Showing posts with label TERRORISM. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TERRORISM. Show all posts

Monday, April 30, 2018

19/01/90: When Kashmiri Pandits fled Islamic terror - Kanchan Gupta

Srinagar, January 4, 1990. Aftab, a local Urdu newspaper, publishes a press release issued by Hizb-ul Mujahideen, set up by the Jamaat-e-Islami in 1989 to wage jihad for Jammu and Kashmir's secession from India and accession to Pakistan, asking all Hindus to pack up and leave. Another local paper, Al Safa, repeats this expulsion order.

In the following days, there is near chaos in the Kashmir valley with Chief Minister Farooq Abdullah and his National Conference government abdicating all responsibilities of the State. Masked men run amok, waving Kalashnikovs, shooting to kill and shouting anti-India slogans.

Reports of killing of Hindus, invariably Kashmiri Pandits, begin to trickle in; there are explosions; inflammatory speeches are made from the pulpits of mosques, using public address systems meant for calling the faithful to prayers. A terrifying fear psychosis begins to take grip of Kashmiri Pandits.

Walls are plastered with posters and handbills, summarily ordering all Kashmiris to strictly follow the Islamic dress code, prohibiting the sale and consumption of alcoholic drinks and imposing a ban on video parlours and cinemas. The masked men with Kalashnikovs force people to re-set their watches and clocks to Pakistan Standard Time.

Shops, business establishments and homes of Kashmiri Pandits, the original inhabitants of the Kashmir valley with a recorded cultural and civilisational history dating back 5,000 years, are marked out. Notices are pasted on doors of Pandit houses, peremptorily asking the occupants to leave Kashmir within 24 hours or face death and worse. Some are more lucid: "Be one with us, run, or die!"

* * *

Srinagar, January 19, 1990. Jagmohan arrives to take charge as governor of Jammu and Kashmir. Farooq Abdullah, whose pathetic, whimpering, snivelling government has all but ceased to exist and has gone into hiding, resigns and goes into a sulk. Curfew is imposed as a first measure to restore some semblance of law and order. But it fails to have a deterrent effect.

Throughout the day, Jammu and Kashmir Liberation Front and Hizbul Mujahideen terrorists use public address systems at mosques to exhort people to defy curfew and take to the streets. Masked men, firing from their Kalashnikovs, march up and down, terrorising cowering Pandits who, by then, have locked themselves in their homes.

As evening falls, the exhortations become louder and shriller. Three taped slogans are repeatedly played the whole night from mosques: 'Kashmir mei agar rehna hai, Allah-O-Akbar kehna hai' (If you want to stay in Kashmir, you have to say Allah-O-Akbar); 'Yahan kya chalega, Nizam-e-Mustafa' (What do we want here? Rule of Shariah); 'Asi gachchi Pakistan, Batao roas te Batanev san' (We want Pakistan along with Hindu women but without their men).

In the preceding months, 300 Hindu men and women, nearly all of them Kashmiri Pandits, had been slaughtered ever since the brutal murder of Pandit Tika Lal Taploo, noted lawyer and BJP national executive member, by the JKLF in Srinagar on September 14, 1989. Soon after that, Justice N K Ganju of the Srinagar high court was shot dead. Pandit Sarwanand Premi, 80-year-old poet, and his son were kidnapped, tortured, their eyes gouged out, and hanged to death. A Kashmiri Pandit nurse working at the Soura Medical College Hospital in Srinagar was gang-raped and then beaten to death. Another woman was abducted, raped and sliced into bits and pieces at a sawmill.

In villages and towns across the Kashmir valley, terrorist hit lists have been floating about. All the names are of Kashmiri Pandits. With no government worth its name, the administration having collapsed and disappeared, the police nowhere to be seen, despondency sets in. As the night of January 19, 1990, wears itself out, despondency gives way to desperation.

And tens of thousands of Kashmiri Pandits across the valley take a painful decision: to flee their homeland to save their lives from rabid jihadis. Thus takes place a 20th century Exodus.

* * *

Srinagar, January 19, 2005. There are no Kashmiri Pandits in Srinagar, or, for that matter, anywhere else in the Kashmir valley; they don't live here anymore. You can find them in squalid refugee camps in Jammu and Delhi. As many as 300,000 Kashmiri Pandits have fled their home and hearth and been reduced to living the lives of refugees in their own country.

Two-thirds of them are camping in Jammu. The rest are in Delhi and in other Indian cities. Many of them, once prosperous and proud of their rich heritage, now live in grovelling poverty, dependent on government dole and charity. In these 15 years, an entire generation of exiled Kashmiri Pandits has grown up, without seeing the land from where their parents fled to escape the brutalities of Islamic terrorism, a land they dare not return to, although that land still remains a part of their country.

A large number of them are suffering from a variety of stress and depression related diseases. A group of doctors who surveyed the mental and physical health of the Kashmiri Pandits living in refugee camps, found high incidence of 'economic distress, stress induced diabetes, partial lunacy, hypertension and mental retardation.' Statistics reflect high death rate and low birth rate among the Kashmiri Pandit refugees.

And thereby hangs a tragic tale that has been all but wiped out from public memory.

An entire people have been uprooted from the land of their ancestors and left to fend for themselves as a weak-kneed Indian state shamelessly panders to Islamic terrorists and separatists who claim they are the final arbiters of Jammu and Kashmir's destiny. A part of India's cultural heritage has been destroyed; a chapter of India's civilisational history has been erased.

Had this tragedy occurred elsewhere in Hindu majority India, and had the victims been Muslims, we would have described it as 'ethnic cleansing' and 'genocide.' We would have made films with horror-inducing titles. We would have filed cases in the Supreme Court of India. Our media would have marshalled remarkable rage in reporting the smallest detail.

But, this tragedy has occurred in Muslim majority Kashmir valley, and the victims are all Hindus, that too Pandits. What has been lost is part of India's Hindu culture, what has been erased is integral to India's Hindu civilisation.

Therefore, the government makes bold to record that the Kashmiri Pandits have "migrated on their own" and their 'displacement (is) self-imposed;' the National Human Rights Commission, after a perfunctory inquiry, refuses to concede that what has happened is 'genocide' or 'ethnic cleansing,' though facts add up to no less than that, never mind that 300,000 lives have been destroyed.

And, our jhola-wallah brigade of secular activists rudely turn up their noses to the plight of Kashmiri Pandits: Hindu sorrow, inflicted by Islamic terror, stinks.

Today, on January 19, the 15th anniversary of the forced flight of Kashmiri Pandits, look back at India's wretched history of secular politics and consider the terrible price the nation has paid at the altar of appeasement because the Indian State has, and continues to, toe the line of least resistance.

Reflect. Resolve. React.

https://m.rediff.com/news/2005/jan/19kanch.htm

Sunday, April 8, 2018

This is the view of seasoned journalist and veteran Kashmir-watcher---- Ghulam Mohammad Sofi, The Editor Srinagar Times


Q: As per a survey by Kashmir Images, a weekly published in Kashmir, 68 per cent Muslims believe that Pandits betrayed them in their hour of distress. Do you agree?

Sofi: No, I am not in agreement at all. The Kashmiri Pandits were not in a position to help in any way. They were compelled to leave their homes, their jobs, and their land overnight. So what is this betrayal all about?

Q: The reference obviously is to suffering of common Muslims in the street during cordon-cum-search operations, crackdowns and arbitrary arrests resorted to by the security forces to control the militancy. Have they not been wronged?

Sofi: Majority community should understand that they are the victims of a proxy war. This war was neither been engineered nor supported by Pandits. In fact they were the first victims of the scheme which forced them to leave the state. Therefore this is an unfair "charge" against Pandits.

Q: The political chief of Jamaat-i-Islami says that not a single cadre of his "Jamat" was responsible for Pandit killings. What is your view?

Sofi: (Smiles): Technically he may be right. Even today they claim that there is no connection between the present killings and Jamat-i-Islami. But the ground realities should also support their views.

Q: Most people in the Valley blame Mr. Jagmohan, the erstwhile Governor of the state, for encouraging the Pandit flight. Do you agree?

Sofi: It is a total lie. It is a part of systematic propaganda. The Pandit flight from the Valley was the sequel to a plan hatched well in advance from the state. It had nothing to do with Jagmohan.

Q: Why could Mr. Jagmohan not organise Pandit camps in some among the 30-odd military stations in the Valley itself?

Sofi: The situation was too bad for Jagmohan when he assumed office. Mr Rajiv Gandhi (not prime minister then) came for an overnight visit. Both I and Jagmohan were present in Centaur Hotel in the lake. Rajiv Gandhi said, "Kashmir is slipping away from us". Such was the situation for Jagmohan. Even Mr. M.L. Fotedar and the then Dy. Prime Minister, Mr Devi Lal, were accompanying Rajiv Gandhi when he said so.

Q: What was the problem in housing the Pandits in makeshift barracks, schools, dharmshalas, institutional army buildings close to military stations? The whole race of Pandits would have been saved the tragedy of deserting their homeland?

Sofi: One has to appreciate the January 1990 situation in the Valley. Jagmohan stayed in Jammu for one night. He took a flight from Jammu and arrived in Srinagar Raj Bhavan the next day. He called some of his friends. He called me too. Had I known that the situation was as bad as it later turned out to be, frankly, I would not have gone to Raj Bhavan. There were just three people in the room when I arrived in Srinagar Raj Bhavan. He offered a cup of tea to me but there was nobody to bring one. I saw him go towards the kitchen three times; presumably, he made the tea himself. There was no administration worth the name anywhere in the state, I mean in the Valley. The police stations all over the Valley were centres of operation for the militants. Jagmohan could not have done anything. Nearly 32,000 Kashmiri Pandits' houses have been burnt since 1991. Is there Jagmohan's hand in this too? People like you, even in 1997, need courage to come to the Valley. Otherwise it is still not safe here. Look what happened in Sangrampura in March 1997 when seven Pandits were mercilessly gunned down.

