Saturday, February 25, 2017

Open letter to Shehla Rashid from a Kashmiri Hindu

Shehla Rashid,

I am Aditya Tikoo. It was the morning of 19th January 1990. I (then 5) was playing with my mother on the bed. She was 7 months pregnant. She took me in her lap and asked – “what do you want – baby brother or sister?”. “Brother” – I replied. She kissed my forehead and held her hand on my head in affection.

Suddenly we heard a noise outside. It was some mob that was nearing our house. It kept getting noisy with each moment. My father who had gone outside rushed into the house and came to our room. I saw his eyes full of fear for the first time. He was a school master in Srinagar. “They are coming”, he said.

I felt my mother’s grip around me was tightened suddenly. I looked at her face. She fainted. I asked, what happened? She almost cried, said- nothing Bachcha. She covered me with her shawl. I could clearly hear her heartbeats as my ears were pushed against her. Her heart was beating abnormally. I could not see her face now. It was all dark inside. But now I could realise, she was wiping her tears.

The procession was now outside our locality which had 7-8 Hindu homes. Someone from the mob shouted – “Thats the master’s house”. And then started the announcement from the nearby mosques – “Asi gachchi Pakistan, Batao roas te Batanev san” (we want to become Pakistan with Hindu women not with their men). It was announced by the mob. All men must leave valley leaving behind their women. Some of them kicked the gate and pelted stones at the window. We were terrified. I was in mother’s arms. Who was shivering. Carrying three hearts. Two within, one in arms.

Mosques started making announcements after announcements. It was a recorded cassette with Islamic songs warning the idolaters. To free Kashmir from Kufra. Azadi ka matlab kya La ilaah illillaah.

Few minutes later, 3-4 males from the locality knocked the door. My father opened it in fear. They were Hindu neighbours. Came to inform we are leaving in 2 hours. They have gone mad. They won’t listen to us. They won’t let us live anymore. This is our last day in valley.

While they were discussing how to flee, those words of mob – Asi gachchi Pakistan, Batao roas te Batanev san were playing in my mind endlessly. I only knew a woman in my life. She was my mother. I asked myself, what will they do with my mother? Why do they want her for Pakistan? I asked after a silence – Maa, what are they saying? Who are they? Why will they take you away? Will I go with you?

Na bachcha. I am your mother. I will be with you always – she cried bursting into tears.

In few hours, my father arranged tickets for us. Mother packed a few things – some jewellery, cash and a Shiva Ling. I was looking at her in fear while she was packing. She was constantly crying. She consoled me a couple of times and pretended she is fine. But I knew she wasn’t.

We left home in the noise of loudspeakers from mosques. I can still hear those voices. Those aggressive tones, words and call for action. I could see skullcaps around staring at us with the glare of victory. Eyes that wanted to peel the skin off my mother and eat her flesh.

My father tried to pick me up since mother was advised not to lift heavy things. I thought if I leave her, she will go with mob.

I cried like never before. I said – Maa take me with you. Don’t leave. She tried to explain- I am not leaving. I am with you. Just be with Dad. I refused. My father cried for the first time. He forcibly snatched me from mother again. I was so terrified that I almost felt unconscious.

When I got my consciousness back, I found myself in mother’s lap in the bus. She was crying and thanking God. We fled the valley. There were thousands like us. We lived in a tent in Jammu for next 2 months. A lot happened there.

My mother had miscarriage. She lost the child. She lost the smile forever. A few years ago, I got to know the full story. When I fell unconscious, she did not let Dad touch me. She carried me for all the time so that when I open my eyes, I find her right in front. Because this is what I wanted. To be carried by her. She walked and ran for 5 long kilometers carrying two children – one in arms, one inside to catch the bus. She got the bus but lost her other child.

We are settled in Delhi now. With her sacrifice and blessings, I am doing well in life. My mother doesn’t talk much.

Listen Shehla Rashid, I am not a storyteller. Neither are you some dear to me with whom I wanted to share what I never did till today.

