A tryst with the calamitous fear of the (UN)known

Since the time I ever understood what terrorism and violence is, I have been reading about the misery and tragedy unleashed by the naxalites. Very often when I used to turn through the pages of the local daily in my hometown I could see the images of spilled blood and torn piece of bodies after an ambush. Naxalites have been overpowering both the government and the law and order in the entire region and probably it has become a way of life in here. The only feeling or action which was common across all the readers was a “sigh” and all including me were in the delusion that we are close to understanding the sentiments of the affected villages cities or families.
But it was only yesterday when I realized how wrong I was. It was in those long 4 hours drive from Jamshedpur to Bokaro, I felt what the fear of unknown terror is. As my car hurried across the streets of Chandil (a major centre for naxalite activities), I could see the terror on my face in the eyes of a few people walking down the streets. Over a vast stretch of some 200 kilometres, I could almost count the number of vehicles which ran past me. They were not more than 30. Every time a car passed by us it gave me a reassurance that probably everything is fine on the other end. As my car turned and zig zagged on the hilly terrains my eyes kept looking endlessly on those hills which is the abode of the “RED TERROR.” One never knows from where those separatist groups might come in and put in a few dozen bullets in your body. Only a couple of days back, a jeep full of several soldiers were blown apart into pieces while they were patrolling on the same roads I was currently on. Every 10 minutes I used to seek reassurance if we have crossed Jharkhand and entered the West Bengal as the strike which these people had called was only for Jharkhand and Bihar.
Probably it is the first time I am finding it so difficult with the words to express my thought process, rather my fear. I just don’t have the right words which would probably suffice to ascertain the amount of fear I faced.
But while all this, I was forced to wonder and ponder upon the effects, implications and consequences of the distortion of the entire social and political and economic fabric of the country. Political because the entire issue is very much politically relevant and it needs to attract a major attention of any political agenda which claims to provide a safe life to its people.
Economical because only a businessman or a shop owner or a self employed or people on those lines can feel the brunt of not being able to work for 1 full day and lose a huge amount of potential revenue. And if by chance the loss of men and material which happen during all the merciless attacks by these Naxalites
Social because they aren’t anyone outside the country. They are our own people who have lost their mind big way. They are our own educated people who have no jobs to look after their family. They are our own people who might have not had a childhood as good as we had. And they are our own people who sadly don’t hesitate for a second before burning you alive. This is nothing but a perfect recipe which would ultimately lead to a complete anarchy and may be annihilation of the entire social set up which took centuries to be established.
I don’t have any rational solution to this nor was my objective to give any. Probably I wrote this to pay a tribute to all the Jawans who died fighting for our safety and thousands of innocent men women and children who couldn’t even understand their fault before being massacred. And to people living in there who pass each day of their life in a kind of fear which made me almost go crazy and insane in just 4 hours.