Q: What is your opinion of the Kashmir Images Survey in which 76% Muslims population wanted the Kashmiri Pandits back in the Valley?

Sofi: The fact is that even today your erstwhile neighbours wish that you all should come back. They would even extend warm hospitality to you when you visit them. But even they will be harbouring a sense of fear while dealing with Pandits. We all need to wait for normalcy which is not yet in sight.

- "Interview with Omkar Razdan in "The Trauma of Kashmir-The Untold Reality

Tuesday, July 18, 2017

LETTER TO MR. RAJIV GANDHI BY JAGMOHAN APRIL 21, 1990

Dear Shri Rajiv Gandhi,

You have virtually forced me to write this open letter to you. For, all along, I have Rajiv Gandhi persistently tried to keep myself away from party politics and to use whatever little talent and energy I might have to do some creative and constructive work, as was done recently in regard to the management and improvement of Mata Vaishno Devi shrine complex and to help in bringing about a sort of cultural renaissance without which our fast decaying institutions cannot be nursed back to health. At the moment, the nobler purposes of these institutions, be they in the sphere of executive, legislature or judiciary etc. have been sapped and the soul of justice and truth sucked out of them by the politics of expediency.

You and your friends like Dr. Farooq Abdullah are, however, bent upon painting a false picture before the nation in regard to Kashmir. Your senior party men like Shiv Shankar and N.K.P. Salve have, apparently at your behest, been using the forum of the Parliament for building an atmosphere of prejudice against me. The former raked up a fourteen-year old incident of Turkman Gate and the latter a press interview an interview that I never gave to hurl a barrage of accusations of communalism against my person. Mani Shankar Iyer, too, has been dipping his poisonous darts in the columns of some magazines. I, however, chose to suffer in silence all the slings and arrows of this outrageous armoury of disinformations. Only rarely did I try to correct gross distortions by sending letters to the editors of newspapers and magazines. My intention was to remain content with a book, an academic and historic venture which, I believed, I owed to the nation and to history.

But the other day some friends showed to me press clippings of your comments in the election meetings in Rajasthan.
That, I thought, was the limit. I realised that, unless I checked your intentional distortions, you would spread false impression about me throughout the country during the course of your election campaign.
WARNING SIGNALS: Need I remind you that from the beginning of 1988, I had started sending “Warning Signals” to you about the gathering storm in Kashmir ? But you and the power wielders around you had neither the time, nor the inclination, nor the vision, to see these signals. They were so clear, so pointed, that to ignore them was to commit sins of true historical proportions.
To recapitulate and to serve as illustrations, I would refer to a few of these signals. In August 1988, after analysing the current and undercurrents, I had summed up the position thus: “The drum-beater of parochialism and fundamentalism are working overtime. Subversion is on the increase. The shadows of events from across the border are lengthening. Lethal weapons have come in. More may be on the way”. In April 1989, I had desperately pleaded for immediate action I said: “The situation is fast deteriorating. It has almost reached a point of no return. For the last five days, there have been large-scale violence, arson, firing, hartals, casualties and what not. Things have truly fallen apart. Talking of the Irish crisis, British Prime Minister Disraeli had said: “It is potatoes one day and Pope the next”. Similar is the present position in Kashmir. Yesterday, it was Maqbool Bhat; today it is Satanic Verses; Tomorrow it will be repression day and the day after it will be something else. The Chief Minister stands isolated. He has already fallen-politically as well as administratively; perhaps, only constitutional rites remain to be performed. His clutches are too soiled and rickety to support him. Personal aberrations have also eroded his public standing. The situation calls for effective intervention. Today may be timely, tomorrow may be too late”. Again, in May, I expressed my growing anxiety: ‘What is still more worrying is that every victory of subversionists is swelling their ranks, and the animosity is being diverted against the central authorities”. But you chose not to do anything. Your inaction was mistifying. Equally mistifying was your reaction to my appointment for the second term. How could I suddenly become cammunal, anti-muslim and what not ?
When I resigned in July 1989, there was no rancour. You wanted me to fight, as your party candidate, election for the South Delhi Lok Sabha seat. Since I had general revolusion for the type of politics which out country had, by and large, come to breed, I declined the offer. If you had any serious reservation about my accepting the offer of J and K Governorship for the second term, you could have adopted the straight forward course and apprised me of your views. I would have thought twice before going into a situation which had virtually reached a point of no return. There would have been no need for you to resort to false accusations.
May be you do not consider truth and consistency as virtues. May be you believe that the words inscribed on our national emblem – Satyameva Jayate – are mere words without meaning and significance for motivating the nation to proceed in the right direction and build a true and just India by true and just means. Perhaps power is all that matters to you – power by whichever means and at whatever cost.
REALITY: In regard to the conditions prevailing before and after my arrival on the scene, you and your collaborators have been perverting reality. The truth is that before the imposition of Governor’s rule on January 19, 1990, there was a total mental surrender. Even prior to the day (December 8, 1989) of Dr. Rubaiye Sayeed’s kidnapping, when the eagle of terrorism swooped the state with full fury, 1600 violent incidents, including 351 bomb blasts had taken place in eleven months. Then between January 1 and January 19, 1990, there were as many as 319 violent acts – 21 armed attacks, 114 bomb blasts, 112 arsons, and 72 incidents of mob violence.
You, perhaps, never cared to know that all the components of the power structure had been virtually taken over by the subversives. For example, when Shabir Ahmed Shah was arrested in September 1989, on the Intelligence Bureau’s tip- off, Srinagar Deputy Commissioner flatly refused to sign the warrant of detention. Anantnag Deputy Commissioner adopted the same attitude. The Advocate-General did not appear before the Court to represent the state case. He tried to pass on the responsibility to the Additional Advocate General and the Government council. They, too, did not appear.
Do you not remember what happened on the day of Lok Sabha poll in November 22, 1989 ? In a translating gesture, TV sets were placed near some of the polling booths with placards reading “anyone who will cast his vote will get this”. No one in the administration of Dr. Farooq Abdullah took any step to remove such symbols of defiance if authority.
Let me remind you that Sopore is the hometown of Gulam Rasool Kar, who was at that time a Cabinet Minister in the State Government. It is also the hometown of the Chairman of the Legislative Council, Habibullah, and also of the former National Conference MP and Cabinet Minister, Abdul Shah Vakil. Yet only five votes were cast in Sopore town. In Pattan, an area supposedly under the influence of Iftikar Hussain Ansari, the then Congress (I) Minister, not a single vote was cast. Such was the commitment and standing of your leaders and collaborators in the State.
And you still thought that subversion and terrorism could be fought with such political and administrative intruments.
Around that point of time, when the police set-up was getting rapidly demoralised, when intelligence was fast drying up, when inflitration in services was bringing stories of subversives plan like TOPAC, your protage, Dr. Farooq Abdullah was either going abroad or releasing 70, hardcore and highly motivated torrosists who were trained in the handling of dangerous weapons, who had contacts at the highest level in Pakistan occupied Kashmir, who knew all the devious routes of going to and returning from Pakistan and whose detention had been approved by the three member advisory board presided over by the Chief Justice. Their simultaneous release enabled them to occupy key positions in the network of subversion and terrorism and to complete the chain which took them again to Pakistan to bring arms to indulge in killings and kidnappings and other acts of terrorism. For example, one of the released persons, Mohd. Daud Khan of Ganderbal, became the Deputy Commander-in-Chief of a terrorist outfit, Al-Bakar, and took a leading part in organising a force of 2,500 Kashmiri Youths. Who is to be blamed for all the heinous crimes subsequet}y committed by these released 70 terrorists ? I would leave this question answered by the people to whom you are talking about the “Jagmohan Factor”.
The truth, supported by preponderence of evidence, is that before January 19, 1990, the terrorist had become the real ruler. The ground had been yielded to him to such an extent that dominated the public mind. He could virtually swim like a fish in the sea. Would it matter if the sea was subsequently surrounded ?
LABELLING ANTI-MUSLIM: In your attempt to hide all your sins of omission and commission in Kashmir and as a part of your small politics which can not go beyond dividing people and creating vote banks, you took special pains to demolish all regards and respects which the Kashmiri masses, including the Muslim youth, had developed for me during my first term from April 26,1984, to July 12,1989. Against all facts, unassailable evidence, and your own precious pronouncements, you started me labelling me as anti-Muslim.
May I, in this connection, also invite your attention to three of the important suggestions made in my book, Rebuild- ing Shahjahanabad: The Walled City of Delhi. One pertained to the creation of the green velvet between Jama Masjid and Red Fort; the second to the construction of a road linking Parliament House with the Jama Masjid complex, and the third to the setting up of a second Shahajhanabad in the Mata Sundari road-Minto road complex, reflecting the synthetic culture of the city, its traditional as well as its modern texture. Could such suggestions I ask you, come of an anti-Muslim mind ?

