Bloodied Rivers of Kashmir

Dispatches: Kashmir’s Torture Trail

2012-07-06T09:46:00.002+05:00

Filming in Kashmir meant keeping rushes safe, dodging stones – and persuading the locals that daily life was worth showing, says Catie White.

Credits

Kashmir’s Torture Trail

Production company True Vision

TX 5 July, 10pm, Channel 4

Commissioner Siobhan Sinnerton

Camera/director/editor Jezza Neumann

Producer Catie White

Executive producer Brian Woods

Post Paddy Garrick, True Vision in-house

Summary Dispatches investigation following a Kashmiri lawyer in the most militarised place on  earth, as he uncovers India’s best-kept secret.

Catie White

Producer

There was no amount of explaining to our local AP – who had a day job for a busy lawyer’s practice and was doing us a favour by stepping into the breach in a hostile region where having someone who can spot the difference between a street vendor and a government spy meant keeping hold of our rushes – what we meant by future tense. Or character development.

“Let us know when [Ms X’s] story moves on,” we tried, as he kept an eye out for the competing intelligence agencies that follow foreigners filming in the Kashmir Valley. “Tell us when something happens to [Y]. Alert us when a significant event in [the carpenter’s] life is about to unfold.”

A funeral. A memorial. A homecoming. These were simple things that could help us achieve an intimate and fluid life – and death – story in this Indian state divided between Pakistan and China. It’s one of the longest-running emergencies in the world, for so long off our screens, especially when the Arab Spring drew away the last Western reporters, despite hundreds of thousands of local youths coming out onto the streets, throwing stones at the heavily armed Indian security forces. The troops returned fire with live rounds.

We arrived in Srinagar, the summer capital of Kashmir, in spring 2011, determined to seek out articulate teenage demonstrators to follow, through whom we would learn about these mega—protests that terrified the Indian government. However, the Indian security forces were also filming the stone-throwing boys; police snatch squads were seizing them in nightly round-ups that made them fear all cameras. On the other side, the police and paramilitaries, who had already killed 118 protestors, some of them children, had taken to beating journalists to stop them recording the unrest.

As we wrestled with the unwilling on both sides of the barricades, another potentially unfilmable development crashed over us: a state-wide government crackdown, with roadblocks and curfews that put several of the towns in which we had started making headway off-limits.

Mass arrests followed, with tens of thousands seized. Which brings us back to character development: how could we shoot what could not be easily seen among people who could not afford to speak out, using the local team of irregulars who struggled with our methods?

This has nothing to do with brains. Our local ad hoc AP could speak four languages. However, in a conflict zone where a pro-independence insurgency has cost upwards of 70,000 lives and at least 8,000 civilians have vanished while in custody – far more than in Pinochet’s Chile – all of the events we exhorted our fixer to help us chart seemed to him too mundane for TV.

A family silently assaying their dead son’s school certificates. The tearful joy when a sister hugged a wounded brother unexpectedly released from jail. We captured moments such as these despite the crackdown, and uncovered a shocking story about how India had restored peace in the Valley. But all of it came to us through people forgetting we were there.

It took time. We filmed on and off over a year. We spent days drinking saffron tea, munching almond biscuits and waiting for lives to coagulate. And in a punch-drunk state like Kashmir, when you are in the right place and the talking begins, it’s unstoppable.

A youthful insurgent went into a trance describing the inside of an Indian torture chamber, where Urdu graffiti welcomed him to hell. A veiled schoolgirl revealed, for the first time, how she had been plucked from class in her uniform, tortured and raped. A father sat before passport photos of his two dead sons, telling how he would never stop fighting to convict the security forces who shot one and then, when he protested, drowned the second in the Jhelum River.

It was when we strove to cover a story that things stalled, like the time we drove for 18 hours to reach a border village where residents were said to be captives of the security forces. A checkpoint stopped us and a young captain turned us around, mumbling into our AP’s ear in Urdu: “If the foreigners talk to anyone here, you will get it.” This the AP fully understood, and dismissed. A lifetime of threats had made him immune.

My tricks of the trade

Spend time constructing a non-partisan local team to fix, translate and guide.

If appropriate, seek out the authorities monitoring you before they act. It defuses tension.

Assume that every time you are on the road, someone is rifling through whatever you have left behind in your hotel room.

Take digital security seriously, protecting and disguising your rushes, encrypting your emails,

and talking on the phone in the expectation that everything you say is being overheard.

Pack a cafetière and good coffee.

Secret filming

Brian Woods

Executive producer

Funding a film like this is always a challenge. Channel 4 came on board early and we hoped that would enable us to attract the co-pro money we would need to make this film possible.

Sadly, we were unable to persuade our previous co-funders in the US or Germany that Kashmir was important enough to warrant this kind of investment. But we felt passionately that the tale of how torture is being used in Kashmir had to be told, so with the help of a modest, but much appreciated, advance against international sales from DRG, True Vision invested the rest of the shortfall and Jezza Neumann (pictured) and the team set off.

The film had to be HD-compliant, but also needed to be filmed as discreetly as possible. C4 made a special exception for Jezza to shoot HDV rather than full HD so that we could opt for a combination of Sony HVR-Z5 outputting the footage to a tape and card, and an HVR-A1 when even more discretion was needed. The HVR-A1 is ideal as once you’ve taken off the XLR and dispersed your equipment in bags or about your person, it doesn’t look at all suspicious. The only downside is that it records to tape, so you have to make sure you offload your footage as soon as possible.

The HVR-Z5, on the other hand, is perfect because, unlike tapeless cameras, you can put tourist footage on the tape and your real stuff on the cards; if you’re searched, you can hand over the tape and keep the card. Then back in the rooms, everything gets transferred to drives and put on hidden partitions, so it will take a seriously techy geek to find it. All our drives were then duplicated, with one set stored in a safe house.

One essential was protection when filming stone-pelting scenes. The team wore bump caps often used on building sites and Jezza had a motorcycle back protector.

Watch the Pre Trailer

Courtesy: Broadcast Now

2011-10-25T13:47:00.000+05:00

32 bullets, he took 'em all, to shield others from unrelenting guns

(Baba Umar)

It was the morning of January 21, 1990. The sun came up without much sparkle but it shone on young Rauf’s face for the last time. For, by noon, he was lying on the ground in his favourite blue jacket and green shoes, his body pierced by a hail of troopers’ bullets.

And, two decades later, his family and those who saw him getting killed along with 52 other peaceful protesters in Kashmir’s first massacre since the armed rebellion broke out in 1989 against the Indian rule, try to look back on the event that gave birth to a generation of angry youngmen, a violent uprising and a separatist sentiment never seen before in Kashmir.

On that fateful morning, Abdur Rauf Wani (24) and his father G A Wani, a government employee, watched from the window a huge but peaceful procession passing through Maharaja Bazar, triggered by the news of molestation of women in the old city, strict curfews and restrictions.

It was also just a day after New Delhi appointed Jagmohan as J-K Governor in a bid to control mass protests by Kashmiris.

In the street below, men in thousands raised their fists, with slogans ‘Hum Kya Chahte... Azadi’ (We Want Freedom) renting the air. Nothing unusual, as people had grown used to these reminders. But Rauf, unable to contain the surge of emotions within, turned to his father and what followed was a little "more unusual".

“Bauji, this’ll be now begairti (disgrace), should we not join now,” Zulehama Banday, Rauf’s older sister recalls his brother’s conversation with dad.
The senior Wani looked back, waited for a moment and then nodded his head. “Should I go,” Rauf again insisted. “Yes,” his father replied.
Zulehama says it was the first time that the family had okayed Rouf's request to join the peaceful protests. Rauf was soon away, smashing a flower vase in hurry. He stumbled but got up immediately. He performed ablutions, fixed the shoe laces, adjusted his jeans and slid both arms in the blue jacket that he had slung on his right shoulder till then.

Onto the road. “A neighbour tried to stop him but he wouldn’t,” recalls Zulehama, who by now had joined her father at the window to see Rauf disappear in a swarm of youngmen.
The long strip of rally that begun from Jawahar Nagar and Ikhrajpora, Rajbagh to reach Budshah Chowk. Earlier proposed to stopover outside UNO at Sonawar, people in the front decided to drum up more support from inner city. The crowd swerved towards Maisuma that would lead demonstrators to inner city till it reached Gaw Kadal Bridge over the Jhelum.
When the front-liners of crowd were halfway across the Gaw Kadal, the paramilitary Central Reserve Police Force (CRPF) opened fire with automatic machine guns from three directions. In the next few minutes, the bridge with littered with corpses and blood. The first day of Governor Jagmohan’s rule would pass in the bloodshed.

Muhammad Altaf Qureshi (50) remembers how the march was stopped with automatic machine guns and how a fearless youngman braved bullets from an unremitting gun nozzle.
“Without any provocation and warning, they fired on us,” he recalls. Qureshi, who was in the third row, says the sounds of unrelenting gunfire triggered a stampede on the wooden bridge. The charge pushed him on the deck and soon blood-stained bodies were dotting the spot. Whosoever tried to stand on his legs would be fired upon.
In this melee of bullets and screams, Qureshi noticed a youngman getting up, pushing aside with his hands both the dead and alive. “A trooper was showering bullets from a short distance and this youngman shielded people by blocking troopers’ view,” Qureshi recalls. “He took all the bullets on his chest.”

The youngster was none other than Rauf. Troopers with faces masked had emptied their carbines by puncturing Rauf’s abdomen and chest. The act of bravery saved scores from getting killed. Rauf finally collapsed, his face upwards; blood painting his blue jacket and green shoes with red.
Qureshi watched silently. He was motionless. The crowd had dispersed. ‘Mayhem’, ‘Massacre’, ‘God’ were the cries he heard from the receding crowd. On the bridge, troops were leaping on the corpses, kicking survivors and finishing them off. Qureshi pretended dead, hiding his face under someone’s blood-splattered torso.
“I preferred to lie with the bodies, knowing for sure I will be shot if I stirred. I closed my eyes and remembered Allah and recited Kalima without letting a sound come out,” he recalls.

