The photo series “Roz” (Persian: “day / daily”) consists of pictures that I took during my stay in Kashmir. Kashmir is one of the most beautiful places in the world, a natural paradise and a region that has been in constant conflict for more than half a century. The selected images represent the contradiction between everyday events and the real situation. – Ritu Arya

रोज़ | Roz – Ritu Arya

[Meaning – Daily/Every day]

Kashmir is a name that has always been portrayed as a breathtaking dream, and it undoubtedly is one. Although when you’re physically there, I am not sure how pleasant the dream can feel. About four years ago, a little after the beginning of this continuing restless phase of my life, amidst looking for an escape, I decided to finally visit the place that we have all grown up listening about – the heaven on earth. So, I booked a one way ticket to the capital city, completely unsure of how long the stay would be, or what the experience would be like, but I do remember doing a quick jiggle on my sofa immediately after the ticket showed up in my mail.

All I had was a virtual acquaintance from the creative field who seemed to be as emotionally driven as I was – his company didn’t last for more than four days and the complete duration of me being there turned out to be of about forty days. During the first visit, which was the longest, I had to consciously and abruptly leave after thirty days [to a friend in Himachal Pradesh], because all I did during the stay was wander about, get into conversations with strangers, walk some more, cry some now and then [sometimes alone and sometimes with them], listening to stories [some absolute horrifying ones]; and my heart just kept getting heavier with each passing moment, with each sunrise and sunset. There’s many incidents to count, the ones that brought a little more agitation and worsened this feeling of helplessness. But the longing and the desire to go back stayed, it still lingers, even today. I can still see myself walk through the streets and the lanes of the capital and the near by towns – Me trying to grasp the beauty, mouth wide open, unable to fathom how magnificent a place can be. The concoction of beauty and pain does that I guess, doesn’t it?

A series of tragic events occurred during my stay, some tragic to the state as a whole and some personal. Life certainly changed after this trip, and not a single day goes by when Kashmir doesn’t run through the stream of my consciousness. It isn’t possible to get into the details of each episode or encounter, but looking back at every second spent there on my own or with people that I made acquaintance with [all from different backgrounds – some artists, musicians, businessmen, reporters, young students, etc.]; what I gathered was a sense of reality, which isn’t something that most of the people can see from a distance, as most of us are too busy staring at the picturesque calendar/screen saver that we hoard along with some nonsense notions about the region and it’s people. In no way I am implying that I have completely understood all the bits about the tragic state of this beautiful land. I probably never will. But what I know for sure is that it’s not a matter anyone is willing to solve and it’s complicated way beyond anyone’s imagination. And that it has done nothing but bring immense torment to everyone involved in the crisis – more than seven decades and still counting.

Gradually and reluctantly, I have disconnected myself from all the kind people I met there, because the guilt of somehow being responsible for how things are doesn’t go away. And apart from deep dejection, I am not sure what any new conversations would bring. I am sharing a few images here, from what is just another regular day in Kashmir, except, it isn’t regular like ours is.