FORUM OF PARLIAMENT: How you and your associates use the fonum of Parliament undermine my standing amongst the Kashmiri Muslims, was evident from what N.KP. Salve, MP ?, did in the Rajya Sabha on May 25, 1990.
Referring to the so called interview to the Bombay Weekly, THE CURRENT – an interview which I never gave – Salve chose wholly unjustified expressions; “There was a patent and palpable attitude if very disconcerting communal bias and, therefore, he (Governor) was happy under the garb of eliminating the terrorist, the saboteurs and the culprits, in eliminating the whole community as it were; now the Governor has himself given profuse and unabashed vent to his malicious malignity, hate and extreme dislike, branding every member of a particular community as a militant”.
I know Salve. I do not think, if left to himself, he would have done what he did. Clearly, he was goaded to say something which was against his training and background. But the elementary precaution which any jurist, at least a jurist of Salve’s imminence, would have taken, was to first check up whether any such interview weekly had been given by me, and if so, whether the remarks attributed to me were actually made. The unseemly haste was itself revealing. The issue was raised on May 25, while the weekly was dated May 26 June 2, 1990. You yourself rushed a let to the President on May 25, on the basis ofthe interview that in reality did not exist. You explained that V.P. Singh had appointed a person with “Rabid Communalist Opinion as Governor. You also got your letter widely published on May 25 itself.
Since your party men did not allow me to have my say in the Rajya Sabha, even when an opportunity came my way to speak on the subject, I was left with no other option but to file a 20 Lakhs damage suit against the Current Weekly in the Delhi High Court. The case may take a long time and I may donate the damages, if and when awarded, to charity, but I intend sparing no effort to expose all those who have played dirty roles in the disinformation-drama.
ARTICLE-370: You created a scene on March 7, 1990, at the time of the visit of the All Party Committee to Srinagar, and made it a point to convey to the people in 1986 I wanted to have Article 370 abrogated. At that critical juncture, when I was fighting the forces of terrorism with my back to the wall beginning to turn the corner after frustrating the sinister designs of the subversives from January 26, 1990 onwards, you thought it appropriate to cause hostility against me by tearing the facts out of context. Whether this act of yours was responsible or irresponsible, I would leave to the nation to decide.
What I had really pointed out in August-September 1986 was: ‘Article 370 is nothing but a breeding ground for the parasites at the heart of the paradise. It skins the poor. It deceives them with its mirage. It lines the pockets of the “power elites”. It fans the ego of the new sultans, in essence, it creates a land without justice, a land full of crudities and contradictions. It props up politics of deception, duplicity and demagogy. It breeds the microbes of subversion. It keeps alive the unwholesome legacy of the two-nation theory. It sufficates the very idea of India and fogs the very vision of a great social and cultural crucible from Kashmir to Kanyakumari. It could be an epicentre of a violent earth-quake, the tremors of which would be felt all over the country with unforeseen consequences.
I had argued, ‘The fundamental aspect which has been lost sight of in the controversy for deletion or retention of Article 370 is its misues. Over the years, it has become an instrument of exploitation in the hands of the ruling political elites and other vested interests in bureaucracy, business, judiciary and bar. Apart from the politicians, the richer classes have found it aonvenient to amass wealth and not allow healthy financial legislation to come to the State. The provisions of the Wealth Tax, the Urban Land Ceiling Act, the Gift Tax etc, and other beneficial laws of the Union have not been allowed to be operated in the State under the cover of Article 370. The common people are prevented from realising that Article 370 is actually keeping them impoverished and denying them justice and also their due share in the economic advancement.’
My stand was that the poor people of Kashmir had been exploited under the protective wall of Article 370 and that the correct position needed to be explained to them. I had made a number of suggestions in this regard and also in regard to the reform and reorganisation of the institutional framework. But all these were ignored. A great opportunity was missed.
Subsequent events have reinforced my views that Article 370 and its by product, the separate Constitution of Jammu and Kashmir must go, not only because it is legally and constitutionally feasible to do so, but also because larger and more basic considerations of our past history and contemporary life require it. The Article merely facilitates the growth and continuation of corrupt oligarchies. It puts false notions in the minds of the youth. It gives rise to regional tensions and conflicts and even the autonomy assumed to be available is not attainable in practice. The distinct personality and cultural identity of Kashmir can be safeguarded without this Article. It is socially regressive and causes situations in which women lose thier right if they marry non-State subjects and persons staying for over 44 years in the State are denied elementary human and democratic rights. And, above all, it does not fit into the reality and requirement of India and its vast and varied span. What India needs today is not petty sovereignties that would sap its spirit and aspirations and turn it into small “banana-republics” in the hands of ‘tin-pot dictators’, but a new social, political and cultural crucible in which values of truth and rectitude, of fairness and justice, and of compassion and catholicity, are melted, purified and moulded into a vigorous and vibrant set- up which provides real freedom, real democracy and real resurgence to all.
I must also point out that when other States in the Union ask for greater autonomy, they do not mean separation of identities. They really want decentralisation and devolution of power, so that administrative and development work is done speedily and the quality of service to the people improves. In Kashmir, the demand for retaining Article 370 with all its ‘pristine purity’, that is, without the alleged dilution that has taken place since 1953, stems from different motivation. It emanates from a clever strategy to remain away from the mainstream, to set up a separate fiefdom, to fly a separate flag, to have a Prime Minister rather than a Chief Minister, and Sadr-i-Riyasat instead of a Governor, and to secure greater power and patronage, not for the good of the masses, not for serving the cause of peace and progress or for attaining unity amidst diversity, but for serving the interests of ‘new elites’, the ‘new Sheikhs’.
All those aspiring to be the custadians of the vote-banks continue to say that Article 370 is a matter of faith. But they do not proceed further. They do not ask themselves: What does this faith mean? What is its rationale ? Would not bringing the State within the full framework of Indian Constitution give brighter lustre and sharper teeth to this faith and make it more just and meaningful ?
In a similar strain, expressions like ‘historical necessity’ and ‘autonomy’ are talked about. What do these mean in practice ? Does historical necessity mean that you include, on paper, Kashmir in the Indian Union by one hand at a huge cost and give it back, in practice, by another hand on the golden platter ? And what does autonomy or so called pre-1953 or pre- 1947 position imply ? Would it not amount to the Kashmiri leadership say in: ‘you will send and I will spend; you will have no say even if I build a corrupt and callous oligarchy and cause a situation in which Damocles’ sword of secession could be kept hanging on your head’ ?
KASHMIRI PANDITS: You and the like of you have made India a country which has lost capacity to be true and just. Anyone trying to be fair is dubbed communal. The case of the Kashmiri Pandits bears eloquent testimony to this fact.
Whatever be the vicissitudes of the Kashmiri Pandits’ history and whatever unkind quirks their fate might have brought to them in the past, these all pale into insigficance in companison to what is happening to them at present. The grim tragedy is compounded by the equally grim irony that one of the most intelligent subtle, versatile, and proud community of the country is being virtually reduced to extinction in free India. It is suffering not under the fanatic zeal of mediaeval Sultans like Sikander or under the tyrannical regime of Afghan Governors, but under the supposedly secular rule of leaders like you, V.P. Singh and others who unabashed search for personal and political power is symbolised by calculated disregard of the Kashmiri migrants’ current miserable plight and the terrible future that stares in their eyes. And to fill their cup of pain and anguish, there are bodies like ‘Committee for Initiative on Kashmir’ which are over-anxious and over active to rub salt into their wounds, and to label anyone who wants to stand by them in their hour of distress as communal.
In a soft, superficial, permissive and, in many ways, cruel India which has the tragic distinction of creating over one lakh refugees from its own flesh and blood and then casting them aside like masterless cattle to fend for themselves on the busy and heartless avenues of soulless cities, chances for Kashmiri Pandits to survive as a distinct community are next to nothing. Split, scattered and deserted practically by all, they stand today all alone, looking hopelessly at a leaking, rudderless, boat at their feat and extremely rough and tumultuous sea to face before they can reach a safe shore across to plant their feet firmly on an assured future.
The deep crisis through which the Kashmiri migrants, or for that matter, the entire Kashmir, is passing is really the crisis of Indian values – the perversion, in practice, of its constitutional, political, social and moral norms. If I visited the camps of the refugees and tried to extend the firm hand of justice to a community in pain, if I instructed that, instead of cash doles, the migrant Government servants should be given leave salary, and if I conceded the demand of a widow of the person brutally killed by a terrorist, for allotment of a house on payment, I became communal, a known anti-Muslim, about whom concoted stories were planted in the press. If, on the other hand, someone falsely accused the Indian Army and the Governor’s administration, if he assailed Jagmohan in particular, of giving inducements through provisions of plots and trucks, without giving particulars either of plots or of trucks, his accusations got published all over the press, his reports were flaunted in national and international forums and were copiously quoted in Parliament by the members of your party and he was labelled as secular and progressive and champion of human rights and what not. Hard Evidence about ‘Jagmohan Factor’. I do not like to refer to anything that looks like indulging in self-praise. But not to let you get away with your calculated campaign of disinformation, about Jagmohan communal factor, I must invite attention to some hard evidence about what the people of the Valley actually thought about me before you and your proteges started the smear campaign on my appointment for the second term.
Your principal prop of current politics of Kashmir, Dr. Farooq Abdullah, was not to be left behind in the drive launched to create an ‘anti-Muslim’ image of mine. In his interview published in the Times of India of August 30, 1990, he said, “A known anti-Muslim was appointed as Governor of a Muslim majority state”. How untrue, how unfair, was the propaganda, should be obvious from the fact that on November 7, 1986, at the time of his swearing-in-ceremony, Dr. Farooq Abdullah, in a public speech for which the records exist, said: “Governor Sahib, we should need you very badly. It is, indeed, amazing that such remarkable work could be done by you in a short time through an imbecile and faction-ridden bureaucracy. If today three ballot boxes are kept – one for the National Conference, one for the Congress and one for you, your ballot box would be full while the other two ballot boxes would be empty”.
The misfortune of our country is that we have leaders like Dr. Farooq Abdullah who have no regard for facts or truth and whose superficiality is matched only by their unprincipled politics.
Incidentally, did it not strike you that Dr. Farooq was virtually accusing your late mother of being anti-Muslim because she was the Prime Minister when, in April 1984, a ‘known anti-Muslims’ was appointed for the first term, as ‘Governor of a Muslim majority State” ?
Apparently in consultation with you, Dr. Farooq Abdullah, on February 15, 1990, issued a written statement to the press in Urdu in which he inter alia, said, “The Governor, in the personification of ‘Hallaqu’ and ‘Changez Khan’, is bent upon converting the valley into a vast graveyard. On account of continuous curfew since January 20, it is difficult to say how many hundreds of people have become victim of the bullets of the army and paramilitary forces, and in this general slaughter how many hundreds of houses have been destroyed. At this moment, when Kashmiris are witnessing their beloved country being converted into a vast graveyard. I appeal to the national and international upholders of humanity to intervene in Kashmir and have an internatianal inquiry made into the general slaughter of Kashmiris at the hands of army and paramilitary forces”.
Here is your ‘patriot’ calling Kashmir “Aziz Wattan”, suggesting a separate country. Here is your ‘national leader’ asking for an international inquiry into the general slaughter of the Kashmiris by the Indian Army and paramilitary forces. Here is your ‘responsible friend’ speaking about the continuous curfew for 25 days in the valley and his consequent inability to find out many ‘hundreds of innocent and unarmed Kashmiris’ had been massacred and how many hundreds of Kashmiri houses razed to the ground, although he knew perfectly well that there had been a number of days when there was no day- curfew, partially or wholly, and the authorities had brought out the list of casualties, about 40 upto February 16, and were daily asking the public to provide with the additional names, if they had any, so that correction in the official list could be made. Here is an erstwhile Chief Minister who did not care to explain how ‘innocent and unarmed’ people were ruthlessly shooting down IAF officers, BSF jawans, senior officers of the Television and Telecommunications Department and young men in the streets; and how, while inciting people through lengthy and fiery statements, he did not find a single word to condemn such brutal murders.
Is the nation not entitled to know why you have not disowned such unfortunate behaviour on the part of Dr. Farooq Abdullah? And how do you account for his recent statement as published in The Times of India of February 7, 1991: ‘I directed my partymen to lie low, go across the border, get training in arms handling; do anything but not get caught by Jagmohan’ ?
Stabbing me in the back at personal level, perhaps, did not matter. But by keeping the pot boiling, you your proteges prolonged the agony of Kashmir and caused many more deaths and much more destruction. The politics of unscrupulousness was brought to its lowest depth.
ROOTS: You once said, ‘I do not read history; I make history’. Apparently, you do not know that those who happen to make history without reading it, usually make bad history. They cannot understand the undercurrents and the fundamental forces that really shape the course of events and determine the ultimate destiny of a nation.
In the absence of historical perspective, you and the like of you never perceived the roots and tendrils which gave rise to the current crop of separatism and subversion in Kashmir. Poisonous seeds were persistently planted in the Kashmir psyche. And these were liberally fertilised. Those of you whose obligation it was to stop these plantations and their fertilisation, were not aware of even the elementary lesson of history; to compromise with the evil was only to rear greater evil; to ignore the inconvenient reality was only to compound it; to bow before the bully was only to invite the butcher the next day.
I could cite scores of cases to support my contention. Here I would restrict myself to only two examples.
Softness and Surrender. On October 2, 1988, Mahatma Gandhi’s birthday his statue was to be installed in the new High Court complex at Srinagar. The function had been announced. The Chief Justice of India, R.S. Pathak, was to do the formal installation. But a few Muslim lawyers objected. They threatened to cause disturbance at the time of the function. The Chief Minister gave in, almost willingly, to the bullying tactics. The function was cancelled.
What are the implications of what happened ? A secular Kashmir, part of a secular India, could not have, even in its highest seat of justice, a statue of the Father of the Nation, of a sage, who laid down his life for communal harmony. Who was the person spearheading the move against the installation ? It was none other than Mohd. Shafi Bhat, an advocate of the J and K High Court and an active number of the National Conference, who was later on given party ticket for Srinagar Lok Sabha seat in the elections held in November 1989 and with whom you kept warm company during your visit to Srinagar on March 7, 1990, to create as many difficulties as possible for Governor’s administration.
At that time there was National Conference (F) Congress (I) Ministry in office. Such was its lack of adherence to principles, such was the character of Congressmen who formed part of the Ministry and such was its disposition to cling to power that not even a little finger was raised when the function was cancelled.
The bully’s appetite could not have been whetted better. Intimidation could not have secured better results. The troublemakers could not have perceived a more casual and non- committed adversary. Was it not natural for them to nurture higher ambitions and think that more spectacular results could be achieved by deploying a more aggressive and threatening strategy ? Only a naive would believe that in the context of the Kashmir situation, softness and surrender on basic principles would not act as an invitation to terrorism and militancy.
The Union Government enacted the Religious Institutions (Prevention of Misuse) Act, 1988. It was made applicable to all the States of the Union except J and K. Because of Article 370, concurrence of the State Government was needed for extension of this law to the State. But the same was not given. Why ? Because J and K is different what an argument for having a law which aimed at eradication of misuse of religious premises for political purposes.
Nowhere was this law needed more than in the State of J and K. Nowhere were religious places misused more than here. Nowhere were seeds of fanaticism and fundamentalism sown every Friday more assiduoulsy than from the pulpits of the mosques here. Nowhere was it preached more regularly than here that Indian democracy was un-Islamic, Indian secularism was un-Islamic and Indian socialism was un-Islamic. And yet, neither the State Government which was ruled by two supposedly secular parties, nor the Union Government took the matter seriously. What intrigued the most was that the law which was considered good for 100 million Muslims in other parts of India, was not considered good for 40 lakh Muslims of Kashmir.
What was the use of the nationalist forces ruling the country when they would not act in national interest at all, when they remained mental slaves of the politics of communalism; when they were inclined to place reliance on words and not on deeds; when they did not lead, but succumbed; when they encouraged, and not defeated, separatist elements; when, instead of building a new society strong in human and spiritual values, they did everything, wittingly or unwittingly, to repair, renovate and strengthen the old decaying and smelly sitadel of obscurantism; and when they invariably gave precedence to expediency over the basic goals and principles of our Constitution ? What could be the result of all this ? Did it require any unusual insight to understand where such fipurious forces would take us ?
I leave it to the well-wishers of the nation to consider, without any political or personal bias, a basic question. How was it that Dr. Farooq was calling me Hallaqu and Changez Khan, and you were travelling all the way to Srinagar to ‘expose’ me as anti-Article 370, anti-Kashmiri and anti-Muslim and, at the same time, Miss Benazir Bhutto was vowing to tear me to pieces – ‘Jagmohan ko Bhag-Bhag Mohan Kar Denge’ ?
There are many other facets of Kashmir’s truth which lie buried underneath the heaps of disinformation and also of superficiality and shallowness. These days I am busy in an attempt to remove some of these heaps. One day, I hope, the country will acquire the true perspective of the problem. The Kashmiri masses would also realise that I was their greatest well-wisher. I wanted to save them permanently from the exploitative oligarches and also from the machinations of religious ‘Czars’ and forces of obscurantism.
You have already committed the sin of letting down the Bharat Mata in Kashmir. Now do not add to it another sin of letting down the other Mata also. There is, after all, some power above. Conscious of her. She may condone your negligence. But she would not condone your sin of blaming an innocent person for what were your own faults, particularly when he had been persistently reminding you of your obligations.
So far as I am concerned, I am content with my gloomy pride of having done the correct thing in Kashmir. True, I seemingly and, perhaps, temporarily, lost the goodwill of some of the locals. But I was not seeking a certificate from anyone. I had gone for the second term to do a national duty.
The country’s polity and administration have assumed such a character that it has become incapable of solving from its roots, any serious problem. Elections have virtually lost all meaning. And these would continue to be meaningless until and unless Indian democracy and its constitutional structure acquires a healthy cultural base, a pure soul and soil, from which the seed of justice, truth and selfless service could sprout and blossom into a Great Tree providing shade and shelter from Kanyakumari to Kashmir. Currently, the inner light is gone, and we are being led virtually by blind men with lanterns in their hands. We stumble from one crisis to another. As a poet says: It has happened and it goes on happening  and it will happen again.