I just want you to know one thing. Whenever my mother listens to the Azadi slogans or Kashmiriyat or La ilah illillaah on TV in Kashmir or Delhi, she sees her child bleeding to death. She cries in other room. Thinking about her child. Who was snatched away from him by the slogans of Azadi, Pakistan and La ilaah illillaah.

Your slogans and defence of Azadi lovers remind my mother of her child who was brutally murdered by you, your fathers and Islamists.

Thus, you are my enemy. Whenever someone tries to harm you or slaps you or beats you or threatens you, I feel he is standing with me for my lost sibling who I never saw. Whenever someone silences the voices of Azadi, hum le ke rahenge azadi, hum kya chahte azadi etc whether Army in Kashmir or people like ABVP or Agniveer in Delhi, we feel as if someone is coming to rescue us and our lost baby.

I find you personally responsible for tears of blood my mother shed all these years. You and millions of Azadi seeker Islamist swines are the reason she has never smiled since 19th January 1989. She is the victim. You are the attackers. Game will begin now.

You Jihadis will be slapped, beaten up and destroyed wherever you are. Those whom army can’t shoot, will be taken care of by us. You cry victim. We will beat you more. For our mother’s blood. For her tears. For her lost child. For her lost smile.

For all those hundreds of mothers whom you raped. For all mothers whom you abducted and snatched away from their children forever. Mothers who are still missing from the valley. Mothers whose breasts were cut off with the slogans of Allahu Akbar. Mothers whose private parts were mutilated with slogans of Islam Zindabad. Mothers whose thighs were tattooed with Islam Zindabad. Mothers whom you disrobed. Mothers whom you forced to parade naked in front of their children.

Whatever has happened to you is just a trailer. You cry that a few stones hit you and gave you scratches. Know that my mother almost bled to death. My mother saw her child bleed to death. Yours is a drama. Hers was real.

We swear to the dignity of all those mothers. All rapist Jihadi Kashmiri Islamists will be silenced by all means. Kashmir is not yours. Forget about it. Forever.

– From a real Kashmiri and son of Mother India

PS : The post has been edited for few typos. This Brother (name changed) contacted Agniveer with following message:

Vashi Bhai, my salutes to Agniveer! Sanjeev Bhai and you are doing greatest service to the nation. I am sharing this letter with you so that you can publish it. I want you to post it for me. I know not many have guts to do it. But you are different. I hope you will do it. Always with you. Thank you in advance. And count me in for service of Bharat Mata.

http://agniveer.com/open-letter-shehla-rashid-kashmiri-hindu/

Tuesday, January 24, 2017

Press Note - KP Exodus Day 19th Jan, 2017

A group of Kashmiri Pandits consisting mostly of young Kashmiri Pandits gathered for a silent sit
Jantar Mantar on Thursday, 19th January, 2017 to commemorate
forceful eviction from the Kashmir Valley 27 years ago.
Led by Jammu Kashmir Vichar Manch
Panun Kashmir, the protestors demanded that their human rights be restored
discrimination over the years and a
“We have been made a forgotten community. Our entire culture is fading. Our existence is under
threat” said Anoop Bhat, spokesperson
.
The protesters mostly school and college going children, recited poems and songs which highlight
their pain in exile. Neel Pandita, an eleven year old boy with tears in his eyes said “I want to see
home. I want to live in my home. I request PM Narendra Modi to help me go home
Sanjay Ganjoo of JKVM said “Minds were imbibed with fear and insecu
forcefully flee our native land in the wake of a freedom movement. Not only were we living under
the sustained threat of ethnic cleansing by the terrorists, over five lakh Kashmiri Pandits were
forcefully evicted, defamed, killed and women raped brutally simply because they were Hindus and
seen as symbols of Indian”

“This day marks the 28th anniversary of the forced exile. It was on the fateful day of January 19,
1990, when hundreds of thousands of violent protestors, along with
streets of Kashmir, which led to tour exodus,” said Aman Indra Koul, a 24 year old Kashmiri Pandit,
who was born in exile.

