[Livestream Transcript – April 22, 2:50 PM IST]
@WanderWithTara: “LIVE from Heaven on Earth!”
Tara tilted her phone to capture the view behind her, the clouds resting gently on snow dusted mountains, pine trees stout and motionless, and the faint shimmer of Dal Lake far below. She framed herself perfectly for the livestream, with chin up and sunglasses reflecting the landscapes like screensavers on a windows personal computer.
“Okay, you have to see this, Loook at that viewww. That’s Dal Lake. And do you hear that sound?. .Ohh no, you dont? exactly!! so peaceful, no traffic, no honks”
The comments poured in.
@adityatravels: “Where is this spot? Unreal!”
@meher: “You’re glowing girl 😍”
@NishiFearsALot: “Still feels risky, no?”
Tara smiled faintly and flipped the camera back around.
“Honestly guys? It’s peaceful. The locals are lovely, and there’s local chaiwaala shops everywhere and we get to do horse rides as well. I mean, I haven’t felt this calm in months. Definitely come here when you get a slightest bit of chance.”
That’s when the sound came.
A sharp, loud pop, like a bottle cap snapping off of a pretty big bottle. Then two more.
Tara like a cute little child, giggled and laughed.
“Whoa! Firecrackers? Maybe a wedding nearby?”
But something shifted in the air. Birds erupted from the trees in a chaotic wave. Her smile went off. She turned. Her camera, still livestreaming, caught the sight of distant figures, blurry, fast approaching, scattered tourists sprinting from the vast open meadow.
@deepvibez: “Why are people running???”
@pranavlive: “This looks serious, Tara end the stream.”
The phone shook as Tara pulled it to her chest and started walking fast, then jogging. Her breath picked up. In the background: more pops. The wind was no longer the loudest sound. She ran and hid behind a pine tree with her camera still rolling.
She stopped the stream without saying goodbye.
Tara was defeaned by the head rush she had after her quick actions.
She pressed herself into the earth, knees muddy, back against a tree trunk. Her phone was still in her hand, the livestream app now frozen with a black dark “Ended” screen.
It was supposed to be a three to four day trip. Her guide had dropped her off at noon with a packed lunch, a location pin, and he also mentioned: “Call by five. I’ll pick you up before sunset.”
It was only 3:10. Tara is coming back to her senses
From somewhere far, she could hear the voices echoed, Muffled and Distant.
Her hands trembled. She unlocked her phone instinctively trying to call her mom, but what would she say?
She checked her messages.
Mira:
“Girl your stream just died mid-run. U okay??”
“TARA??”
“Call me NOW”
She typed:
“Under tree. Hiding. Don’t know what’s happening.”
It didn’t go through.
The clouds above shifted slowly, dragging the shadows across the pine needles. Tara’s heartbeat was still too loud in her ears. She thought of her last conversation with her mom.
“Just be careful. Some places are not meant to be seen with a camera.”
She had rolled her eyes then. Now, the words felt heavier. She wanted to see everything and feel it and wanted all to happen in front of her.
But now she hesitates.
Tara tried to look good, opened her camera
She started recording again, this time not for livestream, but for herself.
[Video – 3:31 PM]
Her voice was soft like the world around her shouldn’t know what she was doing now. “I don’t know what’s going on. I think I’m safe for now. I don’t want to panic anyone. If someone finds this later, I just want to say… I was trying to show beauty. I wasn’t looking for danger. I didn’t know this place could change in a minute.”
Paused and she had drops falling of her eyes. “I always thought I’d run fast in fear. Like super hero movie fast. But I froze, I couldn’t move.”
She laughed silently..
“There was this kid earlier in his madrasa clothes. He gave me a wildflower. I pressed it into my journal, I hope it’s still there. I hope someone finds that, too.”
She ends the recording, but didn’t get a chance to switch it off.
*bang*
The birds flew as the sound echoed through the woods.
The phone dies at 3:47 PM.
It is found two days later by a local. The screen is cracked, but the footage remained intact. Her backpack also lies nearby. The wildflower is still in her notebook, flattened, fragile, withered and yellow.
And her last selfie, the one from before the first sound, is the one that circulates. Her smile, the background and the caption:
“Sometimes you don’t know you’re in a memory until it’s already behind you.”
To those who never returned from Pahalgam, may your final moments be remembered not in fear, but in the beauty you came seeking.
Rest in peace..
The events that led to me writing this short story :
https://ajayan.substack.com/p/pahalgam-attack