With best wishes, 

Yours sincerely, 
Jagmohan

Tuesday, June 13, 2017

Hurriyat Truth Tapes

#ITFBlive Following the India Today Expose, the case against #BittaKarate has been reopened and he has been taken to an undisclosed location for questioning by NIA #HurriyatTruthTapes

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10155897714387119&id=23230437118

Thursday, March 9, 2017

It pays to be a separatist in Kashmir

The recent exposé of Syed Ali Shah Geelani's grandson getting a plum posting has once again exposed the working of an unimaginative,  thoughtless government in handling the Kashmir issue.

Over the years, it has become abduntaly clear that none of governments irrespective of the party they belong to have any vision, strategy or plan to resolve the Kashmir imbroglio. They have no expert for this conundrum.

There was a hope that with Modi government in centre and BJP in power in Jammu & Kashmir, there will be atleast  a clear thought process on the way forward.

But unfortunately, the BJP has continued with the policy that has plagued the Indian system for too long. The lack of vision and misconceived notions of Sangh Parivar (who is quite active in Kashmir issue) have taken situation from bad to worse.

The first thing that was expected out of Indian state after the new government took over was to stop extending favours to separatists in hope of winning them over. Second was to weed out the pro-seperatists government officials, act against them and atleast ensure that they are given postings that are insignificant, with very limited influence. Third, but very important was to keep heat on the seperatists by ensuring that legal cases against them are taken to their logical conclussion. And last but most important was to have people who are loyal to the state and government in key administrative positions.

