwet, what's happening? Is Azaad not here ? " he exclaimed with much shock

"No." as i left the room crashing the door and went straight to the guard.

"Mangal Sahab, my room mate hasn't returned since last night, he isn't here. Neither he has attended the lecture nor his phone is being answered."

"Bhaiya check other room, he sure will be inside. Maybe having goodtime with the females." As the guard was much under surety with his tattered grammar that Azaad would be here.

So I nearly went across all his classmates to find him. Lalita Prajapati, who was involved with him lately informed that yesternight she asked him" if you want to come and relax as we bumped into each other on the corridor. But he was in a hurry with panic emitting from his expressions."

I was sceptical whether she was speaking the truth as her round face with a radiating wide perfect smile always made me unsure of her intentions. But that was none of my concern for that moment. A friend told me that I should inform the proctor in the morning as he'd investigate the issue further if Azaad doesn't returns by the morning.

So I decided to return to my room and with disappointment, I resorted to my bed thinking about where he'd gone and waiting for him at the same time. I slowly surrendered myself in the helm of hopelessness with his journal secured by my arms.

"Azaad where have you been? I've been looking for you so desperately. Where have you gone? Why did you disappear all of a sudden?"

"Ermm, I went on for a stroll, there i found was a obstacle, neither human nor natural but it was insisting me to help it. So I was trying my bit to get it going."

"What are you even saying?"

As something suddenly came from the dark and started pulling him away to darkness and I tried resisting but it won't help and I screamed

"Let him go!"

"They are taking me away Ashwet, bring me back. I want to be here with you and everyone."

"AZAAD!" I yelled in anguish as I am holding his hand.

"But I cannot be rendered with just your trying,

I want everyone one collectively to bring me back as their efforts might drive me back home, home to you, home to my peers, home to struggle. Please Ashwet!"

He pleaded as he was being pulled by the mighty force.

And all I could do and say was "AZAAAAAAD!"

And my own shriek woke me up on my bed with sweat riding through my temple to the neck to my palms.

I quickly got back into my senses and realized that was a nightmare, the darkest and scariest of all. These nightmares were frequent and horrifying but nothing ever shook me like this.

As i gathered myself back to where I was, it already had been dawn and there was no sign of him, my dear Azaad.

I decided to skip my classes and proceeded directly to the administrative building. This building was nothing extraordinary in terms of structure but it was painted red. The red of blood, the red of struggle, the red of equity, the red of communism. Along with it, graffitis of liberation leaders were painted and sprayed which resonated an ambiguous yet positive vibe to me and to the whole lot. As soon I entered through the main gate, I reached to the Provost and told him about the whole incident and he care freely replied "he'd be somewhere hiding in your ideas of revolution, nothing that you should be worried about."

I retorted with how I've siphoned the whole students' residence and inquired the guards.

He then made me write a letter about the incidence and assured to look into it.

Three: Return

I resorted back to my room and this time unfolded his journal to see if it could have helped. The last page of the tanned leather notebook wrote a verse

"I am here, when everyone is;

Find me when everyone feels my absence,

I am you, in your hopes until everyone makes me HIS,

Then in the most uncertain situation, you shall have my presence."

This verse made mee go paranoid on him and really rueful if he is trying to put on a riddle to find him. But why would he do that? He's someone who's always been there and been pro-existence.

As the evening came to an end with the fog worsening the visibility of the campus and it would mean finding him will be much more complicated. The dawn set pace slowly now and there was no sign of the sun and I left the room and took a walk around the campus, posters were glued to buildings with the head font in capital stating

"AZAAD IS MISSING"

Azaad, our fellow comrade has been suspected missing on the grounds of mysterious circumstances since November 5 night. If anyone has any kind of information related to it, please contact the student leader or the Provost.

In Public Notice Administration Dept. "

Days passed, without even a tiny thread of information. But one thing did happen, all the students of our university were aware of his disappearance. This made a big stir on the campus and few groups decided to call on an indefinite protest until Azaad is found outside the Administrative Block, the police were present too with a few reporters covering the event. This protest continued for a week until the search intensified and the administration and the police were under huge pressure.

The same evening everyone gathered to organise a candlelight march. Adding on to it, the students in a collective "Azaad! Waapas Aao" "Azaad come back!"

The students had never been so unified fighting for one of their own, for themselves, for freeing Azaad.

The same evening Azaad reappeared on the campus as the university executives went on their knees in command of the people's power. Azaad is back! But who is he?

And soon the university functioned in the same manner it had been since last 90 years and the ideas of revolution were discussed, spread and criticised. It was the last week of November and everyone was seen moving around in jackets and shawls and mufflers over it. They were walking through the haze, the smoke embedded fog of the National Capital. Yet their ideas and paths were surprisingly clear and free.