Then the image of his three-month-old daughter flashed in his mind. He soon heard policemen speak in Kashmiri, shouting loud if someone was alive.
“For a while I pretended dead,” he says.
As if mere sack of flesh, blood and bones, the scene had deadened his body. He was picked up by a cop of J&K Police who inquired if he was alright. He saw policemen heave the bodies into a truck, over a tarpaulin and disappear from the spot.
“I was taken to a nearby fire station, from where I called up my home. They were waiting for my corpse after a friend and survivor told them about the massacre,” recalls Qureshi.
The news travelled to home faster than the body of Rauf. Zulehama, the other siblings and father panicked. Rauf had wished martyrdom when a funeral procession passed by the family’s house months back. Zulehama watched their elder brother Parvez Wani readying for Police Control Room (PCR), Batamaloo, where the injured and dead were taken.
At PCR gate Parvez struggled hard to enter the premises, as relatives of victims had already started to pour in. Back home, Rauf’s father was restless. He had allowed his son join the peaceful march. A sense of guilt had overtaken him. Others in the family were crying and consoling each other, assuming Rauf might have swum the river below the wooden bridge. Or he must have stayed at someone’s house.

“We were not sure, however,” Zulehama says.
Read More Here:
http://umarblogs.blogspot.com/2010/02/32-bullets-he-took-em-all-to-shield.html

Shopian Cover Up.

2011-05-29T11:21:00.003+05:00

Excerpts from a report by The Independent Women’s Initiative for Justice

In the afternoon of 29 May, 2009, two young women left home for their orchard. Neelofar and Asiya were sisters-in-law. Neelofar had married Asiya’s brother Shakeel, and had an infant son. Asiya a schoolgoing teenager aspired to become an engineer. In the evening Shakeel learnt that Neelofar and Asiya had not returned home. These are trying times in Kashmir, and there is much cause for concern when people do not return home before dark. Shakeel began his search with friends and family. As night set in, Shakeel sought the help of the police and together they scoured the countryside.

The way to the orchard is crowded with the security forces - the District Police Lines, an army outpost and a CRPF camp, with night lights. The Rambi Ara Nallah that runs through is clearly visible to the lookouts in the CRPF camp, under the glare of the search lights. Before the Justice Jan Commission, the night guards, stated they had seen the search party, but conveniently noticed nothing for the rest of the night, and had no explanation for the mysterious appearance of the bodies.

The police called off the search at 2.30 a.m. promising to restart at the crack of dawn. Around 5.30 a.m. Shakeel resumed the search. An hour later the local police joined and almost immediately the SHO Shafeeq Ahmed pointed out the spot where Neelofar’s body was found. Neelofar’s body was found at a shallow spot which is located about 100 mtrs upstream from Zavora bridge over the Rambi Ara Nallah.

It was observed by Justice Jan in the First Spot Inspection that the depth of the stream around the spot would be 2 -2.5 feet, with reasonably fast flowing water, but certainly not strong current to drown an adult girl. It is pertinent to note that this exact spot had been thoroughly searched by the family and police till 2:30a.m.

Asiya’s body was found further downstream, 1.5 km from the army camp. The exact spot is 1.5 km down stream from Zavora bridge. The dead body was found at an elevated dry spot in the stream. Those who helped retrieve the bodies of the two women saw enough to suspect that this was a case of rape and murder. The photographs taken of the bodies as they were recovered from the Nallah showed visible signs of injuries and wounds. When the bodies reached the hospital, there were two post-mortems performed on them to determine the cause of death and any antecedent injuries. It was put out by the police that the deaths were caused by drowning although the first post mortem report itself had negated drowning as the cause of death of the two women.

Whenever a crime occurs, what leads the investigator to the accused are a series of material, forensic, scientific, medical, circumstantial and ocular evidence. The diligent collection and professional analysis of these pieces of evidence enable the whodunit to be solved. Similarly the mystery surrounding the killing of 2 young women in Shopian could have been unraveled by piecing together the clues.

However at every stage those responsible for unmasking the culprit/s, have systematically and deliberately destroyed, tampered, diluted, the evidence and thus misdirected and obfuscated the investigation. The truth of this damning statement is borne out by the facts enumerated below:

The spots from where the bodies of Neelofar and Asiya • were recovered were not preserved or cordoned off by SHO Shafeeq Ahmed and SI Gazi Abdul Kareem and no instructions to that effect were given by the S.P. Javed Mattoo. Evidence relating to vehicle tyre marks, footprints was not gathered, these could have provided a vital trail leading to the accused. No instructions were given by the S.P or SHO to photograph the bodies. No detailed or accurate site plan of the spot was prepared. For instance the motorable approach road into the Rambi Ara Nallah is conveniently not marked. Again relevant details such as the depth, width of the stream and the speed of the current were left out.

Neither the S.P. Javed Mattoo nor the Dy. S.P. went to the spot to supervise the investigation.The S.P.,Dy S.P. and SHO • all three admitted before the Jan Commission that contrary to the settled position of law they did not issue instructions for registration of the F.I.R

Clothes of the deceased women were not seized nor was any material collected from the spot where the bodies were found. The S.P also admitted that the visible injury of a large size on the head of Asiya was not measured.

The town rose as one to challenge what they saw as an attempt to cover up a crime. Shopian shut down for 48 days. The government had to set up a Commission of Inquiry, an SIT and the High Court had to interest itself in the matter before the town resumed a semblance of the everyday. Majlis-e-Mashawarat, comprising of the elders of Shopian led the demand for justice to the victims, their families and for the assurance of safety to all women of Shopian. The valley joined the call for justice.

6 months later, the CBI reportedly claims that what happened that night was a case of drowning. No one is to blame.

The drowning theory that the CBI is floating does not hold water, for the following reasons:

Neelofar’s body was found in the very place where the police and family had looked for them the last thing the previous night. That is, it was not there at 2.30 a.m., but was found at about 6 o’clock. And no one admitting to having seen it happen despite the high security in the area. Where were the women till then? In hiding? Why? Guard Commander B.B. Kumar and Pradeep Kumar admitted before the Justice Jan Commission that they had instructions to report any suspicious movement in the Nallah during the intervening night of 29-30th May, 2009, but had noticed no suspicious movement of vehicles in the nallah from 2:00a.m. – 4:00a.m. There has been no report or “leak” of the CBI, further questioning these 2 night guards.

The only test performed on both the bodies was the lung flotation test, performed by Dr. Bilal during the first postmortem on 30th May, 2009, which negated the possibility of death by drowning. When IWIJ met the CB-CID, at their insistence, a post-mortem report was flaunted before us, which did not bear the endorsement that drowning had been conclusively ruled out. Why did the police and Shopian administration announce drowning as the cause of death despite medical evidence to the contrary? Why were senior officers trying to convince us of drowning even after three months through an uncertified post mortem report? The drowning theory however continues to resurface and the CBI leaks are once again trying to resuscitate it.

All the officers of the department advanced the theory of death by drowning with full knowledge and belief that no one in the recent or past history of Shopian has died due to drowning in River Rambi Ara.

The Shopian Bar Association had during the course of it’s independent fact finding found 2 public witnesses viz. Abdul Rashid and Ghulam Mohi-ud- Din. On 29th May, 2009 around 7:30 -8:00 p.m., these 2 men just after crossing the Zavora bridge on Rambi Ara Nallah, saw a blue colour 407 police truck with khaki tarpal on the left side of the road, in which 2 girls were shouting ‘Mouji Mouji’. The eight uniformed men guarding the front and rear of the truck abused, threatened and forced these two witnesses to flee from the spot.

All witnesses who may testify to a cause of death other than drowning have been systematically compromised. Significantly witnesses who did not support the drowning theory have reportedly under sustained interrogation from the CBI changed their stance.

As for accidental drowning, of two women, in such shallows, in a nallah where no one in recent or living memory has ever drowned – we would need to be more than merely credulous to believe that possible! While available evidence has been manipulated and distorted, crucial material, circumstantial,ocular and forensic evidence was deliberately never collected and allowed to be destroyed, lest the tell tale signs point an accusing finger.

Auschwitz in the old city by Sameer Bhat

2011-05-21T15:05:00.002+05:00

Yeh kiska lahu, kaun mara
ai rahabar mulko kaum bata

~Whose blood is this, who died?
Oh leader of my nation, speak up
[My translation of Sahir Ludyanvi’s verse lines]

Word was out, like a lion that hadn’t eaten for days. Early Monday morning three gunmen had barged into the Lake view home of Kashmir’s Mirwaiz – Chief preacher and spiritual leader to more than five and a half million Kashmiri Muslims – and went straight to Maulvi Muhammad Farooq’s alcove. The men had the mental maps worked out and knew exactly where to find the head priest.

A hugely influential but controversial leader, Maulvi Farooq was quite urbane and classy. He would appear in Srinagar’s historical Jamia Mosque at noon-time on Fridays clad in an intricately embroidered gown and a Karakul cap with trademark black glasses. A thousand eyes would look at him in awe as he slowly ambled towards the pulpit of the 600-year old perfumed prayer hall, ornate in exquisite Indo-Saracenic architecture. All 370 wooden pillars in the mosque stood upstanding. The chandeliers pendulated.

But when have gun-barrels respected superior lineages? The men, who entered the Mirwaiz house, on May 21, 1990, pushed their way into his study and even before the 11th Mirwaiz of Kashmir could understand what was happening, a volley of bullets hit him. Centuries old reverence was brutally violated. Always pro-Pakistan, Maulvi Farooq had recently fallen out of favor with the hardliners. A meeting with India’s Kashmir affairs minister and subsequently calling the kidnapping of Rubiya Sayed ‘un-Islamic’ acted as an immediate provocation.

By the time the reverend was wheeled to the Sher-i-Kashmir [Lion of Kashmir] institute of medical sciences, a hospital ironically named after his bete-noire Sheikh Abdullah, with fifteen gun-wounds to his head, chest, stomach and legs, Mirwaiz was dead. Kashmir’s grand abbot was no more, slaughtered by his erstwhile followers. Irate crowds began to gather outside the hospital as news got around. Governor Jagmohan – recently dispatched to tame Kashmiris – got into a huddle with his security advisors at Raj Bhawan, a few kilometers away. Indignation rained.

There was some scuffle over Mirwaiz’s dead body. The hospital authorities were hesitant to hand it over. People took forcible control of the slain leader’s body and carried it in a procession through downtown Srinagar. The crowd swelled as more and more people joined the cortege. Sloganeering hastened. Women wailed. Near the Islamia College of science and commerce, located at Hawal, the 69th battalion of CRPF intercepted the marchers. Suddenly, skittish like stupefied horses, troopers aimed their guns on the mourners. A curtain of fire followed. 57 innocent people were cut to an instant death.