All these basic principles has been grossly violated in J&K and today the whole nation is paying the price of this folly.

From offering MBBS seat to Syed Salauddin's son in early 90's to helping Asiya Andrabi's son get admission in Malaysia, to offering VIP treatments to anti-India rabble rousers, to the recent incident of giving a government job to Geelani's grandson, all show the government assumes their acts of foolishness as magnanimity.

It does not require even commonsense to see that the key postings in the Kashmir valley across government departments from judiciary to police department to horticulture to key educational institutions are with people who are seperatist sympathisers. Last year a senior police officer heading a very crucial post in South Kashmir was believed to have acted as a broker in a dispute that erupted between Abu Dujan of L.e.T and now dead Burhan Wani, who was then the head of Hizbul Mujahedeen in Kashmir. If sources are to be believed, even the death of Burhan Wani was not a chance encounter, but an attempt by a senior police officer to please his political bosses to consider him for the top role in his department. A DSP, who is now on deputation to another department was hired by Mufti government inspite of being a former deserter. He was supposedly hired on a recommendation of a well known separatist leader. By turning a blind eye to the background of these employees while recruiting and posting them on important postings after giving them a job – the field is left open for the anti-India elements in J&K to create an entire ecosystem that takes salary from government but works for seperatists.

Indian state over the years have always acted in a way that has always put the well wishers of Indian state or for that matter, people who supported Indian state for whatever reasons including personal or materialistic gains at risk. Ikhwanis, who almost wiped out the militancy in Kashmir (their approach and creation can be debated) were exposed and given almost as gift to be killed by ISI backed terrorists. Kashmiri Pandits, who have always been Indians from the core of their heart, enjoying tremendous respect (even by their adversaries) for their sincerity towards work have been denied job opportunities in Kashmir or sidelined when it comes to key positions in the state machinery. Even non Kashmiri speaking muslims, who form a sizeable population of the state and are largely seen as pro-India have been ignored and discriminated. All policies in Jammu & Kashmir are planned in such way that they are favourable to valley residents, especially to seperatist sympathizing population.

Multiple cases against terrorists and seperatist leaders are lingering in courts for decades. From henious crimes like murders, assassinations, rapes, to cases like sedition, hawala, assault on law officers have seen no closure. People like Yasin Malik, Bitta Karate, Syed Ali Shah Geelani and many others have virtually no fear of the law. In 2006, the TADA designated judge Mr.Wani while giving his judgement on releasing Bitta Karate said the following "The court is aware of the fact that the allegations levelled against the accused are of serious nature and carry a punishment of death sentence or life imprisonment but the fact is that the prosecution has shown total disinterest in arguing the case, which is in complete violation of Article 21 of the Constitution." Even after 27 years, there has been no progress in the case against Yasin Malik on the charges of killing 5 Airforce officers. Law in Kashmir today is not a deterrent but a great motivator, as it gives instant fame without any fear of punishment.

It is time that Indian state comes out of the delusian they can purchase peace. Because peace is not in the intrest of the people they  buy up from. For them conflict means money. The message in Kashmir is clear; if you want incentives
join the chorus "Hum kya chahte azadi"

https://rainaamit.wordpress.com/2017/03/08/%e2%80%8bit-pays-to-be-a-separatist-in-kashmir/

Wednesday, January 18, 2017

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

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/

Monday, January 27, 2014

A Tourist in my Own House


I looked at my suitcase again, wondering if I had missed something. I had the best of clothes and cardigans packed. My new jacket was placed next to the suitcase. “kyoho soori kurtha pack, Ini kehn travak (did you pack everything. Don’t leave anything important behind” was the voice of my Uncle. “What time is your friend coming, are you sure that he will pick you up” he was asking again. I just replied “yes” and picked up my Kangri, placed it under my pheran and went to my grandmother asking for breakfast. With the flight at 3 pm, I still had ample time. “Shraan kurtha. Muth hu gazzi ne kehan (did you have your bath. Don’t go like a dirty mad man)” asked my grandmother. I said first breakfast then everything else. She smiled, and served me some hot rice bread and kehwa, the traditional non milky Kashmiri tea.

I lived in a joint family along with my uncle and cousins in a fairly large independent house, which had been constructed recently. My uncle had one son and two daughters and I had a younger sister. The Kashmiri joint family roots were very strong and it was practically impossible for an outsider to figure out who is a cousin and who is not. I used to call my Uncle “Papa” and my father Kakaji, his pet name. Infact it was quite common for Kashmiris to call their parents with their pet names. One of my cousin’s still calls his mother, aunty, because that’s what all his cousins call her.

It was the month of December, and my exams had just gotten over and new classes were going to start after a few weeks. I was 15 years old and with us stepping into the 10th standard, the senior most class in our school, I was eagerly awaiting to go back to school to be treated with awe and respect by my juniors.

In school, we were a bunch of unique friends, a very unusual combination in Kashmir of those days. It was a combination of a Pandit, Muslim, Sikh and a Punjabi. I was a Kashmiri Pandit, supposed to be studious, serious and intelligent. I was all except for serious and studious. Mohinder was a Sikh, Iqbal a Muslim and Gauravjit a Punjabi. I, Iqbal and Gaurav studied in the same section and Mohinder in a different one, but still we were inseparable. We went to same teacher for tuitions, flirted with same girls, and skipped school together.

We also had a brush with death together. It was the September of 89 and we all friends were walking on Residency Road, when suddenly we heard an explosion and before we could react, we see Mohinder lying on road with blood all across. Luckily timely medical help saved his life. The other time we all were coming back from a swim and wanted to have some coffee. We decided to go to India Coffee House (ICH), a cheap but decent place. The ICH was on the first floor. The moment we put our foot on the first step, a bomb exploded on the first floor and we all had a lucky escape. All these incidents infact brought us more closer and in spite of being an act of Islamic terrorism, did not evoke any hatred towards the majority community, the Muslims of Kashmir.

“Zang phutravey (will break your legs), if you even think of going anywhere in your vacations”, my father had warned me. 10th standard exams were always taken very seriously in Pandit homes. They were the first board exams and more than the exams, I think it was an opportunity for Pandit families to show off. Pandits in Kashmir were an educated community with literacy rate at 100%. Almost all Pandits were into service, middle class and I think the only thing they could show off was the education and the marks. Thus, education was placed above anything else. Infact Pandit, means a learned person and Hindus of Kashmir have been addressed Kashmiri Pandits for many centuries now. 10th or Matric as it was known was seen as the first step towards getting a good job.

So with no chance of any vacation, I was wondering what to do as the tuitions still had some time to start. “Manu, phone chui” I heard my aunty calling. It was Iqbal on the other side. “Bijapur Chalega”, asked Iqbal. Iqbal prefered to talk in urdu than in Kashmiri. “che shui kaid dalmit (you have lost your brains)”, I said. “Sunn to saley” and he started talking. Suddenly it all made sense and but then who was going to make Hitler at home understand. Iqbals’s sister was in Bijapur and the plan was very simple, to leave in the next 2-3 days, spend a few days in Delhi and Bijapur and be back in a fortnight and join the first batch of tuitions.

I had to work on a plan. My father was in no way going to agree. No logic would work on him. He behaves like Salman Khan “ek baar mene commitment de di, to mein khud ki bhi nahi sunta”. The only person who could make it possible was my Uncle. His word in the family was final and even Salman Khan and the Hitler had to listen to him.

My uncle was a reasonable man and rarely used to lose his cool. But if he did, no one on this planet could save you. Although he had thrashed me only once, that thrashing was enough for my life time. It was not thrashing, it was a third degree torture. Influenced by a cinema ad in my 7th grade, I had purchased “chewing tobacco” and he had caught me with that. He took me into a room, removed my trouser and smeared my sensitive parts with red chilly powder. I had never seen him so angry and after that punishment I even today refuse to look at the chewing tobacco. But I knew, if I have to go for the vacation, there is only one person on this planet that can make it possible and that man was my Uncle.

It was a Sunday; he was out in the garden, having a smoke. Gathering all my courage, I went to join him in the garden. I knew he will raise the topic of my tuitions. And he did the same. “When are your tuitions starting? Who are going for math, which have you decided for Science. Go to Durganath for Science, he is good and a friend of my mine. He will take care of you”. I diligently answered all his questions and I said I have a request to make. He looked at me for a moment, and I don’t know why, I still believe that he knew what was in my mind. I cleared my throat and started “the tuitions are not going to start for the next 20 days. And it is going to be hard work with no vacations for the next three years, till I complete my 12th. Iqbal is going to Bijapur for 15 days to meet his sister and he wanted me to accompany him. He will not be alone; his mother and younger brother are also going with him. He wanted me to join him, as he says that this is going to be the last and only vacation, for the next 3 years. Please, can I join him?

Papa, my uncle looked at me for a long time, and then suddenly smiled and said when do you guys want to leave. For a moment, I could not understand what he was asking. He again repeated “kar chuv nerun (when do you guys want to leave” and I said in next 2-3 days. He said ok, inform Iqbal you are coming and I will also call Kaul sahab of Indian Airlines to ensure that you get confirmed tickets as all flights are going full.

I called Iqbal to give him the good news. He informed me that even Mohinder is coming along. He had also spoken to Gaurav, but then Gaurav had to attend the marriage of his cousin and hence could not come. I immediately took out my cycle, and started riding towards Iqbal’s house. It was a good 10 km distance from my house. We sat and planned the whole trip. Next day we met at Indian Airlines Office to book our tickets. The rush was unprecedented with all flights full. We got a waiting list of 685 (yes it was 685 as waiting list number for a flight). Luckily my Uncle had made the call, and Kaul sahab, immediately converted the waiting status to ‘confirmed.’