Sumeer Chrungoo, from Kashmir Samiti Delhi said “That dreaded night was possibly the longest night of our lives. Mobs from all over the valley had occupied every single road in Kashmir. They shouted slogans against Pandits asking us to join them or perish or leave the valley,”

Demanding a concrete effort by the government to rehabilitate these people and restore their dignity, Amit Raina, a protestor, said: “No single conviction has taken place against the people who have widely admitted that they were a part of the killings”. He added: “Besides, these cases should be made to come out of the Kashmir region and brought to the forefront so that our community, which is on the verge of extinction, gets national attention and receives adequate justice.”

The event ended with a silent protest and lighting of lamps in memory of all those who gave their lives to preserve the unity and integrity of India in Kashmir.

Wednesday, January 18, 2017

The Butcher of Kashmir - Yasin Malik.


Yasin Malik BBC Hard Talk Interview

Yasin Malik BBC Hard Talk Interview
Yasin Malik admitting to the killing of Indian Air Force Officers and others in an interview with Tim Sebastian of BBC on Hard Talk. The sympathizers of Yasin Malik had ensured that the video goes missing from You Tube and BBC archives. But they forgot that crime does not hide for long

उनीस-जनवरी-उनीस-सों-नब्ब

....TO MY BELOVED MOTHERLAND....
...............KASHMIR...............
.....उनीस-जनवरी-उनीस-सों-नब्बे....
..........19 January, 1990...........

एक रोता हुवा पंडित, एक कश्मीर याद रखना..
मेरी कहानी का ये दिनं याद रखना..
उनीस-जनवरी-उनीस-सों-नब्बे......
उनीस-जनवरी-उनीस-सों-नब्बे......

ना सताया किसी को, ना ड़राया किसी को..
ना घरो मे किसी के मैने पत्थर ही फैंके..
तो क्यू मेरे घर को जलाया किसी ने?
नहीं गोलीयो से बचाया किसी ने..
मेरे भुजुर्गो को लहू मे डुबाकर..
अज्जानो मे फिर सर झुकाया किसी ने..
एक सहमा सा बच्चा, और एक डर याद रखना..
जन्नत की तबाही का ये दिनं याद रखना...
उनीस-जनवरी-उनीस-सों-नब्बे......
उनीस-जनवरी-उनीस-सों-नब्बे......

बस यही जूर्म था मैं कश्मीरी पंडित..
यही गुनाह था मेरे माथे तिलक था..
सियासत मे मेरी गिन्नती नही थी..
तो मुझे इंसाफ की ज़रूरत नही थी??
सरकारे तो शायद भूल गयी, पर हमे याद है..
उनीस-जनवरी-उनीस-सों-नब्बे......
उनीस-जनवरी-उनीस-सों-नब्बे......

अब भी आँखो में सपना है घर लौट जाने का..
अब भी वो गल्लियां मुझे वापस बुलाती है..
अधूरा मेरा बचपन वही रुक सा गया है..
अब तक मुझे माँ की आवाज आती है..
तारीखे तो तब से बदल गयी, पर हमे याद है..
हिन्दुस्तान तो हमको भूल गया, पर हमे याद है..
उनीस-जनवरी-उनीस-सों-नब्बे......
उनीस-जनवरी-उनीस-सों-नब्बे......

Advocate Vikas Padora
Twitter : @vikaspadora

Wednesday, November 2, 2016

Kashmiri Hindus burn the effigy of Separatists on the eve of Vijaydashmi

On the eve of VijayDashmi, the whole world was busy burning the effigy of Ravana. Kashmiri Pandits did the same but there was a twist instead of burning the effigy of Ravana, they burned the effigy of Kashmiri Separatists. Hundreds of Kashmiri Pandits assembled at Jantar Mantar in New Delhi and then while addressing the crowd, Abhishek Thatho who is a member of ‘Roots in Kashmir’, (a Kashmiri Pandit organisation) said that today they are burning the effigy of Syed ali shah geelani, Yasin Malik, and Bitta Karate. He said that these are the Ravanas of today and like Ravana they are evil. So on the eve of Vijaydashmi we are burning the effigy of these ‘Ravans.’

