Tear Gas Didn't Make Us Cry

THE ENCOUNTER

It was a restless night. Despite having assured myself that nothing could bother me inside the confinement of my room, my mind always seemed to find something that would trouble me. I only got a few hours of sleep and even then flashes from earlier that day would make me uneasy. Somehow I got through the night. I woke up for my morning prayers and went back to sleep and thankfully it was more relaxing and refreshing than the night. I woke up around 9 30 and had breakfast. It was the first meal I had since last morning and it sure felt like it too. There was going to be a protest today too, but I still had conflict of thoughts whether to attend or not. I debated with myself and eventually convinced myself to go. Every step I took towards JMI, my heart would beat faster, I was still in fear from yesterday and I wasn't alone. The students there were all visibly shaken but yet carried on. The protest went smoothly. Everything was peaceful, despite the police still stationed there, our sloganeering and chanting went on all day. I returned home by dawn but the many protestors stayed there all night singing the Jamia anthem.
I woke slightly more refreshed the next day but still sat in my bed for a while. I only zoned in to reality when my aunt switched on the television. JMI was still all over the news. I didn't quite watch it as I was in the other room but I could make out by the faint sounds that day before yesterday’s events were in all the headlines. I took my plate and moved out to the living room. The media was playing a certain footage of students throwing stones on loop. We switched the channel to find someplace where they would describe the situation for what it was. We eventually found a news broadcaster that gave near accurate description but moreover, they were showing live coverage of this morning protest. I quickly rushed to my room to get my phone. Perhaps I was too deeply asleep to realize the 16 missed calls on my phones followed by countless messages and updates on Instagram and WhatsApp. The protest was on today despite the placement of police. I quickly changed and rushed out. I was joined by Hussein and Mohammed, my two closest friends on the way to the university. All three of us had visible bruises but none of said a word. We reached the campus and pushed our way through the crowd to find a good spot and join the others.
It wasn't long after we arrived that we had started moving out towards Batla House. Our slogans from yesterday were now accompanied with new ones that portrayed our aggression and enthusiasm in a more depictive manner. We hadn't gotten too far when we were stopped by the police. A lot of us including myself were expecting something like yesterday to take place but thankfully we all just stood at our spots and carried the protest further from there. The police too did nothing but stood behind the barricade. Some time went by and we all continued the demonstration the way we planned, just then we got news that another group of Jamia students were headed towards Mata Mandir road so we all decided to join them. We turned around and walked our way there. The distance although exasperating seemed almost like a stone-throw away. Our intention to bring a change overpowered the pain and distance quite easily. On the way there we saw a group of policemen across the road waiting alongside a few empty buses. It seemed absurd to have empty buses parked, but now was certainly not the time to focus on it. We carried ourselves to a point where we joined the other students and continued our sloganeering. This went smoothly for a while till we were stopped again by a barricade. We weren't worried anymore since the last encounter earlier today went peacefully and that was our intention even now. Suddenly the police gushed towards us on another spree of lathi charge. We were all retreating again. This time I could make out what was happening and perhaps on a much larger scale.
With most student accumulated towards our side, there wasn't really much of security at the campus. Not to mention the amount of police force at our tails at the moment. While we all ran in multiple directions all mainly headed towards the main campus, there was already emerging news that some students of JMI had set fire to some buses on the road. It wasn't possible, our slogans although aggressive, our March and protest was carried out with immense peace. Back at the campus, things were extremely brutal. Tear gas not only infiltrated the campus vicinity but also intoxicated the areas around it. As I approached the campus, it became harder to breathe and see. It strained my eyes to get a clear picture but I could see some force coming towards me. I quickly turned away and hid behind a nearby car to catch my breath. I would peak out once in a while to see if matters were suitable enough to get me inside the campus grounds, after all I would be safe there. But despite straining myself I couldn't make much of what was happening. I mustered up my courage and got out of my hiding spot and ran towards the nearest campus gate. I had made good progress and almost made it when something hit me on my back. The impact was painful and had me stumbling. I was too afraid to turn around and see what it was, so I kept on running. My legs were getting tired trying to dodge the policeman that would come my way, I even took a few hits but they weren't hard enough to break my momentum. Right before I reached the college gate, I was hit by that same thing again, this time on my left leg. The impact pinned me to the ground. That's when I turned and saw what it was, A RUBBER BULLET. The police had started to take extreme measures to get us under control.
My body was aching, my eyes were tearing, my heart was pounding and my hope was breaking. Despite this I somehow limped into the campus and fell to my knees behind a wall. I couldn't think of anything at that moment. All I did was take out my phone and made a call to Mohammed to see if he was ok. It kept ringing and ringing till I realized that he wouldn't pick up so I tried to Hussein. He too didn't pick up. Inside the campus a lot of students were limping and looking for help. Multiple staff members were bleeding and injured and looked like in need of immediate medical attention. But the campus was supposed to be safe right. They couldn't do anything to us while we were within the educational institute, so I had thought and my god was I wrong. More force was called in and now the police authorities had barged into the campus. Any stairwell I would use to escape, I would find pints of blood. Every time I came across the sight of spilt blood, my heart would almost skip a beat.
I wanted to cry for help but that when I realized, you only cry for help when there is help to cry for. Those who we thought would protect us were the ones that we were seeking protection from.