The pallbearers were all dead. Mirwaiz’s body fell off the coffin, on the road. Two more bullets hit his mortal remains. The air was rent with terrifying screams and more bullets, which seemed to ricochet off the walls and hit even more people. In less than three minutes, the funeral procession was reduced to a pile of dead. The road outside the college resembled a concentration camp, with bodies scattered all over, a blood-soaked coffin, hundreds of slippers, bedaubed in blood. Hawal was Srinagar’s little Auschwitz in that hour.

There are conflicting reports about what happened afterwards: Eye-witnesses who spoke to foreign media said that as soon as the CRPF guns fell silent (having exhausted their ammunition), around six to seven men -- from the procession -- collected Mirwaiz’s body from the roadside and placed it in the coffin. By all accounts they ran with the casket to Mirwaiz’s office. The cleric was later laid to rest in Srinagar’s Martyr’s graveyard. Those who perished in the blood-bath were buried the same day. Sometimes in history mourners can swiftly become mourned.

Ironically the man alleged to have led the hit squad to assassinate the Mirwaiz, Abdullah Bangroo, was killed less than a month later by troopers. In an atmosphere as malefic and morbid as Kashmir it is hard to sift through the official and unofficial versions. Often both are contradictory. Call it a quirk of fate, Abdullah Bangroo lies buried very close to Mirwaiz's tomb in the Martyr’s cemetery in Srinagar.

No one was ever charged or punished for the May 21 killings. Governor Jagmohan, under whose watch the mass murder took place, never showed any remorse.

Blood, bought for a song.

© 2010 Sameer

Burden of Memories

2011-05-17T17:07:00.003+05:00

By Uzma Falak for Kashmir Dispatch

My memory keeps getting in the way of your history - Agha Shahid Ali.

A little over fifteen years ago, while holding my mother’s arm, I looked out from a window of my house in Srinagar. The sight though blurred now, my memory bears an indelible impression; men shouldering the dead in shrouds, women wailing and the air resonating with slogans of Hum Kya Chahtay? Azaadi! (What do we want? Freedom!) I vividly remember asking my mother, “When shall we get Azaadi?” I didn’t know what Azaadi meant, though I knew that the people of my land desperately wanted it. A long silence had followed my question.

Today, after all those years, I stand at the same window, now with a broken pane, bearing witness to the same yearning, anger and asking the same question to myself. When shall we be free?

No matter how hard our elders tried to shield us from the trail of destruction outside, their efforts failed. My generation grew up listening to terms like Curfew, Crackdown, Martyr, Tehreek. Azaadi was in the air – at the bakers’, in dining rooms, in buses and on the streets.

My childhood passed under the shadow of a gun. Dreams were interrupted by the deafening sound of gunshots and grenades. I remember my brother’s favourite past time was to make wooden toy-guns and play what he called ‘encounter-encounter’. During cricket matches no one around me would cheer for India. As a child, I failed to comprehend the sentiment, however, gradually in those small but strong signs I started to find my identity as a Kashmiri.

On a sunny afternoon, I remember walking home from school with my friends. The roads were barricaded, the troopers stopped us and one of them frisked our school bags. He even frisked my friend’s lunch box, which made me angry. I snapped back saying, “We are school going children and this is a lunch box. How can you expect...” He was red in the face as I looked sharply at him and walked away. Anger and excitement gripped me at the same time as I hurried back home to narrate what I thought was an act of gallantry. But, my mother was scared. She scolded me saying, “They could have shot you there and then.”

At educational institutions books conceal our history, even maps are distorted. But planners of such tactics forget that children here live in conflict and life is the greatest teacher.

The heavy presence of troopers, the army pickets at every nook and corner, the barbed wires and barricades, the frisking – it all seemed ‘normal’ until I stepped out of Kashmir and found a different world. It was then I realized that my home was not ‘normal’.

Debates surrounding us made me inquisitive and I found that in the United Nations, the state of Jammu and Kashmir was registered as a dispute after litigation made by the first Indian Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru. The UN suggested a plebiscite, which was accepted by Nehru and promised to the people of the state during his speech on All India Radio in 1948 and also while addressing a mammoth gathering at Lal Chowk in Srinagar. Nehru made this promise time and again.

But instead of holding to the promise, New Delhi indulged in systematic abrogation of the special status guaranteed to the state under the Treaty of Accession. Till 1987, observers say not a single state election could be termed ‘free and fair’; such doctored democracy could only breed rebellion. Two years later, an armed uprising erupted and New Delhi’s response was repressive, to say the least. The number of people killed is disputed, but the widely accepted figure is 70,000.

Since childhood I have only known the inhuman face of India’s presence. Victims of torture, rape, forced disappearances, unmarked graves, widows, half widows, orphans – their common address is Kashmir.

In 2005, a bomb blast outside Tyndale Biscoe and Mallinson girls’ school, where I studied, left me uneasy for days. Disturbing images of my classmates and children yelling, crying in pain; blood soaked uniforms and blood spilled floors. My helplessness at not being able to locate my younger brother in that huge crowd of media men, ambulances, OB vans and troopers still haunts me.

The picture perfect Kashmir, is not only about the picturesque Dal Lake and Mughal gardens it is also the most densely militarized zone in the world. Here minors are booked under draconian laws like the Public Safety Act (PSA), which allows people to be held without trial for up to two years. There are no juvenile homes here. The Armed Forces Special Powers Act (AFSPA) gives Indian troops free hand to search, arrest, shoot and also provides them with immunity from prosecution. Human rights violations, a plagued justice system and bad governance are what people are protesting against.

With my childhood memories hoarded, 2010 only reinforced my identity as a child of conflict. And, it also came with a yearning to express our collective pain. For me writing became a consolation and a need.

Marked as the year of Innocent Killings, 2010 began with the killing of Inayat Khan, 16, who was shot by troopers on his way to tuition on January 8. Days later, Wamiq Farooq and Zahid Farooq, both school going boys like Inayat, became victims of the government forces’ actions. Worst was yet to come; on April 29, the Indian Army killed three Kashmiri youth in a fake encounter near the Line of Control (LoC) in the Machil sector. The situation became aggravated after 17-year-old, Tufail Ahmed Mattoo, who was returning from tuitions, was hit in the head with a teargas canister inside the Gani Memorial stadium in Srinagar’s old city. After that our days passed counting the dead; in total 118 people were killed during the summer unrest of 2010.

The words of Faiz Ahmed Faiz sum up our miseries. “The executioner's hands are clean, his nails transparent. The sleeves of each assassin are spotless. No sign of blood: No trace of red…”

Kashmiris have been alienated for decades. With every case that is forgotten, the memory sharpens. With every act of injustice a new stone thrower is born. The government has failed to reach people. In a volte-face, the government charged dead Wamiq, 13, of causing injury to a cop instead of bringing his murderers to book.

“There are countless pending cases and everyone knows the fate they meet. We don’t have any hopes. We can’t push it to the court for long. We are common, poor people and can’t afford the costs. Allah is the witness and that is the only consolation.” These words of a brother, whose sister was among those killed, speak volumes about the faith common man has in the judiciary.

Terms like healing touch, negotiation table and dialogue have been used and abused by the government repeatedly. In reality India’s answer to stones has been brute force. Though India’s diagnosis has always entered on development and employment, intentionally shoving the real issue under the rugs of oblivion. Labelling the unrest as part of Pakistan’s Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI) and Lashkar-e-Toiba (LeT) backed is seen as yet another desecration of Kashmir’s sentiment.

A 5th grader in my neighbourhood secretly comes out of his house, without letting his mother know, to pelt stones and register his protest. Is he, a boy in grade 5, funded by ISI or LeT or is he crying for employment? I will let you be the judge.

I saw 9-year-old Sameer Rah in shrouds, his tiny body on a stretcher, being carried for the burial. He was ruthlessly beaten to death, and when his body was found he still had a half eaten toffee in his mouth. I can’t forget the face of his wailing mother and my own helplessness as I stood on the street testifying. The tearful voice of Sameer’s friend from a mosque loudspeaker still echoes in my head, “Sameer your blood will bring revolution!”

Concertina wires, barricades, burning tires or its leftover, crushed glasses, scattered stones – these have become signposts on every street in Kashmir. The graffiti Go India Go, We Want Freedom – a message loud and clear, is what every street in Kashmir says.

While the idea of Azaadi remains dear to the heart of Kashmir, there has been a clear transition from guns to stones and slogans and many other forms of dissent. While peaceful protests on the streets are quelled, they have reached cyberspace. Videos and pictures, depicting the gory realities of New Delhi’s troops have been shared across the globe.

In these times, when the mind is busy in damage control and when everyday brings with it new ordeals, we have to keep our head and wage war against our memory lest we forget. Our memory is the strongest weapon in such times.

As a Kashmiri I don’t hate Indians; I have many Indian friends. The protest is against the impotency of the Indian government to understand our sentiment. It is over 60 years and India should respect the ideals of the democracy that it claims to uphold, otherwise, its global image of being the world’s ‘largest democracy’ might be dubbed as the biggest PR scam in history.

Iram, a forty-day-old baby girl, died just because she couldn’t make it to hospital as government forces did not allow her family through during curfew. Iram’s 5-year-old sister, when asked, innocently said woh margayi, military walon ne jaanay nahe diya (she died because troopers didn't let her go). Iram’s sister will find her identity as a Kashmiri in these signs, the way I did when I was a child. And when she grows up she too will sing the songs of Azaadi.

Courtesy: Kashmir Dispatch

Lest we Forget: Lal Chowk Massacre, April 10 1993

2011-04-04T11:38:00.004+05:00

In one of the most devastating incidents of its kind, on April 10, 1993, a large section of downtown Srinagar known as Lal Chowk was burned to the ground by Indian paramilitary troops, apparently in retaliation for the burning of an abandoned BSF building by local residents. The BSF commanding officer refused to heed warnings about the security risks of abandoning the force’s headquarters and bunkers, and then ignored pleas for assistance from local police who were trying to protect these sites.

The incident, which was one of the largest such arson attack by Indian forces since the beginning of the conflict, left at least four civilians dead in the immediate area and more in attacks in nearby neighborhoods. Although the senior most civilian authority in the city, Deputy Commissioner Abdul Salam Bhatt, witnessed the behavior of the security forces, he did not intervene.