After burning the effigy of Kashmiri seperatists, they thanked the Indian Defence Forces who they call ‘Rama’ of this Ramayan. They also paid their Obeisance to those Soldiers who attained martyrdom while fighting the Jihadists in Kashmir.

They also appealed Indian Government to provide security to those ‘Kashmiri Pandits’ who are in Kashmir and are the target of terrorists. They were referring to the Shopian shooting, where a Kashmiri Pandit was shot in the leg. He said it is the sinister plan of these Pakistan sponsored separatists to throw out rest of the Kashmiri Hindus from the valley.

Vijay Raina of Roots in Kashmir said, An attack on a Kashmiri Hindu is an attack on the Identity of India. Aroop Rayu of roots in Kashmir said that the land of Kashmir is the land of Shakti and they pray to Maa Durga to destroy the evil in Kashmir, so that the Kashmiri Pandits who has left Kashmir and now are living the life of Nomads will return back to Kashmi

When They Killed My Mom for being a Kashmiri Hindu 


In 1990 Kashmir witnessed the Genocide of Kashmiri Hindus, the target killing of Kashmiri Hindus started in 1989 with the killing of ‘Tika Lal Taploo’ and continued till the massacre of 24 Kashmiri Hindus in Nadimarg. My ‘Maa’ ‘Teja Dhar’ was among those unfortunate Kashmiri Pandits who were killed in Kashmir because of only fault of their’s, for being ‘Kaffir’.

It was 30th June 1990 ‘Haar ashtami’ day, my mother and father had finished with their food. My father’s name is Roop Krishen Dhar and he was a Labour officer at that time. After having his meal he went for a stroll outside and went to his friends house. My mother along with our elderly neighbour was at home. Around 7:30-8:00 pm some persons came to our home and we’re looking for my father. They shouted for my father. My mom did not open the door instead she urged that she is alone at home and they could meet my father the next day. Instead of this they broke open our gate and came inside searching for my father. They searched him everywhere and made a mess of our place. When they were unable to find my father they went near our elderly neighbour and slapped him hard on his face thrice. My mom began shouting that “Buddha ha morukh”. (Old men has been beaten).

Meanwhile the terrorists began moving to our main door when one among them, who was hardly at a distance from my mom, shot her thrice. The bullets hit my mom’s abdomen And she started bleeding. After this the terrorist’s surrounded our entire mohalla so that they could harm my father also. But my fathers friend had heard this and did not allow my father to move out. Finally at almost 10 pm the terrorists moved from our place and my fathers friend and my father had a chance to come home. My father rushed to a hospital and asked for ambulance and the idiotic doctors told him to report the case first as it was a police case. My father then rushed to Mahrajgunj police station, lodged a FIR, and then with a help of ambulance rushed my mother to the state hospital. In between all this the time was simply running out and it was almost 12 am when my mother was shifted to hospital. She had lost so much of blood till that time. My father got busy with the hospital and police formalities and after some time he saw my mother was left behind unattended and doctors were just asking her the details of how she got shot and all. My father screamed at the doctors that till now they should have operated upon her instead of asking her the nasty questions.

The Doctors who were also sympathetic towards terrorists, gave lame excuses that they did not have blood etc. Then they shifted my mother to the OT wherein my father firmly believes that my mother was not operated. Till 8 in the morning my mom was fighting death. She wanted to see me. My father had sent me Jammu early as these terrorists used to kidnap young girls. I was her only child whom she longed to see. But she could not fight with the destiny and these morons (Doctors). She succumbed to her injuries at 8:00 am. My father with the help of army personnel’s performed her last rites there only. I could not see my mothers dead body. After the last rites my father was sent to some hotel, and once my mothers Asti visarjan was done my father left for Jammu where me and rest of the family members were mourning my mothers death.

I was just in 6th standard when they snatched my mother away from me. It is still hard for my family and me to believe that mom is not there. My Maasi (Aunty) is still in a state of shock. Many a times she asks my father that if really my mother has been killed.

http://theimmortalhimalayas.com/when-they-killed-my-mom-for-being-a-kashmiri-hindu/