Finally d-day came; it was 8th of December, 2009. The flight was to depart at 3.00 pm but I was up by 6.30 am. It was a cold winter morning but then my excitement was good enough warmer than any of the best woolens available. My grandmother gave me my breakfast, rice bread and a big mug of kehwa. I rechecked my bag again and again. I had packed best of my clothes, new tooth brush, cologne that was gifted by my cousin in US last year and I had not used it, looking for an opportune moment.

As my house was on the way to airport, Iqbal had promised to pick me up. He arrived around 12.30, and my father, uncle, cousins, sister and grandmother came to see us off. Not in my wildest imagination, did I know that this was the last time I was seeing my house.

We had moved to Srinagar few years back from Lucknow. After my mother’s demise in an accident, my uncle and my grandmother persuaded my father to move to Srinagar so that me and my sister who were small could be taken care of. My father was to be promoted that year but family situation forced him to give up the promotion and take a posting in Srinagar.

As the move was planned to be permanent, we sold our house in Lucknow, liquidated all investments and built a large big house along with Uncle in Srinagar. Who had known that we would be homeless in just 3 years?

At the airport Mohinder joined us and we reached Delhi well in time. My dad’s sister and her husband had come to pick me and Mohinder up, while Iqbal, his mother and brother were staying at Guest House in Chandni Chowk.

Next day we three friends met at Connaught Place, enjoying our just recently confirmed status as grown-ups. We ogled at girls, were mesmerized by the bright trendy clothes in an air-conditioned underground market, known as Palika Babzar, a must visit for all tourist to Delhi in those days

In about two days we left for our final destination Bijapur, travelling by train to Sholapur and then by bus to Bijapur. We had a great time at Bijapur, and even visited the famous the Gol Ghumbuz .

After spending a week at Bijapur, it was time to return back. We returned back to Delhi and were supposed to take a flight 2 days later to Srinagar. But then something unexpected happened. Beginning of the 1989, Kashmir had seen sporadic acts of terrorism. There were bomb blasts, although most of them had not done much damage, some targeted killings, but then no one had even thought the things will turn worse in just few months. Suddenly there had been an increase in bomb blasts and cross fires in Srinagar. Infact just the previous day there were 12 bomb blasts in a single day and many Kashmiri Pandits in last few days had been killed as part of targeted killing. My aunt was very clear that it is not safe to travel back now and my ticket had already been converted to open ticket. Mohinder and Iqbal was also advised the same. Mohinder stayed with us, while Iqbal and his family again went back to the hotel at Chandni chowk.

Days turned into weeks and there was no sign of things improving in the valley. Infact they were turning worse. My dad’s brother-in-law who was a public prosecutor had to represent state against Shabhir Shah, a known terrorist, who had been arrested few days back. To ensure that he does not object to bail hearing, some terrorists had paid a visit to my uncle’s house, put a gun on the head of my 6 year old cousin, his only child and warned my uncle, that his objecting to bail application will result in more dreadful consequences. The very same night my uncle moved his entire family to Delhi and he moved to an unknown location. Next day after completing his duty, he quietly fled in a pre-arranged car to Jammu to join his family.

It still did not occur to us that days of the original inhabitants, the aborigines of Kashmir are almost over in the land of their fore fathers. Bad news just started flowing in. Few more Pandits had been tortured and killed in the most barbaric ways. My uncle called to inform my aunt that terrorists had visited our house and other Pandits houses in the neighborhood, and were insisting that they buy guns including AK-47 and pistols to join the jihad against India. Pandits had resisted and complained to the local Muslim leaders. While the leaders had assured them the Pandits will not have further visits, they did not seem convincing.

Next day my advocate Uncle and his family moved to Delhi as they wanted to move far from the state of Jammu & Kashmir, as there were intelligence reports that his family may be attacked in Jammu. Now my Aunt’s 3 bedrooms had 8 family members living there. No one even at this stage knew that this number would continue growing in the coming weeks.

Bad news was becoming a habit. In few days, another bad news came. My Uncle who had a restaurant on Residency Road had been attacked and burnt to ashes. Infact the restaurant was located in an area where almost all establishments were either owned or run by Kashmiri Pandits or Hindus and it was clear that this act of arson was well planned and the area deliberately chosen.

Things were turning from bad to worse in the valley. Anarchy was replacing governance and terrorist were ruling the roost. Posters had started appearing on houses of Kashmiri Pandits. Posters threatened the Kafirs with dire consequences. Many notable Pandit personalities like Tika Lal Taploo, Justice Neelkant Ganju had been killed. Then came the most heart chilling and fearing poster. The poster read “We want Kashmir without Pandit men but with Pandit Women”. Along with that came news of many Pandit women being kidnapped and raped by JKLF of Yasin Mallik. An Indian family can face and suffer any hardship, including the threat to life. But what it cannot bear is the threat to the dignity of its women folk. While many Muslims did condemn the posters and the act, the condemnations seemed more political in nature than sincere. While Pandits were still wondering what to do with this threat, the situation in valley was going out of control.

The mosques were broadcasting non-stop threats to Kafirs (infidels). Loudspeakers were on full volume, asking Muslims to join the jihad, kill the Kafirs and take their property and women as booty of Jihad. Pandit houses were attacked with stones, petrol bombs and gun fire.

There were protest marches every day and Pandits and Sikhs were forced to join these anti-India marches against their wishes. Pandits were forced to be in the first row of protestors so that in case of firing by the security forces, Pandits are the casualties. Pandits & Sikhs were used as human shields.

News was flowing out in bits and pieces. Communications lines like letters, telegrams were almost inaccessible and telephone lines functioning was erratic.

On 19th morning, my uncle called my aunt and said that things are going out of control; two of our neighbours, one Pandit and another Sikh have been killed by terrorist in an attack at their homes. Our muslim neighbors have advised us to move out of the valley as soon as possible. But getting out was not easy as the government had placed the entire state under curfew and not a single transport was available.

Cars in those days were a luxury and very few families had it. Meanwhile my Maasi (mother’s sister) who lived in down town had decided that moving the girls was a priority and had to be done the same day. The family had a car and driver was instructed to be on stand-by. She then called my uncle at Srinagar and told him that they have arranged a curfew pass and the driver will pick-up the girls at 3.00 pm. My other uncle who was an army contractor had managed another pass and sent his car to pick my other girl cousins from their homes. It was agreed that all girls will assemble at my maasi’s house and two cars will leave the same day with all girls to Jammu, at midnight. All girls’ cousins, except for one with one small incident of stone throwing assembled safely at my maasi’s house. It was 6. 00 pm and it was decided that they will leave at 9.00 pm non-stop to Jammu. One car was to be driven by my cousin and other by the driver.

At 9.00 both cars were loaded with goods, the drivers instructed on the route to be taken and tea and food packed. Total number of passengers were sixteen, 14 girls and 2 male drivers Instructions were clear; the journey to Jammu has to be non-stop. Nonstop driving through narrow, curvaceous road for minimum 8 hours. Then something unexpected happen, one of the cars, an ambassador broke down. It just refused to start. The situation with it brought in more complex decisions, decisions which could scar your relations, your sub conscious and capabilities of making decisions all your life. Someone recommended we move ahead that the elder girls need to leave first, some others said that at least one girl from each family goes. Some said let’s mix the age because it will not be easy to travel next day with little girls.

While in traditional Indian families, women do not generally take decisions, my maasi by virtue of being the eldest daughter-in-law, had more say than other women in the family. She stepped in saying that all will go. And all will go tonight. With the situation in the valley being unpredictable, anything could happen. And a house with so many women, it surely will be the most targeted house next day. So all elder girls were made to move in the car and sit tightly. In the front seat, three girls sat and in the rear seat, five sat. Then the smaller girls were to sit on laps of these elder girls. Total girls that sat in front seat were 5 and 9 were forced to fit in the rear seat. Even a pack of sardines as a phrase can’t describe the passengers of the car.

My cousin was nominated as the driver. Everyone was emotional, the ladies cried, the India men who think they are above all emotions cried more. And then the car left. It traveled non-stop to Jammu with just one stop of five minutes at Ramban for the girls to freshen up. I still don’t know and still can’t figure out that how fifteen people fitted in one car. But that is fact that can’t be denied.

Meanwhile things at the valley were turning dangerous. The state government had resigned; Jagmohan had to be recalled as the Governor of state. He was a successful administrator with an impeccable record and a successful stint as governor in Jammu Kashmir earlier.

On 20th January around few lakh people gathered from various parts of Kashmir and decided to march towards the central business district of Srinagar. The terrorist and Pakistani insurgents had a clear agenda and using the innocent people as shield they wanted to attack All India Radio, Cental Post Office and Doordarshan. Their plan was to take over these centers and declare independence. This would have been a great symbolic victory.

Jagmohan was a no nonsense administrator. His quick action prevented what otherwise would have been the biggest shame on our nation. Swift action from what was an ineffective government just few days back shocked the terrorist and they retaliated by attacking security forces at many places. And in the cross fire many protestors, some innocent, some guilty died. Around 50 protestors died in the cross fire on that day.

The militants were so sure of the success of their plan that the failure of the same made them act like they were possessed by the devil. Hindu homes were attacked, many burnt, and many Pandits were dragged from their homes and killed.

The fear psychosis gripped Kashmiri Pandits. Lack of communication made things worse. On the night of 20th Jan more than 50% of the valley’s Hindu and Sikh population just left the valley. They traveled on any form of transport that they could lay their hands on, carrying just necessities and some clothes. Even then no one believed they will never be going back home. Every one believed that once things improve and the government is in control of situations they will be back.