Officer Majeed (name changed) of the Jammu and Kashmir police, said that at 8:05 a.m. on April 10, he left the station on duty and walked toward Lal Chowk. Before he reached Lal Chowk, he was told that the BSF had vacated their building, the Sandam Dharam Sabha building, and their bunkers in Lal Chowk, which they had occupied since the beginning of the conflict. He entered the building and saw that no one was there, and that the bunker had been demolished

"The local people asked me why the forces had left. I went at 8:15 a.m. to see the BSF commander of the 117th division, B.R. Sharma, in the Dashma Akhara building. I saw that the troops, about 100 men, were standing in position, ready to move. I asked where the commander was, and a BSF deputy superintendent told me that the commander was in his office. I went straight to the office but Commanding Officer Sharma was not there; he was sleeping in the room next door and came out in his nightclothes at 8:15 a.m. I saluted him and told him that I was surprised that the BSF had withdrawn its troops without telling us. He said it was the order of a higher authority to withdraw the troops, and that he had started the withdrawal at 11:30 p.m. the night before. I told him the building was not safe because the local people set fire to buildings which have been abandoned by the security forces. I told him the BSF should provide me one platoon to protect the building. He said he had no troops available. I asked him to please give me six or seven men. He said he would see what he could do. I left the building."

Officer Majeed. informed his superiors at the police control room and then returned to Lal Chowk. When he approached the Sandam Dharam Sabha building he was warned by the crowd that had assembled at the building not to go in because it had been mined. Concerned that the building would be set on fire, he returned to C.O. Sharma’s office and again asked for troops to send to Lal Chowk. Officer Majeed. told: "C.O. Sharma then said, "Let us have a cup of tea." He ignored me. I told him it was not a time for tea, but a time to save Lal Chowk. He said he would arrange to send troops to Lal Chowk. I left the building and saw that the Sandam Dharam Sabha building had been set on fire. It was 8:50 a.m."

At that time, the fire was still small enough to be brought under control. Officer Majeed ordered the police control room to send the fire brigades, and within ten minutes the fire fighters arrived and tried to put out the fire.The gunfire continued for an hour and a half. Finally, after the fire was out of control, but the gunfire had stopped, the Inspector General of the BSF, Ashok Patel, the Additional Chief Secretary (Home), Mahmood ul-Rahman, the Additional Director General of the Crime Investigation Department (CID), Amar Kapoor, and the Advisor to Governor on Law and Order (Home) D.D. Saklani, arrived and asked what had happened. One of the Jammu and Kashmir police officers told them:

"I requested BSF to save Lal Chowk, but C.O. Sharma showed me a coldness and ignored my request."

The officer asked IG Patel to send army fire fighters. Patel responded that he had already requested them. An hour later Governor Krishna Rao and Director General of Police Bedi arrived. The fire was still raging out of control. At 2:30 p.m., a single army fire truck arrived with enough water to last ten or fifteen minutes.

Mazhar, a waiter at one of the hotels, said that on the morning of April 10, 1993, he came to work at the hotel at 8:00 a.m. Everything was quiet at that time and the bunkers near the hotel were still occupied by the security forces, as they had been for many months. Then at about 8:30 a.m. he heard people shouting slogans of "Azadi" (Freedom) and "We want freedom." He said that when he looked out of the first floor kitchen and dining room windows he saw Jammu and Kashmir police and civilians running in Lal Chowk in front of the hotel. Just after 8:30 a.m. he saw smoke and flames rising from the Sandam Dharam Sabha building. He said that at about that time a security vehicle arrived on the scene. The vehicle went towards the fire and then returned. He saw SSP Rajendra Kumar come out of the vehicle, walk toward the Sandam Dharam Sabha building and then walk back to the vehicle and put on a bullet-proof jacket and helmet. SSP Kumar then went inside the Akhara building. After half an hour, he and other security forces came out and, as Majeed. watched from the dining room windows, about 100 security forces surrounded Lal Chowk and started firing indiscriminately.

After the fire started, people who were trapped inside the buildings tried to push open the doors only to discover that they had been bolted from the outside and could not be opened from the inside. The soldiers moved down the street, one of them carrying a green plastic bucket into which another soldier dipped a small can and then threw liquid from the bucket onto wooden portions of the buildings.

Within a few minutes, the buildings erupted in flames. The other soldiers continued to shoot all around Lal Chowk. M. saw a waiter from the hotel come to the second floor window and scream, "Spare us!", and then he saw at least two soldiers fire at the man. The man fell backward. Then the soldiers threw liquid from the bucket on the gate of the hotel. Fire erupted. Another soldier pointed some kind of weapon at the top of the Standard Hotel and fired and the roof burst into flames. Then the Jammu and Kashmir police came and opened the bolt on the door from the outside and five persons came out of the hotel.

Majeed said that at about 10:30 a.m., he broke open a window at the back of the hotel and escaped down the staircase of the mosque next door. As he went he saw that the doors of two buildings adjacent to the new Standard Hotel were bolted from the outside and people were pushing on them from the inside. He ran to Barbarshah along the by-ways and two others from the hotel escaped with him.

Tauseef, a resident, stated that as he was returning from home from Maisuma Bazaar, he heard bursts from light machine guns. He took refuge with friends in a house on Red Cross Road from where they could see the BSF putting liquid on the Standard Hotel and other buildings which then erupted in flames. When Tauseef learned that his own house was on fire, he ran out on to Red Cross Road. He saw five BSF soldiers on the street, some of whom were gathered around a light machine gun outside the burning Standard Hotel. When Tauseef reached home, he found the front door bolted from outside, as were other houses in the lane. He and his mother and sister then fled to a relative’s house in another part of Srinagar.

Mohammad, another resident of Lal Chowk, stated that he heard shots at about 10:00 a.m. The security forces banged on the door of his house saying, "Come out, we will kill you." After that, he saw smoke coming from the right side of the house. Majid and his family escaped through the back door. Since the burning of their house, the family has lived in a hotel.

In all, 59 houses, 190 shops, 53 stores where inventory was kept, two office buildings, five commercial buildings, two schools and a shrine inside the building were gutted by the fire. Four people were killed: a woman, Shishi Chouralsy; a man, Rahool Chouralsy, about 20; a boy, Mudasir, 14, who died of bullet injuries; and Bashid Ahmed Tantri, 30, a waiter, who was burned to death. One hundred and twenty-seven families lost their homes.

(Some Names Have been Changed)

Gaw Kadal Massacre : "I lay motionless..."

2011-03-13T22:47:00.006+05:00

By Sana Altaf

Again this year, Moisza did not celebrate her birthday. That day, January 22, once again brought back the memories of her maternal uncle, Rauf Ahmad, who laid down his life to save hundreds of people.

It was January 20, 1990, just a year after the Kashmiri insurgency against Indian occupation began. Faced with massive unrest as the insurgency swelled, the Indian government, unable to restore law and order, dismissed Kashmir's democratically elected National Conference government; the legislature and cabinet was dissolved and governor rule was declared. Indian bureaucrat Jagmohan Malhotra was appointed governor. That night, in response to militant attacks and the kidnapping of Rubaiya Sayeed - daughter of the former chief minister of Jammu and Kashmir, Mufti Sayeed - the Indian paramilitary Central Reserve Police Force (CRPF) conducted warrantless house-to-house searches, arresting hundreds of people, beating them and allegedly harassing women.

As word of the night searches spread, enraged mobs began to fill the streets. Unaware of the chaos, five-year-old Moisza (whose full name has been withheld at her request) kept busy with her birthday preparations while the valley simmered.

"It was January 21. The whole city was under curfew. People had gathered to protest against the incident. The protest had started from Raj Bagh [Srinagar], marching toward Lal Chowk and Maisuma [the city center]," remembers Farooq Ahmad Wani, one of the survivors of the Gawkadal massacre.

Farooq, then working as an engineer in the water works department, was heading for the Divisional Commissioner's (DC) office for curfew passes, but when he reached Jahangir Chowk of Srinagar, he was not allowed to move in the direction of the DC office.

"I was not allowed to go to the DC office, where I needed to get curfew passes. The security men directed me towards Lal Chowk. I started walking towards Lal Chowk, thinking of visiting my uncle, who lived nearby, on the other side of the Gawkadal bridge," said Farooq.

In the meantime, the peaceful protesters had passed by Moisza's uncle Rauf's house. As Zulehama, Rauf's elder sister recalls, "I had gone to my mother's place and started packing up Rauf's clothes for his journey to Jammu. He had just returned from his ski course in Gulmarg, so he was dressed in the jacket and sports shoes, which he wore even while he was martyred."

However, Rauf, then 24 years old, had promised his beloved niece Moisza that he would attend her birthday celebration before leaving for Jammu.

"My elder daughter Moisza would spend most of her time with Rauf and my mother. She was the apple of his eye. He had assured her he would attend her birthday on January 22," said Zulehama.

But watching the protesters from the window of his house made Rauf uneasy. Zulehama still remembers his words: "How can we tolerate disgrace of our women? If we stay quiet, they [security forces] will get up to anything. We all should join the protest, or it will be immodest on our part."

Rauf performed ablutions and joined the protesters. A mob of men, women and children marched chanting through the streets and lanes. Farooq, who was heading to his uncle's house, walked casually by the peaceful protesters, but when they reached the Gawkadal bridge in the heart of Srinagar City, Indian security forces opened fire on them.

"As the protesters reached the Gawkadal bridge, one gunshot was heard first, which was immediately followed by indiscriminate firing," recalls Farooq.

The fearful protesters scattered, and the firing continued as the CRPF chased them through lanes and alleys. Some of the protesters jumped into the Jhelum River. Those who could not escape were shot on the spot. Not a single person was spared.

"I had walked amid women thinking that they would not fire on them, but the CRPF men did not spare them either. Those who were injured were again shot in the head by the security personnel to make sure to kill them," recollects Farooq.

In this atmosphere of bloodshed and frenzy, the CRPF resorted to firing on the mob with machine guns. Zulehama sobs as she remembers what happened next. "Watching this, Rauf, who was a part of the protest, turned the machine gun towards himself. It pierced him deep with 32 bullets, saving scores of protesters while ending his life. As Rauf sacrificed his life for his nation and people, Moisza kept waiting for her darling uncle to celebrate her birthday."

As Rauf gave his life, Farooq struggled to live for his children. "I remembered my three daughters and thought of what would happen to them if I died," says Farooq. The girls were all toddlers at the time.

