( P.C. Mukhtar Ahmad, adopted from Under the Blue Sky)
P.K.Bhat had posted a photo on his FaceBook timeline.
In the photo, he stands on a grassy mound, and has written, “Once upon a time
this is where we had our sweet home.” The photo speaks volumes.
Bhat is a pandit; originally belonged to a village in
Anantnag district. The separatist movement and terrorist activities reached its
peak in 1990.The JKLF terrorists singled out the pandits in the valley, attacked
them; looted, and murdered. The pandits fled their villages with their lives
leaving everything behind and became refugees in Jammu. Bhat’s family had to
leave their village in 1990. The terrorists burnt their house in 1992 after
they had looted everything. Once sweet home, it now has turned out a grassy
grave.
Rahul Pandita’s book “Our Moon has Blood Clots”
captures the sufferings of pundits in Kasmir. His maternal grandfather was from
Barmula. The Pakistan sent tribal invaders, who attacked Kasmir in October,
1947. They did the same; loot, rape, murder, burning the house of the pundits
as the JKLF terrorists did in 1990. Rahul’s uncle was only ten and her mother
was younger to her brother. They fled Barmula and later, settled in Srinagar.
In 1990, when most of the pundits left Kasmir, his uncle did not. His cousin
Ravi, a lecturer, was very friendly and popular with his friends. He depended
on his friends to stay back. But his friends could not save him, and in June, 1997;
the terrorists picked him from a bus he was travelling by and killed him. His
uncle lost equanimity, and left Srinagar. His uncle said when Jawaharlal Nehru
addressed a gathering at Lal Chouk in 1948, I was a refugee in my own state, and
sixty years later I am a refugee in my own country.
(With P K Bhat in Srinagar)
The pandits have moved out to different states and
countries; the Diaspora has been successful in different fields in different
states and countries. Wherever they are, they root for their villages, and want
to go back. Bhat says he goes once a year to his village and his sons love their
father’s village. When he goes to his village, they stay with his best friend,
a Muslim. Their friendship remains intact.
****
I was surprised to get a phone call from Irfan Manzoor
immediately after I switched on my mobile phone after the plane landed in
Srinagar airport. I had not shared my phone number. He had google-searched my
name and found the number from my FB account. He was waiting for me at the exit
gate.
Irfan was an officer of Kasmir Administrative Service,
then working as Under Secretary in Education Department. A shy, but a sincere
officer, he had rather a lover’s look with stubble on his cheeks and innocent
eyes. After I checked in the hotel he said, “We have arranged for visit to
Shankarachrya temple tomorrow in the morning for all the delegates. Where
should you like to go now?”
It was afternoon, I had a few hours. I had to prepare
for next day’s meeting in the evening. I told him to suggest and we decided to wander
to Dal Lake.
Last time I had gone to Srinagar in November, 2015 to
attend the GST law committee meeting. Our visit coincided with the visit of the
Prime Minister. The administration had imposed curfew in most parts of Srinagar
to ward off any untoward incident. We had a very restricted movement during our
stay. When I went to Srinagar in May, 2017 to attend the GST Council meeting I
was also apprehensive. The valley was unquiet after the killing of Burhan Wani,
the Hizbul Mujahidden militant in 2016; there were increasing cases of stone
pelting by the public and retaliatory pellet firing by the police. I felt Irfan
took extra care to see I was comfortable and pleased.
****
Last time in 2015 when I returned from Sinagar I had
to wait four hours in Delhi airport to catch the next flight to Bhubaneswar. I
was browsing the book shop in the airport, and found Curfewed Night by Basharat
Peer. I started reading the book to pass time and finished it by the time I
reached Bhubaneswar. Curfewed Night narrates the sufferings of Muslims as Our
Moon has Blood Clots recounts the plight of pandits in the Valley.
Terrorists attack the army and police, the army
retaliates. The terrorists and also a few police or jawans are killed, so also
civilians in the cross fire. The civilians protest, often violently, the
police/army has to fire to disperse the crowd. Civilians get killed and further
people protest against the police/army firing. This is a vicious circle that
goes on for years.
The army put up barricades to stop the bus and check
if there is any terrorist; and the people travelling have to be subject to
harassment. Sometimes there is search, on suspicion of hiding terrorists, of an
entire village. Allegations of molestation and rape also float. Sometimes
terrorists threaten a villager for food and shelter in the night and if it is
known to the police, next day police search and interrogate the innocent
villager. Targets of the terrorists are not always the police or army, often
the common man of the valley is also a victim. Basharat’s father was an officer
of Kasmir Administrative Service and has served a stint as Commissioner of
J&K Commercial Taxes. Once the terrorists attempted to blow up the car he
was travelling with his wife; fortunately he escaped unhurt.
****
After the meeting was over, I wanted to visit some
places in Srinagar. I suggested Lal Chouk. Irfan turned grave and discussed
with the driver and the PSO (Personal Security Officer) in Kasmiri language, which
I could not understand. I said, “If you sense trouble, we should not go to Lal
Chouk. I should not embarrass you.” He said, “Sir today is Friday, normally
there are speeches after prayer, there may be some trouble. We should not take
risk.” I said, “Okay, let’s go to a Kasmiri handloom/ handicraft shop.”
We went to a handicraft shop. On the way I asked
Irfan, “The school students including girls pelt stones to the police and
police resort to pellet firing that injures and even blinds the boys and girls.
Are they not afraid of police retaliation? Why are they damaging their future?”
Irfan remained silent; perhaps, he did not know what
to say; he did not answer.
( With Irfan at Dal Lake)
The next day I read from newspaper there was trouble
in Lal Chouk after the Friday prayer. There was news; a reporter asked a ninth
class girl, “Why are you pelting stone to the police and risking your future?”
The girl answered, “What future we have in Kasmir?”
****
Amendment of Article 370 and 35A of the Constitution
abolished the special status given to J&K, but J&K still continues to
be in a state of unrest. A question haunts, whether P K Bhat will be able to go
back to his village? Whether the girl will get confidence that she can also
have a future in Kasmir?
****
( P.C. Mukhtar Ahmad, adopted from Under the Blue Sky)
I had reached early in Srinagar airport. While waiting
for my flight, I was sifting through the book, Under My Blue Sky, through the
lens of Mukhtar Ahmad, presented to me by J&K Commercial Tax Department. I
came across a photo of a bespectacled old man, with grey beard on cheeks and a
beaming smile on his toothless face. Rubina Sushil texts, “There is a river of
sorrow in the folds of that face, but you will see only a smile like the winter
morning sun.”
****
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