My father, my uncle, aunt and grandmother also fled the same night. Just carrying a suitcase my father reached Jammu and then he along with my sister and my paternal cousins, my grandmother traveled to Delhi. Suddenly the 3 bedroom house in Delhi was accommodating eighteen members of the family.

Many Kashmiri Hindus were not as lucky as us. For many this was the first visit they had ever done outside Kashmir valley. With no relatives or friends outside Kashmir, they were left to find a shelter for themselves. Camps were set up by Jagmohan to accommodate these refugees in their own country. NGO and Hindu organizations stepped in to help in the biggest migration post partition.

The deaths were innumerable. Many died of snake bites, heat, lack of sanitation, infections and of diseases, which most of us had never heard of. Some estimates put the death toll to more than 50,000.

Slowly my aunt’s house in Delhi had 30 people living in. Most people still hoped and believed that things will improve in valley and all will soon be back in their homes. But the inflow of refugees was telling different things. More horror stories were coming in. Hindus were now being openly targeted and many well known and unknown names had been brutally killed. Sarla Bhat a nurse in a prestigious hospital was raped and then cut into pieces alive with a saw by the terrorist leader Yasin Mallik. Satish Tickoo was killed in the heart of the city in front of his entire family by his own neighbours.

Meanwhile my father had managed to get a transfer to Chandigarh. By end of April, I along with my sister and grandmother moved to Chandigarh. My father was sure that even if things improve in Kashmir, he is not going back. He did not have any faith on majority community of the state and he was not willing to repeat his mistake twice.

For the first few days we stayed at Yatri Niwas, meanwhile my father searched for a house. Finally a house was located and thankfully it was quite close to one of our old family friends who had settled in Chandigarh long time ago.

With all belongings left in Kashmir, the house acted more as a Shelter of four walls than home. Our family friends provided us with beddings and few utensils. My poor grandmother in an age where she should have been resting was forced to work in the kitchen again. For many months we slept on floors with no beds or furniture in the house. Summer had started; the temperature had started crossing 40 C. My grandmother, who had spent all her life in valley where people had seen fans just in movies, was now hoping that the same fan will help her survive summer. While she never complained, she started keeping unwell. Her whole body had rashes and she seemed de-hydrated. My father, who had little savings to bank on, borrowed some money from his colleagues and purchased a cooler. While a cooler was surely no replacement for the wonderful climate of Kashmir, it did help.

New sessions were starting; my father was now focused on getting mine and my sister’s education back on track. And the fool in me still believed that same is not necessary as we will be soon going back to Kashmir and I will be joining my old school. Two slaps from my father made me see things his way.

Slowly and steadily, my father rebuilt the entire home. We got beds, TV, refrigerator, gas connection. It took us few years to be a fully functional home. The unexpected migration brought miseries to three generations at once. The senior citizens suffered the most physically and mentally. At an age when they should have been resting and enjoying the services of their children, they were coping with the brutalities of nature. They were now experiencing heat, which they believed only, existed in a baker’s oven. Most of them could speak only Kashmiri and with the community now scattered into pieces they had no one to talk to, no one of their age they could share their happiness, pain with. Many died ill, bed ridden, with broken hearts and pain which they never shared but their eyes clearly expressed.

The second generation to suffer was our parents. Most of them had invested their savings in Kashmir and spend half of their life building their homes. And now when it was the time to start enjoying the fruits of their labour, they were forced to restart their lives again, that too from scratch along with responsibilities they had not faced when they started their career. Now they had children, wife and retired parents to take care of.

The third generation of was our generation. We were neither children nor adults. We were a generation who was still dreaming and had started working to make those dreams come true. And suddenly we see that the entire karma bhoomi, the conditions, the battle field has changed over night. Yes, I agree these conditions trained us to handle crisis better in life, made us strong, but then I am sure no tree can grow really strong away from its roots; The Roots in Kashmir.

For years I longed to go back to Kashmir, I wanted to meet Iqbal, see my house, meet my neigbours, visit Mata Kheer Bhawani and do endless things. Finally my grandmother’s body could not handle the summer of Indian plains anymore and in the year 2000, she died a painful death, with rashes and boils all over her body. How much I wanted to take her ashes to Kashmir and immerse them in river Vitasta, but could not. And I don’t think I will be able to forgive myself for that.

I got married in 2003 and my job had taken me to a city in South India. And in Oct 2004, I and my wife decided to visit Kashmir. She along with her parents had migrated in January, 1990 and had not traveled back after that.

My travel agent booked our tickets. On d-day, we landed in Srinagar. My father-in-law’s friend, Bhan sahib, who had recently been transferred back to Srinagar, came to the airport to receive us. He straight away took us to his house where he lived on rent. He was now a tenant in the same house which he had owned pre-migration and was forced to sell it to manage the financial crisis post migration.

The journey from the airport to my father-in-law’s friend’s house was nostalgic. This was the same route I had taken 15 years back to go on a vacation. It took me 15 years to take the same route back. Tears started flowing from eyes. It was an outburst of emotion which I could not handle and neither wanted to handle. My wife and Bhan Sahib understood and did not try to stop me. The let the pent up emotions come out.

Next day, I woke up early in the morning and thanked God that there is no call for strike or protest. I wanted to see the house. Iqbal who was living in Srinagar, had promised to take me there. He arrived at 9.am. After customary wishes with Bhan Sahab and my wife, he drove us to my house in his car.

15 years is a lot of time, things had changed. There was a new Rambagh bridge, many old buildings had vanished. The route seemed right but not the surroundings. A couplet from the movie Umrao Jaan was ringing in my ear “ye kis makaam par hayaat muz ko leke aa gaee, naa bas khushee pe hain jahaa, naa gam pe ikhtaiyaar hai’ (to what resting place has life brought me to, where I have neither command over joy, nor power over my sorrow?)

Finally I reached my house and raised my hand to ring the bell, a thought came to my mind “Who would believe I left my home as a traveler and returned back as a tourist”

 

Monday, January 20, 2014

The Store Room - Sanjay Peshin

 
 
 
Jan, 1990, I was still a child, living in the valley of Kashmir. Shivers spill down my spine when I remember the dreadful night of 19th Jan, 1990.

Mom woke me up in middle of the freezing night, I could hear people on the streets shouting slogans and they suddenly started pelting stones on our house. Our back door was being broken and my father was keeping a watch by peeking out the drawn curtains of the window. Mom with eyes full of fear and tears, whispered slowly in my ear "Woth..Chapayen thav syenith" (Wake up & wear your slippers), we may have to run. Dad double locked both of us in wood & coal store room & I spent all night on Mom's lap. She was continuously weeping and praying. By morning, her tears had made my pheran completely wet.


Its been 24 years now, but I am yet came out from that dark store room. It seems that I am still in that store room, my childhood, my home, my life has been snatched from me. The memories haunt and my struggle against them continues
 
Author - Sanjay Peshin
 

We’re a forgotten community: Kashmiri Pandits(The Hindu)

A group of Kashmiri Pandits gathered for a silent sit-in at Jantar Mantar here on Sunday to campaign against the community’s forceful eviction from the Kashmir Valley 24 years ago.
They demanded that their human rights be restored. Led by a youth group, Roots in Kashmir (RIK), protestors said they had faced discrimination over the years and were given step-motherly treatment. “We have been made a forgotten community. Our entire culture is fading,” they said.
The protesters said Kashmiri Hindus were forced to flee because they were a minority. “Minds were imbibed with fear and insecurity and they were made to forcefully flee their native land in the wake of a freedom movement. Not only were they living under the sustained threat of ethnic cleansing by the terrorists, over five lakh Kashmiri Hindus were forcefully evicted, defamed, killed and their wives raped brutally simply because they were Hindus.”
The youth group has also been associated with commemorating the ‘Kashmiri Pandit Exodus Day’ for the past six years. “This day marks the 24th anniversary of the forced exile on the fateful day of January 19, 1990, when hundreds of thousands of violent protestors, along with armed militants, occupied the streets of Kashmir, which led to the exodus,” said Amal Magazine , coordinator of RIK.
“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 either join them, perish or leave the valley,” he added.
Demanding a concrete effort by the government to rehabilitate these people and restore their dignity, Amit Raina, a member of the group, 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.”
 
 

Saturday, January 18, 2014

That 19th January - Rashneek Kher

Posted on invadecafe.com

When my daughter turned eight last year, I asked her what present she would like for her 8th birthday. She said let us visit the Shrine of Rajyna (popularly known as Kheer Bhavani) when it snows in Kashmir. For a child born in exile and having grown in an atmosphere that she doesn’t quite sync with it would only be natural for her toask her father to take her home. What however surprised me was her urge to visit the shrine of our Isht Devi when it snows in Kashmir. I left the conversation at that and hoped that she would soon forget all about it. As winter approached she reminded me of her birthday present. Her winter holidays were scheduled from 1st to 20th Jan. I asked her to sleep and promised her that we would go home during her vacations.