In an effort to save his own life, Farooq contemplated jumping from the bridge into the waters of the river Jhelum that flowed beneath it. But as he neared the edge of the bride to jump, a tall man came rushing at him, struck him and pinned him down to the ground before jumping into the water himself.

"I lay flat on the ground, scores of dead bodies around me. Not a single person was alive. I lay motionless to signal to them [the CRPF] that I was dead," Farooq said.

In the rush of the incident, a kangri, or heating pot, had crashed to the ground. Farooq's face lay on its hot ash as charcoal burned beside him. When he slowly turned his face to escape the heat, his motion caught the eye of a CRPF officer who quickly approached him.

"'He is alive,' an officer said aloud, abusing me in Hindi," remembers Farooq.

As the officer approached him, Farooq rose to his knees, his hands raised, pleading the officer not to harm him.

"Taking no sympathy on me, the officer shot the whole round of bullets into me with his carbine gun, knocking me down. I became half-unconscious, my body burning and feeling thirsty," recalls Farooq as his green crystal eyes dampen with tears.

After a while, Kashmir's local police arrived on the scene. As they surveyed the dead, they grew fierce with anger.

"I could see their faces red with sympathy for us and anger over the incident. Observing the anger of the police officials, one CRPF official slapped some of the local police personnel, asking them to leave or they will be shot, too," said Farooq. The policemen retreated.

Farooq again lost hope and lay back in pain when he was approached by a CPRF officer he assumed to be the subordinate of the one who shot him.

"He came toward me and saw that I was alive. He used abusive words and pointed his gun on my temple and began to press the trigger when the officer who had shot me before shouted from a distance, 'I have shot him enough. He will die on his own. Do not waste your bullet,'" remembers Farooq.

The official withdrew his gun and pushed Farooq to the ground. An eerie silence followed all around, which broke only when a truck landed to take the dead bodies. "A Sikh CRPF personnel stood near me, and I feebly pleaded with him to take me into the truck, as I was alive. He took hold of my muffler and dragged me into the truck along with other dead bodies," said Farooq.

The truck, filled with the dead, reached the police control room, where the corpses were unloaded. The control room doctor was called. The concerned physician examined them all.

"When the doctor saw me alive, he immediately ordered me to be taken to hospital, and I was rushed to hospital and saved," says Farooq, heaving a sigh.

Farooq remembers that besides him, a teenaged boy was also alive. The young man had taken a bullet in his knee and was crying fretfully in pain, but, upon reaching the control room, he ran away.

"The hospital was in chaos as all the dead were brought there. But on seeing me alive, people came to me, kissed me and hugged me. And amid all that, I noted a small boy holding my shoes close to his chest," smiles Farooq.

After two months of bed rest, Farooq recovered and returned to work. But the trauma stayed with him.

"I faced severe depression. I have been since taking antidepressants. When I work too much or think, I get tired. Doctors had even suggested that I relocate outside of Kashmir to overcome my condition. The incident has left a deep impact on my mind. Not a day passes when I don't think of that day," said Farooq.

The Gawkadal massacre left scores of people dead. While police say only 32 people were killed, eyewitnesses put the count at between 100 and 200 people. The most commonly used figure is 52. Since the incident has never been investigated, exact figures are still unknown.

Despite the clear evidence and eyewitness accounts, no known action was taken against any CRPF officials who ordered their forces to open fire at Gawkadal, or against the officers present during the shooting. No public inquiry was ordered into the incident. The police did file complaints against demonstrators who pelted stones at security forces, but even these were not investigated. Without an investigation into the events at Gawkadal, there will be no chance of holding those responsible accountable.

The Gawkadal massacre is regarded as the bloodiest massacre to date in the history of Kashmir. Human rights activists here see the incident as a turning point in the history of Kashmir, and define the killings as the primary catalyst for the mass militant movement. As Human Rights Watch said in a May 1991 report, "In the weeks that followed as security forces fired on crowds of marchers and as militants intensified their attacks against the police and those suspected of aiding them, Kashmir's civil war began in earnest."

"Gawkadal massacre changed the mindset of the people of Kashmir towards India. In that protest, only 10,000 people participated, but it followed mass protests in which hundreds thousands of people thronged to the streets," said Khurram Parvez, an award-winning Kashmiri human rights activist and cofounder of Jammu and Kashmir Coalition of Civil Society.

Khurram said the Gawkadal massacre "pushed people to join militancy and receive training." Khurram's maternal grandfather was killed in the violence that day.

"I was 14 years of age then, and the man behind that massacre lived next door. It was a torture to see him every day. As a young boy, I had decided to take revenge on him, but then, as I grew up, I realized that the greatest revenge would be fighting for justice," says Khurram.

Twenty-one years later, the situation in Kashmir remains unchanged. The security forces' killings of innocents have not ceased, nor has the government's indifference towards such incidents. On January 8, 2010, 16-year-old Inayat Ahmad was killed in a shooting by Indian security forces. Ahmad's killing was followed by the death of 13-year-old Wamiq Farooq, who was hit in the head by a tear gas shell. Death came to 16-year-old Zahid Farooq after he was allegedly shot by security forces, having done nothing to provoke them, while playing cricket on February 5, 2010.

The cycle of killings continued and took an even more violent turn following the killing of 16-year-old Tufail Ahmad Mattoo, who was allegedly hit in the head by a tear gas shell as he was returning home from his tuitions. Tufail's death triggered valley-wide mass protests. Security forces used tear gas, gunfire and pellet guns against the protesters, some of whom observed total nonviolence, while others pelted the security forces with stones. The unrest seized Kashmir for six long months, which were dominated by stringent curfews and resulted in the killing of 112 civilians. Even the funeral processions of the deceased were fired upon.

Shares Irfan Mattoo, Tufail's uncle, said, "They [security forces] thwarted Tufail's funeral procession by using force against mourners. I and many of our relatives, including Tufail's father, could not participate in the last rites due to unwarranted restrictions."

Seventeen-year-old Javaid Ahmad was killed when security forces fired on the funeral procession of another teenager, Mohammad Rafiq.

Despite wide condemnation from human rights organizations and activists, the state government has ordered probes into only 17 of the 112 killings.

As an August 18, 2010, press statement by the Indian human rights organization People's Union for Civil Liberties states: "Repression is bound to further alienate the people and lead to more unrest. The PUCL strongly condemns the continuing killing of unarmed protesters by police firing in the Kashmir valley even if a few from the crowd might have pelted stones at the police or the security forces. The policy of bullets for brickbats followed throughout the country is inhuman even under a dictatorship and is totally unacceptable in a democracy."

The statement adds, "had the state government policy been to punish the guilty policemen or members of the security forces perpetuating these crimes instead of protecting them by subverting the course of justice, people in such a large number would not have risen in the unarmed revolt to which we are a witness today."

Seeking an end to the human rights violations in Kashmir, Delhi-based independent human rights observer and writer Professor Badri Raina said: "I believe human rights violations can diminish, perhaps cease, only if and when an Egypt-like, nonviolent, secular, mass movement is forged and allowed to sustain itself by all sides to the conflict. By 'all sides,' I do mean the state agencies, the local militants, the infiltrating Jihadis, the Hindutva hotheads and all those who make money from mayhem."

Originally appeared in http://www.truth-out.org

Imagining Srinagar - Sarajevo

2011-02-15T19:01:00.016+05:00

The City is the memory of massacres. I hope words grow out of Gaw Kadal, Hawal, Burzalla, Zakura – cancerous, as Genet’s love of the Palestinians…

Srinagar is a city in mourning. Who remembers Srinagar in winter? The winter sky is a Hiroshima sky. The city is the martyrs’ graveyard at Eidgah.

The life of Srinagar is mourning,

To recover that memory, or to forget?

The brightness of the sky in Srinagar is cruel.

The midnight soldiers demand forgetting… They promised us flags of Fatah, they tantalised us with Jerusalem? But where did the Palestinians go?

I am a Kashmiri Palestinian; Srinagar Sarajevan. I no longer live in Srinagar but I see Srinagar as the absolute present of freedom. Of Srinagar’s singularities I can never forget the terrible Beauty of the Srinagar Intifada, Srinagar’s Rivers of stones. Why talk about this

Revolution? It too resembles a long drawn out burial, with me following the funeral procession from afar.

Naipaul writes of Srinagar that it sleeps through winter… in the winter of 1990, Srinagar is Berlin-Budapest-Bucharest, and Srinagar is Sarajevo. Naipaul’s medieval city explodes the night of January 20th 1990… on the stroke of midnight. My mother and grandmother are indifferent; they go back to sleep. I put on my phiran. I cross over to my neighbour’s; the women prepare kehava for the men while they are getting dressed. The women prepared kehava for the Sarajevans before they disappeared in the Hills. My neighbour is ecstatic. “I take no chances. I am ready. The UN is coming. Tomorrow is Independence Day”. They call the Faithful to the mosques…

Khoon-e-Shahida Rang Laya/ Fatah Ka Parcham Lahraya/ Masjid-e-Aqsa Roti Hain/ Kyon Yeh Tabahi Hoti Hain ((Blood of the martyrs has born the fruit/ the flag of victory waves from the root/ Masjid aqsa is wailing/ why this destruction is prevailing?)

… The loudspeakers speak to the Muslims. They killed more than a hundred demonstrators that night, the night of the Gaw Kadal massacre. The night of January 20th – the night of massacres.

“Srinagar, my friend, is the most dangerous city in the world”, said the JKLF sympathiser.

“Here the oppressor and the oppressed are too close to destroy”.

The intimacy nurtures Srinagar’s first suicide bomber for 9 years. Afaq, the Jaish suicide bomber who blows himself up outside the Army Cantonment (the ancient Srinagar of King Pravarsena) is just 5 years old in 1990.

January 1990 to March 1990 Srinagar is Prague, The city of demonstrations. They march to the United Nations Military Observer Group in India and Pakistan. There is a

Demonstration of Srinagar Chambers of Commerce, of students, of auto drivers, of Policemen… the incessant demonstrations last the winter. The March demonstration brings more than 1 million Kashmiris to Srinagar. People offer food to the demonstrators on the roads to Srinagar. Kashmiris turned azaadi demonstrations into an Urs fair. The soldiers open fire on the demonstrators… kill 10, 20, 50 Kashmiris, as many as it takes to clear the streets, the downtown bylanes – the hecatombs of the slaughtered.

