The simmers of the communal riots had just died away in Kashmir in 1986, when the then Union Minister of Human Resources SB Chavan came visiting the valley in connection with a wildlife conservation project. It was a project involving the Kashmiri Hangul (a species of deer), which had been declared as endangered species. As Chavan met people, a man appeared from behind and shot a question at him: "So Mr. Minister, you are very interested in saving the animal?" Chavan looked at the man and replied in affirmative. "But what about the other endangered species of this land?" the man said. "Which endangered species?" asked Chavan. "Kashmiri Pandits", replied the man, before disappearing in the crowd.
It has been almost eighteen years ever since Kashmiri Pandits were forced out of valley as terrorists called the shots. All these years, there have been many promises of bringing them back but, so far, it has not materialised at all. This is simply because the Pandits are not a formidable vote bank. As Pandits have been left alone to struggle against all odds, Kashmir has turned into a cottage industry. Human rights activists and self-styled intellectuals spend some time in the houseboats of Kashmir and then pen down book after book, sitting in the air-conditioned environs of Delhi's India International Centre. Amidst all the debris of case studies from the valley, the Kashmiri Pandits do not even figure as statistics.
But today, even the literacy rate among the community, which boasted of hundred percent literacy, is dwindling. Medical surveys state that the Kashmiri Hindus in exile have aged physically and mentally by ten to fifteen years. The Pandit intellectuals and leaders even apprehend that if such a trend continues at this pace only, one day the community may cease to exist. "The apathy towards Kashmiri Pandits is like a blister on the face of Indian secularism," says Dr. Agnishekhar, a community leader.
History bears a witness to the fact that Kashmiri Pandits have been known for their scholarly works in the field of philosophy, poetry, literature, grammar, erotics, drama, music and theatre and so on. It is also because of Pandits that Buddhism was propagated in Central Asia, China and Tibet . It was Ratnavaja, a Pandit from Kashmir , who was appointed as a supervisor for the rebuilding of Bsam-Yas monastery in Central Tibet, which was burnt in 986 A.D. A Kashmiri scholar Lakshmi taught Anutra tantra in Tibet during 1007 A.D.
But today, even the literacy rate among the community, which boasted of hundred percent literacy, is dwindling. Medical surveys state that the Kashmiri Hindus in exile have aged physically and mentally by ten to fifteen years. The Pandit intellectuals and leaders even apprehend that if such a trend continues at this pace only, one day the community may cease to exist. "The apathy towards Kashmiri Pandits is like a blister on the face of Indian secularism," says Dr. Agnishekhar, a community leader.
And back in Jammu , Poshkar Nath Raina sits in a mini bus, looking absently in thin air. He is missing his cow. He misses the apple tree in his backyard. He has not tasted the bodyuhaak and vostahaak (rare Kashmiri vegetables) for ages now. He looks at the fruit vendors selling apples. "Thirty rupees a kilo – Kashmiri apples," the vendor makes a sales pitch. "These and Kashmiri apples," Raina passes a sarcastic laugh, " you put a Kashmiri apple inside your mouth and it is filled with juice. The apples sold here are not even fit for animal consumption. Thirty rupees a kilo? Huh!" He looks at others. Nobody seems to be interested. He closes his eyes. And sitting amidst a heap of his canvasses, artist Triloke Koul whispers, "I feel I was not born at all."