I knew I had made her a promise that would be difficult to keep. It isn’t that I have not been to Kashmir since we were forced to leave; it was just that these dates brought me terribly bad memories. I somehow wanted to avoid being in Kashmir during exactly the same period, the events of which led to our being uprooted from the land of our forefathers.
                                               

Bagat-i-Kanipora is now a bustling city skirt of Srinagar though it falls under District Budgam. Back then in 89-90 it used to be a small hamlet 13 kms from the stone which read Srinagar 0 kms. We lived on a connecting road which connected our village to another called Kralpora. Kralpora was a bus stop en route the holy shrine of the mystic poet Nund Reshi. The village lay scattered close to the road and presented a poignant picture of pastoral Kashmir. A Small Rivulet ran through the village.There were orchards the prominent being the Pomegranate Orchard near the Green Mosque,big Chinars, and willows of all kinds would co-exist with tall Poplars. Our home was a little outside what would constitute the main village. A small habitation of five-six houses had cobbled up around our home. All around this small habitation were fields that came alive in summer to the songs of men and women sowing and reaping paddy.
One October 89 evening, Mrs. Kaul a neighbor of ours, the only ones who owned a phone in our village, knocked a tour door to inform us that my father’s cousin living in the Fateh Kadal area of down town Srinagar had been shot .She possibly knew that Tathe of Aima’s had not just been shot but shot dead. A month later a MES man was shot at close range in Kralpora and left to die. Meanwhile JKLF cadres went around killing people,mostly Pandits, the convenient alibi was to brand them Mukhbirs or Informers of the State. This winter was very different from any other winter in my or even my father’s living memory. Every day we would hear stories of this or that boy going for training across the border. Yet no one ever thought that the events happening around were just a precursor to something more sinister.

Behind our home an empty piece of land was used as a playground by us. One day as we were going about our usual bat and ball, when our neighbor screamed at us for playing cricket when the “young of the nation” were organizing a Tehreek. From that day onwards our Muslim friends would not turn up to play. We stopped playing too. The winter was setting in.
                                       
 
Television sets were beaming out images of the Romanian revolution and the taking over of Bucharest by rioting crowds. Many in Kashmir were getting ideas and inspiration from this. Since theRomanian uprising lasted not more than a fortnight and had brought victory to the protestors a belief had taken home in the minds of the terrorists that a similar “mass uprising” if organized could bear propitious fruit for them a swell.

On 4th Of Jan, 1990 Aftab published a Press Release of Hizbul Mujahideen asking all Hindus to leave.Another news paper Al-Safa published the same press release. Soon notices to leave were pasted on the doors of Pandits. A notice on our door read“Ralev,Galev ya Chalev”.Join,Die or Leave.Through all this there was “news” ofMujahideen having made hit-lists of all those who were “against” the Tehreek.The list , we were told, is compiled by “Mehman Mujahids” read foreign terrorists in consultation with local civil society. Thankfully no one in your family is recommended to a hit list yet a “concerned” neighbor told my uncle.

                                             

During one of these days my brotherhad gone to get some air into the wheel of his cycle when suddenly two young men carrying guns killed a man in the Kralpora Bazar. Both men lived close to our village and my brother was naïve to tell someone that he knows one of them.A well wisher visited us that evening and told us to send him out of Kashmir.This advice fell on us like a pack of bricks. My grandmother cursed my brother for being stupid and my mother started sobbing. It was too late to do anything.My brother thankfully knew how to ride a scooter. We had some petrol in the fuel tank of the scooter which would have been enough to take him to Lal Chowk.My father put some money into the pocket of his Pheran and told him, if there is a knock on the door just jump from the back window and don’t stop the scooter till you reach Tiku’s who lived near Central Telegraph Office in Lal Chowk. We kept awake all night hoping against hope that no one would come asking for Rinku, and no one did.
Strange diktats started appearing on walls. Some would tell us how to dress, others what not to drink but the most interesting were the ones asking us to time our watches with Pakistan StandardTime. Mohalla Committees were made to check vice. It was like a Taliban Ministry of Promotion of Virtue and Prohibition of Vice. What constituted vice included watching something as harmless as Doordarshan. Everything Indian was the new untouchable. During all this time the writ of the terrorists went unchallenged.The National Conference government had run away and abdicated all its responsibilities. There was no administration at all.
The timing was just right for the“mass uprising” to be engineered. From here on I write the account that my brother had written in his dairy many years after that fateful night.
“We were about to have dinner when the final call for prayers was heard. It was normal for us to hear the call to the faithful. A soulful Allah-u-Akbar rendering went up in the cold mist ofJanuary. As soon as we finished dinner the soulful voice of our pious localMuslim priest was replaced by someone who sounded not just hoarse but uncouth too. He didn’t sound like a Kashmiri .At first his words sounded like cacophony but it took us little time to realize that he was provoking the people of the village to come to the mosque and hit the streets. The nearest mosque was almost seven hundred meters from our home. People were possibly awaiting the call. A song blazed out of the loudspeaker and went something like this.
 
Jago Jago Subah Huyee;Rus ne Baazi Haari Hain,Hind par larzaan tarehain,Ab Kashmir ki baaree hain
 Wake Up,Russia has fallen and India eyes defeat,It is the turn of Kashmir to be freed.
We looked at each other in complete silence. No one even had the guts to move from his/her place. The song was played for a long duration, many times over and as soon as it ended it gave way to sloganeering of a different kind, the kind that did not just target the establishment of India but the one which targeted the Pandits directly.
The slogans that were now filling the air left us in no doubt that we were about to be defiled or killed.
Hum Kya Chahte Azadi…(We want freedom)
Azzadi Ka Matlab Kya,La Illah Il lallah(Freedom means La Illah Il Laalh)
Agar Kashmir Main Rehna Hoga,Allah-u-Akbar Kehna Hoga(If you want to live in Kashmir,you have to sayAllah-u-Akbar)
Ae Zalimo Ae Kafiro,Kashmir HamaraChod Do(Oh Cruel people,you the Kafirs,Leave our Kashmir)
Yahan kya Chalega Nizam-e-Mustafa,

The rule of the Prophet will reign here…was still resounding in our ears when we started hearing; We want Kashmir to become Pakistan without Pandit men but with their women. It is then that we realized that the Kaul’s were in real danger because they had two grown up daughters. It wasn’t as if we were not used to dirty limericks of Muslim men sounding out to our women. The one that was most common was…Batni batni wale gachav dal,ye karev tikarav bistaras tal …O Pandit woman let us go to Dal,whatever we will do  ill be under the quilt.

                                              

At one point my father almost opened the door to go to their house, but all of us prevented him for doing so. Never before and never after in my life did I feel so impotent and helpless as I felt at that moment. Since I had no sisters of my own the Kaul sisters had quietly filled in that space yet neither me nor anyone in our family could do anything for them. We were too scared for our lives to be able to do anything for the ones we truly loved.
Though we could hear the roar of the crowd now, they still seemed at some distance from where our home was. There were chants of Azaadi…Azzadi and they kept growing louder. We moved to the room from where we could see the road. My aunt peeped through the partly drawn curtain and shouted “Trath Haye Paye” Lightening has struck.. Thousands of people shouting slogans against India and Pandits in particular were approaching our home. My father locked all the doors and shut all the windows.We switched off all the lights of the house. All the women were moved to the kitchen, a canister of kerosene placed next to them just in case the crowd barged in, they were to immolate themselves.
It was past midnight but the frenzy refused to die down. One wave of screaming and shouting gave way to another asif a strange kind of adrenaline had been pumped into our village. The crowd was putting up a spectacle right outside our gate. A man climbed on top of another man’s shoulders and started shouting, Pakistanse Rishta Kya,La Illah Il-lah, and the crowd responded with the vigor thatI had never seen before. In sometime the crowd moved on and the voices died down a little.My father told us to recite Indrakshi Mantra. We were reciting the Mantra barely audible to each other, when the noises grew up again. The crowd from some other village seemed to have merged with the mob from our village. If it is the crowd of Machov,(a village 2.5 kms from ours) my father said, then the signs are ominous. There seemed to be no end to this night. At around 3.30 am in the morning my father opened the door of the kitchen to find all the women huddled together, wide awake, scared,still and almost soulless. The last surge before the first prayer of the next morning happened outside the house of Kaul’s. Many in the mob kicked their main gate and hurled abuses at them in such loud voices that even we could hear.”
Tarini prevailed upon me and I booked two tickets for a return trip to Kashmir. We have been here since 2ndof Jan and shall go back to Delhi on 18th Jan. Dressed in our traditional Kashmiri Pandit attire,a pheran with a ladh (a peculiar kind of stitch at the fall distinguishes a Pandit Pheran from a Muslim Pheran) we have walked together, the by lanes of downtown Srinagar and been to villages where lie the Mazars of the great masters of Kashmiri poetry.We drank water from the same spring where Nund Rishi was given his first bath,but not before the maulvi,who could not recite one verse of Nund Rishi telling us to do a Vuzoo(ritual cleaning) because our foreheads were marked by vermillion.We alsoheard a teacher in Srinagar museum showing the diversity of the state pointing out to a mannequin showing a Pandit women, telling his students,look that’s a Batni and she wears no yezzar(pyjamas).
Not to be deterred we went around and looked for signs of our past.The crumbling Habbakadal locality represented the city of Djins,as did the prosperous village of Haal in South Kashmir.The falling houses stand as a testament to who lived there once. Many temples on ceresplendent in their glory were dying for want of attention; the others had simply been erased from the land and the memories of the people. We drove pastmy village to Swoch Kral’s Mazar and then onwards to the sacred shrine of Rajnya Bhagwati in Badipora to find a beautiful Kashmiri art painting of the mother goddess at the site of what used to be beautiful idol. I enquired and was told that it was also broken to pieces by the iconoclasts.
Not everyone who we met in Kashmir was a fanatic, not everyone seemed happy at what happened to Pandits, not everyone said that it was right to destroy religious places of Hindus, not everyone liked the idea of encroaching the property of the Pandits, yet almost everyone who we met said that it was Jagmohan’s plan to drive Pandit’s out and almost none seemed not to have participated in that orgy that drove the Pandits to exile.

It is beginning to snow again……