The city is Curfewed for 17 days. There is no relaxation in the Curfew for 17 days in Downtown Srinagar, the nerve centre of the Kashmiri revolt. The Army is out in Kashmir, the schools, the hospitals turn into barracks and bazaars into battlefields.

Everybody blames the government. I blame myself. I cross many military checkpoints on the way to school after the curfew days, fearless, in identification with the men behind the sandbags. You carry your identification on you. India’s national emblem emblazoned on

the ID card. Ashoka’s Lions – the symbol of India’s commitment to peace, the sole guarantee of your existence. There’s also the vague assurance: Truth alone shall prevail.

My grandmother blames Sheikh Abdullah for this permanent Revolution, the Inquilab. My mother is overanxious, all Srinagar mothers are overanxious:

Hum Hindustan ka khate hain, Always. I listen to Radio Azad Kashmir. I fight with my mother. I change. Spring is the season of blood. The JKLF militants hide in sewers or shrines before the city opens its doors. Buddhist monks fleeing persecution had sought sanctuary in Srinagar. Now the JKLF marches to Chrar-e-Sharief. They vow liberation. They fail. No one, nothing can put into words the six months, and especially the first weeks, in Srinagar

In 1990, Things get worse. The Pandits leave Kashmir. Srinagar lays siege to Jammu and Delhi as refugees. I am no longer in Green Vale, my school. The Green Vale School is miniature Srinagar; the experimental school humbled by its rival – the Muslim Educational Trust. Green Vale is Albinioni’s adagio, the Romeo-Juliet Bridge in Sarajevo. We study the Ramayana in class. We speak of Yusuf’s Beauty and Yaqub’s Patience. Inallaha ma’al Sabireen. Allah is with the Patient.

I remember my Srinagar… Tushar loves Muslim mythology (Friday sermons to bribe Tushar), Deepu roots for Pakistan in the India-Pakistan hockey matches, Vivek’s father lend me the book on Dialectical Materialism and I lose my religion to Vishal’s 25-paisa Hindu roti, my Kashmiri Shaivism… the city of absences. I’m everything you lost. You won’t forgive me.

“Send him to Bombay with us. We can take care of him. He is quite talented. Yeh yahan is mahool mein kya karega” (What will he do in this chaotic environment?), The Principal tells my mother. I change my school. My new school is New Era, New Era Public School. We dodge grenades for years to meet friends at Hideout Café where I exchange Poetry for coffee and the azaadi

I carry with myself is the moment when I kicked the barricade outside a military bunker.

There is no news of us in the world. People tune to BBC Urdu every evening at 8:30 & 11:00… we become the children of news. "Yeh BBC London hai" (This is BBC London)… we lower the volume so as not to attract any attention and huddle over the radio as if it’d tell our truth to us.

There is no electricity in Sarajevo, no electricity in Srinagar. Srinagar is deserted in winter. Blackouts. BBC London. No electricity for days. Before dying my grandmother looked out the window at the sky and said, “Now I want to be free”.

You can choose your target in Srinagar-Sarajevo, kill the son and then shoot the mother in the stomach so that she can watch him die before her own death. They keep firing to even kill two people you end up firing for minutes. It isn’t easy to kill people.

People hear shouts from interrogation centres. Landmines tore bodies to bits and pieces, severed the limbs and peeled off faces as if they were masks. Five thousand years of Srinagar is ruins, the shatter of shrapnel. The ruins of Beirut. The ruins of the spirit. The spirit is Sabra, the spirit is Shattila.

The relatives of nearly 2,000 people who disappeared are still tracing their loved ones.

“Please tell us whether they are dead or alive”. They destroyed the memorial that the children of the disappeared had built for their missing fathers. They write slogans with the barrels of

their guns, the seven-year-old boy’s splattered brains their ink. The Sikh soldier confesses in the Crackdown… he pulls out this diary to read out names of localities where if attacked they must fire indiscriminately, to kill. “Here on the Airport Road we must be careful”.

In spring as the almond trees bloom, the war tourists come to Srinagar, Journalists from Delhi. They occupy the Ahdoos Hotel on river Jhelum in the restaurant at Ahdoos the air is thick with xenophobia that the journalists carry with them from Delhi. Loss and suffering, just like the global debt, are negotiable and for sale.

Welcome to Sarajevo.

The ubiquitous TATA bus transports dreams to Lal Chowk “ Apoor, apoor” (across, across the Jhelum) to Lal Chowk. Srinagar-Sarajevo is the city of Border Crossings. Crossing over is quite common. The bus crosses Miljacka-Jhelum to apoor apoor Lal Chowk. Cross over to Srinagar-Sarajevo. The Land of Forgetting, Paradise on Earth. And then the boys of the border crossings also get killed… 73 on 5 May 1991… People in Srinagar mourn them in colourful wedding tents.

This then is the Imaginary of my Srinagar,the houses abandoned by Kashmiri Pandits, Pir-e-Rishiyan Nund Rishi, Lalla Ded, Nagarjuna, Abhinavagupta, Left melancholy, the fetishism of Kashmiri nationalists, the hyacinth roofs, fin-de-siècle bricks, the Jewish faces (I too am a bit of a Jew), the Aryan noses, Lal Chowk and other squares, Hideout and other Cafés and saints’ shrines.

The Space in my city is a ribbon of bullets.

Hind Bookshop no longer exists and there are no books in Kashmir Bookshop. Lal Chowk is set ablaze. Palladium cinema is destroyed. Only the facade of the foyer is left…the broken wall frames the singed Srinagar sky as the screen of the Palladium’s past…countless Hindi films fade to flames. I see Dr. Guru’s dead body. There is a hole under his neck… tears flow… this must be madness. My friend, how can I share your grief? They shot Dr Guru in cold blood outside his hospital. We move out with the funeral, they shoot at the funeral procession… I lie buried under people bicycles people… La Illaha Illallaha Muhammada Rasul Allah… this is Death. I run. They killed everybody, they killed everybody…and they killed just one man… I follow him through blood on the road and hundreds of pairs of shoes the mourners left behind, as they ran from the funeral, victims of them firing… “Who remembers who killed whom?”… I turn to psychoanalysis and Buddhism.

Maybe in the words of Fawaz Turki, I am too young to be Kashmiri. I am running away.

How long do I run?

Lest We Forget : Gaw Kadal Massacre

2011-01-20T21:48:00.007+05:00

On January 20, 1990 Jagmohan’s first address as governor stunned everybody. It was provocative. H e said:” I have come as a nurse. I will not take any salary. I will just take rupees 1000 to meet my personal expenses. I have promise you a clean administration. But if anybody creates a law and order problem, Meray Haathon say Aman ka patta Khisak jaye ga (the cards of peace I’m carrying will slip away from my hands).
It was clear warning to the people of Kashmir. And in less than 24-hours the threat was carried out.

It was January 21, 1990. The whole city was under curfew, massive search operations were going on in Srinagar city by Indian occupational forces to trace down the Militants. Shocking news spread all over. Many women had been molested and arrest of nearly 400 hundred people sent shock waves through Srinagar. Young and old came out to register their protest.
Allah-o-Akbar Kabeeran Cabrera (Allah is great; greater than the greatest).This slogan was chanted across Srinagar that evening. People gathered to protest against the incident.

In the meantime the peaceful protestors from various areas of Srinagar had reached Maisuma, shouting slogans. As the protestors reached the Gawkadal Bridge, the procession was intercepted by a party of J&K police and CRPF led by the notorious Deputy Superintendant of Police Allah Baksh. The men in uniform opened fire without any provocation. The fearful protestors scattered everywhere, and they were making their way through lanes, CPRF men were chasing the protesters. Those who co
uld not escape were shot, not sparing single man alive. “I had walked amid women thinking that they would not fire on them but CRPF men did not spare them too. Those who were just injured were again shot in head by the CRPF officer to make sure to kill them,” recollects Farooq Ahmad a survivor of the mayhem.

While everyone was running, people saw something that had never happened in Kashmir before. A CRPF trooper with a light machine gun (LMG) was firing indiscriminately on the unarmed people. Young boy Abdul Rauf Wani went to him and tried to snatch his gun. The trooper sensing danger emptied the entire magazine in to his chest. Rauf fell in a pool of blood, but not before he saved many lives of his brethren. Salute to this unsung Hero!

52 people were martyred and 250 sustained bullet injuries. As usual the official death was put to ‘21’. Police registered an FIR (NO.3/90) at police station Kralkhud against atrocious mob. But it makes no mention of the police and CRPF action.
21 years on, the case has been closed and he culprits have been declared ‘untraceable’.

How I Became a Stone-Pelter...

2011-01-17T22:25:00.007+05:00

I am from downtown Srinagar born in 1991. I was admitted to one of the best school of valley. As a child I had dream to become engineer. Whenever somebody used to ask me about my aim I would proudly say engineer. As I started to grow up I started to become familiar with many words which everyone used to talk about that among them few were "azadi" (freedom), "hartal" (shutdown) but I was unable to understand the meaning of these words. I loved the word hartal as it was holiday, so I always wished for hartal. As I grew up I came to know about mujahids. I used to listen to the stories of mujahids. I would often ask my elders to tell me about mujahids. They told me stories of many mujahids like Isaaq, Ishfaq, and Jan Malik which I liked to share with my friends.

Even I was named after a Shaheed Mujahid (martyr fighter) who was killed before few weeks I was born. Then Came the summer of 2007, I was passing by Nowhatta, It was month of Muharram. There was heavy stone pelting going on. I found it very interesting. I saw youth pelting stones and shouting freedom slogans. Initially I was afraid to go in front and pelt stones on Police and CRPF.

I used to think they are some angels fighting on the front. Days passed. Now I too had gathered guts to pelt stones on the front line. It was now 2008 I was busy with my exams. I heard about Amarnath Land Row. Things started changing very fast I had never seen kind of hartals (shutdowns) before. I had never seen kind of stone pelting before. It was totally new experience to me.

Now tear gas shell wasn't shot anymore, now bullets were fired directly. I saw many boys hit by a bullet and dying on spot. I was disturbed by this. I asked my grandfather once why they directly shoot on us. His answer was "Tse chuk mangaan azadi" (You are asking for freedom). This answer changed my mind. I started realizing neither we are part of India nor India considers us their part.

Now I started reading history about our freedom struggle. I came to know about many things about the Kashmir struggle. Now I started reading newspaper, magazines very keenly. I started observing everything about the political system. I wept when I read about Gawkadal, Zukura, Hawal, Bijbihara, Sopore, Kupwara massacres. I too wanted to become Mujahid.
I once joked with my mother that I will become Mujahid, her answer was pain full, first give me poison then you will become Mujahid.
Came 2009 I again started to remain busy with my studies but whenever there was stone pelting in Nowahatta I used go there and pelt stones. Stone pelting for me now, has become a reaction to the atrocities and d illegal occupation of India. I do it for a cause.

I was once caught by police and was put in custody I was also beaten but that also couldn't break me. When I was released I again started pelting stones. A policemen in custody told me why you pelt stones, do you think you will get freedom by pelting stones. If it is the case I am also ready to pelt stones, he said.
But still it is the only thing which makes me feel that gun or bullet cannot suppress my thoughts my sentiments and to live in occupied I want to be free....

I am happy when I pelt stones because I want to take revenge for every innocent killing. I know my stone wont harm them but remember it is not stone it is my feelings. I pelt stones because we are oppressed.

It was June 2009 Shopian rape had occurred. It was unbearable to hear rape and murder case of a girl and her sister in law. Tears rolled from my eyes when I read story of Asiya in newspaper. Once again hartals, stone pelting emerged with more boys felling to bullets to a response for protesting for justice from brutal Indian military.

I watched a press conference of Omar Abdullah on news channel promising to bring culprits in front of people and punish them in 24 hors. Honestly I was happy with his promise I saw a hope in him in bringing justice to the duo.
But nothing happened instead of justice their relatives were beaten. This made me more aggressive I wanted to take revenge, I wanted to punish murderers. More ever I considered cm for all this because his behaviour made me much aggressive much angry against India and their brutality here.

After one month of continuous strikes life was back on track. Again we started to remain busy with our studies.
But I always used to think why didn’t the duo got justice I once had seen news of a 14 year old girl from Delhi who was killed by unknown person in her bedroom. But Police wasn’t able to solve the case. It was then handed over to CBI who arrested the culprits in few weeks.

But in case of Kashmir CBI solved the case differently they didn’t arrested the culprits but made a funny story of the victims that they died due to drowning in stream whose depth was hardly unto knees. This clearly showed policy of India in Kashmir.

But whom could I ask these questions why didn’t they get justice? Why they shoot us if we protest for seeking justice? These questions always were in my mind. By pelting stones I dint got answer but I was happy I felt I am taking revenge by pelting stones but what else I could do who was their to listen me. I felt satisfaction by pelting stones by pelting stones I wanted to say them give us justice leave our Kashmir let us leave in peace let us live in place where no mother has fear that her son may return dead. These are not stones these are my feelings.

Came 2010 it was January once I saw Wamiq Farooq, He was a neighbour of one of my relatives residing at Rainawari area of Srinagar. Wamiq was very good boy he used to offer my times prayers. He used to call me bhai (brother).
After few weeks on one Friday evening I heard that a boy has been martyred after hitting by tear gas shell but I didn’t know unfortunately it was Wamiq the same guy whom I had seen before a day. When I woke up next morning I saw a picture of boy whose identity was yet to be revealed in newspaper. After few minutes I got call from my cousin that Wamiq has been martyred. For few minutes I totally froze I wasn’t able to speak. A boy hardly 13 was no more. You can understand how it feels when you hear death of person whom you know.

Wamiq was like my little brother I had never thought an innocent young boy will fell prey to their brutality. Once again hartals (strikes) and stone pelting emerged with more boys getting injured and martyred. Indian occupational forces were responding with more brutality, they are occupational forces their cruelty and brutality is not a surprise to us but I was surprised by the role of Jammu and Kashmir police our local police they are playing absurd role. One fails to understand the cause of their cruelty and brutality, Is it they want to show more loyalty to India or they are killing their brothers for money. What ever the reason is but the way they behave with their own countrymen is painful. Maybe they have became blind because of power government has given to them.

Wamiq's death gave birth to a powerful revolution. The revolution shook the existence of Indian rule in Kashmir. Now India started to show their military power to unarmed civilians. The way they deal with protests is answer to those people who call India integral part of Kashmir.

India has started to engage its every front to curb this revolution from politically to technically even media is being used to curb this revolution.
Streets of Kashmir have become red with the blood of innocent people. Jhelum has become red with blood of innocent people.

I know one day may be I will also fell to their bullets even I am mentally prepared for that because I have attained extreme limit of stone pelting. But remember my death will give birth to hundreds of kale kharab (hotheads). As I became kale kharab (hothead) after death of innocent boys from last three years. 65 deaths have already given birth to hundreds of kale kharab (hot head) who are ready to fight till their last breath. These kale kharab (hothead) are present at every corner of Kashmir. What ever will the future of present intifada but the struggle to free Kashmir will continue even if takes 100 more years. Next generation will produce more dangerous kale kharabs (hot heads) to free Kashmir.

The Author is Anonymous

Adil Ramzan Sheikh was Dragged and Killed

2011-01-07T14:20:00.002+05:00

In a summer that saw 100 people dead in an equal number of days, more than 2000 injured, inhumane restrictions on movement of people, and a gagged media, many stories went unreported. Like that of Adil Ramazan Sheikh, a teenager hailing from Palhalan Pattan, who was allegedly pulled out from a hospital bed and executed at the hospital gates.

In the myriad tragedies that hit Kashmir this year, Adil’s killing was just one. Just one of 125. Despite the fact that the circumstances of his death stood out, his story was lost in the heap of events. Rather than becoming the biggest story of the year, it remained an under reported one. No investigation was convened to look into the circumstances of his killing.

On July 30, the volatile Pattan town heated up, with the news of two people having been killed in police firing earlier in the day in Sopore. Protestors gathered on the highway after Friday prayers and engaged police and paramilitary in stone pelting clashes. Thirteen-year-old Adil could hear the sound of teargas and gunfire at his home in Palhalan, some two kilometers from the spot.

Adil’s father Muhammad Ramazan Sheikh still remembers the sequence of events that followed.

“We were at home, when we heard the gunfire and teargas at around 3pm. We came to know that demonstrations are going on at Pattan market. Many people from the village rushed to join in,” says Sheikh who also rushed toward the spot along with his son.

The duo and other people from the village were stopped at the highway, a mile short of the hotspot.

“As people from this side were stopped at the junction, they began to raise slogans there. Adil was with me. After a while, he and a few kids, taking the advantage of their age, sneaked through the police barrier to join the protestors in the market,” Sheikh said.

Sheikh returned home after some time. At 5.30 pm, he received a call on his cell phone.

“It was a doctor calling from Hospital (Sub District Hospital Pattan). He told me that my son is injured and that I should come to hospital,” Sheikh recalls.
Sheikh rushes towards the highway again. By now, he finds that posse of paramilitary at the junction has gained strength. He is not allowed to move towards hospital. He waits.

What Sheikh comes to know later, is that after reaching the market, Adil and his friends had apparently been jeering at some paramilitary men.

Adil is fired upon and falls injured. His friends try to pick him up but they are chased away.

“They (friends) had not been able to pick him up themselves, so they requested some women standing there to get Adil towards them. The women did, and Adil was taken to the hospital,” said Sheikh.

The Sub District Hospital Pattan is just a few paces from the main market. It has two gates, one on front side the other on back side. The two gates open into two different alleys, both of which lead to the highway at Pattan market.

The clashes in the town that day saw the hospital getting flooded with injured, as well as with people trying to save themselves the wrath of troopers.

Around 6pm Sheikh was still at the crowded junction, hoping to find a way to reach the hospital. He gets another call.

“It was the doctor again. He told me that CRPF had raided the hospital and were beating everybody there. They (staff) were hiding, he told me,” said Sheikh.

The caller, whom Sheikh doesn’t want to name, tells him that he doesn’t know about the status of his son, for now. Sheikh grows impatient, but cannot break through the police cordon. He waits. A few minutes later he gets another call from the same doctor.

“They have fired on him again. He is dead.” Sheikh is told this time.

A shattered Sheikh is still unable to make it to the hospital, though his priority has changed from seeing his injured son to bringing his body home. After repeated unsuccessful attempts to make it to hospital, he returns home, now waiting for friends and neighbours at the hospital to bring the body home.

There are barely any records of the tumultuous events of the day at the Pattan Hospital. BMO Pattan denied that anyone had been killed in the hospital. But he admitted that paramilitary CRPF raided that hospital that day, beat up patients, attendants, and even some staff. Asked if they had filed any complaint with the police, he replied in negative.

“I only report to my CMO,” he added.

But, despite official denials, almost everybody in the hospital knows the story.

Wishing anonymity, the staff told Kashmir Life that CRPF ran amok in the hospital beating anybody who came in the way.

“They manhandled a female nurse, beat up injured patients, removed their intravenous drips, and pulled off Adil Ramazan from his bed over there,” said a doctor pointing to a far end corner bed in the ward. Adil, he said, had a leg injury, when he was first brought to the hospital.

“After pulling him from his bed, they (CRPF) took him along. He was then fired outside the hospital gate,” he said. In the street, outside the gates, where Adil was killed, a number of protestors convened and brought Adil back to the hospital.

“This time he had been shot in the chest. He was dead already,” the doctor said.

Hospital records, however, do not mention the whole sequence. There is no record of Adil’s admission the first time. It only records him as being admitted with a fatal chest injury, which killed him. There is an error with the date too, in the records, which mention 31 June instead of 30.

A hospital source explained that when the injured boys were being brought to the hospital in the first place, they insisted on getting medical attention without admission slips.

Sheikh and his family had to wait longer for Adil’s body. Many people had assembled at the hospital and were trying to take the body to his home in Palhalan. Witnesses said they were not allowed to move on the main road. After some unsuccessful attempts the protestors took out Adil’s body on a hospital bed, and carried it on their shoulders. They then waded through the rice fields, walking more than six kilometers carrying the body and reached Sheikh’s home by midnight.

The next day newspaper reports, some of which didn’t get his name right said he was killed during clashes in Pattan.

Sheikh says he has never visited the hospital since, not even to get the records, nor has hopes of a police investigation. A fact finding independent team of Indian civil society has demanded an investigation into the circumstances of Adil’s killing. The team comprised of academic Bela Bhatia, advocate Vrinda Grover, journalist Sukumar Muralidharan and activist Ravi Hemadri of The Other Media, described the attack on hospital as a violation of International Humanitarian Law.

“Whatever the truth about the events that led to Adil’s death, there is little question that Pattan hospital on July 30 suffered an attack which by all acknowledged covenants, puts the CRPF and all other elements party to it, under the cloud of a serious crime. This constitutes a clear violation of International Humanitarian Law, and calls for an urgent and impartial investigation”: the team report (KASHMIR LIFE)

and we know what happens to these investigations and probes.

Heart Crushing Documentary of Kashmir 2010

2011-01-07T10:48:00.010+05:00

I don't have words to describe what they say for my heart is bleeding...

PART ONE: ANANTNAG (ISLAMABAD)

PART TWO : SRINAGAR

Jan 6, 1993: A town torched by Sameer Bhat

2011-01-06T15:53:00.000+05:00

There was sound of a huge bang that morning, like someone blowing up a cartful of dynamite. Just before the cockcrow. Most of the townspeople were asleep. The dawn prayers had thin attendance, mostly because it gets very cold in January. By nine o’clock a military patrol was out, doing rounds of the main marketplace. Suddenly gunmen emerged from a narrow alley and shot random bullets at the party before quickly disappearing in the maze that old Sopore is. Taken rather off guard, the security detail ran back to their barracks only to emerge again as Frankenstein’s monsters, spitting hell fire. In the next fifty odd minutes, they murdered fifty five people in cold blood. And burnt the town down.

Even after all these years nobody knows for sure what transformed the BSF party into the heartless creatures that they became -- that cold January morning. Hapless people, trapped in flames, had only two choices to make and both, it turned out, cost them dearly. Stepping out of their shops meant getting bumped off on the spot. Those who hid in their shops were roasted alive. Many people who were killed on January 6, 1993, were buried without their families being able to see them one last time. The dead bodies had faces -- that smiled, loved and beamed a few hours back -- too disfigured to be kissed a final good bye. Monsters seldom heed tears.

An unfortunate bus, half-full with passengers, on its way to Sopore got caught up in the frenzy. The driver oblivious to the savagery of the 94th battalion BSF was flagged down. Soon charcoal gray powder blew into the vehicle. Terrified passengers froze in their seats, their hands still inside their Pherans. A stash of gunfire lit the bus up. The ill-starred men and women banged at the window-panes, begging to be let out, but their screams met no saviors. The nearby shops were burning in maroon fire with real people in them. A hundred thousand books in the local women’s college were turning to dark dust in the library. The foot soldiers of the world’s largest democracy looked on with a ghoulish glee.

Entire families were wiped out. A respected Sufi Pir [spiritual man] lost six members of his immediate and extended family. His two grandsons, two nephews and two cousins. The old man was unwell in his bed when news of the doom came. Women began to pull their hair out and grown-up men wept inconsolably in his mud-and-brick three storey home, often frequented by devotees. Later when the corpses of all the six young men were lined up in the lawn, someone asked the Sufi if he wanted to come out and have a last look at the lads. ‘Oh yes’, the old man said and as someone walked him outside he whispered in the most feeble voice, ‘I had a dream last night and they told me that we shall take you to hear things I never imagined. I think this is the Taebeer [interpretation]’.

I feel somewhat uneasy writing this, recalling mostly from memory, from the pastiches of ugly nightmares of growing up in Kashmir of the 90’s. Ofcourse I was too young to comprehend how people in flesh and blood could get so godawful and burn fellow humans alive. It smelled of fear and flesh. We heard the wails coming from a distance. That evening the smoke’s twist was awfully slow.

In memoriam

To my fellow townspeople,

cut to merciless death on January 6, 1993.

We remember you.

Sopore Massacre 1993:"The memories of this incident will haunt me till I am alive"

2011-01-06T15:28:00.005+05:00

“PERHAPS THERE IS A SPECIAL CORNER IN HELL Reserved for soldiers who fire their weapons indiscriminately into a crowd of unarmed civilians. That, at least, must have been the hope of every resident who defied an army-enforced curfew in the Kashmiri town of Sopore last Thursday to protest a massacre that left 55 people dead and scores injured. It was India's latest blow in a three-year campaign to crush the predominantly Muslim state's bid for independence. In retaliation for the killing of one soldier, paramilitary forces rampaged through Sopore's market setting buildings ablaze and shooting bystanders. The Indian government pronounced the event "unfortunate" and claimed that an ammunition dump had been hit by gunfire, setting off fires that killed most of the victims” said the TIME Magazine in a column on Jan. 18, 1993.
The history of Kashmir is replete with blood-curdling massacres perpetrated by security forces of which the wounds of infamous Sopore carnage are still fresh in the hearts of the aggrieved families. 17 years on, the government enquiry into the massacre has yielded nothing.

Incidentally, the incident occurred one month after the Babri Masjid was demolished by Hindutva mobs in Ayodhya.
It was Wednesday chilly morning of January 6, 1993 when Border Security Forces (BSF) went berserk at around 9.30 am killing around 75 unarmed civilians including women and children, wounding nearly 300 people and property worth crores was completely gutted in the apple town of Sopore. On the fateful day, more than 300 people were injured in the tragic incident.
The innocent civilians were either shot dead or charred to death alive by the BSF personnel in order to avenge the death of a trooper who was killed when the BSF picket at Baba Yousuf Lane near the main street of Sopore town was attacked by militants just one hour before the mayhem occurred. The militants had also taken away the light machine gun of the trooper as he fell before absconding from the spot.
According to many eye-witnesses of the incident, the BSF personnel had publicly announced that they would teach the people a lesson for the killing of one soldier by the militants. At around 9.30 am, in retaliation to the killing of the trooper, the BSF personnel came out of their camps in and around Sopore and smashed almost everything which came their way. They resorted to indiscriminate firing and resorted to arson soon which is believed to be the biggest of its kind since the turmoil hit the valley in 1988.
The BSF jawans sprinkled gun powder along the market and set ablaze about 100 houses and 300 shops including Women's degree college and Samad Talkies. The carnage continued for around two hours. The firemen who had rushed to the spot were not allowed to extinguish the flames and had to wait for two hours to start the fire-fighting operations. Flames and thick clouds of smoke from the fire-ravaged structures were billowing out till late evening, the local residents recall. The maximum casualties were reported due to the fire and firing incidents.
The troopers fired upon the passengers of an SRTC passenger bus, JKZ -1901 which was leaving for Bandipora and set the bus on fire after dousing it with gunpowder and in the process killing its 26 occupants. No passenger was allowed to come out of the vehicles when the bus was subjected to heavy firing, according to the eyewitnesses. Similarly, all the passengers of a car, JK 6075 were also charred to death. They also showered bullets on the father and son who were loading goods onto their truck in the Iqbal market leading to their on-the-spot death.
An eyewitness of the massacre who had miraculously survived the gruesome incident narrated how the angry troopers rampaged through the main market, went for a frenzied searching spree in every shop to prey on their catch and sprinkled the gun powder on the shops so that there was least possibility of the survival of the hapless victims.
While recollecting the horrendous incident, he added, "I was not mustering courage to step out of my shop on seeing the troopers who were running here and there, firing indiscriminately on the people on all sides. Suddenly a trooper entered into my shop and cocked his gun. But before he could fire the bullet at me, I offered him a brief case containing heavy cash. While he got engaged in counting the money, I somehow managed to escape from the spot amidst the firing."
Many eyewitnesses of the gory incident said how the jawans brutally consigned people including children to flames. "I cannot forget the heart-rending incident when a trooper snatched a small child from the lap of a woman and threw it into the flames. As the mother of the child started shouting the trooper killed the woman on-the-spot by firing several rounds of bullets on her. The memories of this incident will haunt me till I am alive," said an eyewitness and survivor of the carnage who was watching this dastardly act from a distance.
Intriguingly, the state government in Jammu did not know about the developments in Sopore till 4 pm. It was only on account of some queries made by some press persons that the authorities began to make their own enquiries.
It took several days to the relatives of the victims in removing the charred bodies from the fire-ravaged structured including shops, houses and government buildings. Curfew restrictions in the town, inclement weather and police action on the protesting family members and close relatives of the victims, who were engaged in removing the charred bodies from the gutted areas, rendered the task of tracing the bodies of their kith and kin difficult.
Most of the charred bodies were mutilated beyond recognition. The close relatives who had also come from Bandipora, Pattan and Baramulla found it hard to identify the victims. "The only portion that had survived was the arm of my father; rest of the body was completely burnt. We could recognize his charred body with the help of the piece of jacket on his arm," said the son of the deceased. In Srinagar, instant strike was observed in response to the indefinite bandh call given by JKLF supported by many other militant outfits.
The media persons who rushed to the spot the next day saw Kangris (fire pots) and belongings of the people scattered on the roads and streets of the town with blood splattered all over. Remains of the charred vehicles lay in the middle of the road as mute witness to the gory incident. A team of 300 doctors from SKIMS hospital, Soura who had went to relief operations were reportedly reluctantly allowed by the army and paramilitary forces inside the town. Defying curfew restrictions, about 5000 residents of Sopore and Baramulla took out processions. Police resorted to teargas shelling and cane charging to disperse the demonstrators injuring scores of people including women and children. Similar demonstrations were held in Srinagar, Pulwama and Budgam.
The state authorities put the toll at 40. While the official handout circulated to the media claimed that the fire broke out due to some explosive material dumped in the market hit by the gun fire, the then governor, Girish Chandra Saxena, while expressing grief over the loss of precious lives in a special broadcast on Radio Kashmir next evening had said that the 40 persons died in the backdrop of heavy exchange of fire between militants and security forces. The official handout further read that the 'Operation Goodwill' which had been initiated by Indian government to wean off the massive public support to the militants those days had met its fate acompli due to the horrendous incident.
Saxena, who had visited Spore a day after the incident along with other high rung officials, announced an exgratia payment of Rs one lakh to the next of kins of those killed in the tragedy and 50 per cent, subject to maximum loss of property to those rendered homeless. The state government also claimed to have suspended an inspector and two sub-inspectors of the BSF involved in the Sopore massacre.
Owing to the mounting pressure and widespread condemnation from various quarters, the state government ordered judicial probe by a sitting High Court judge into the incident. The director general of the BSF also ordered a parallel BSF staff inquiry into the incident under the BSF Act. The then Jamat-e-Islami leader, Syed Ali Shah Geelani, termed the probe as an "eyewash" and called for boycott of compensation and any government probe which received a tremendous positive response from the aggrieved families.
A Sopore Commission headed by Justice Chaudhary was set up by the state government to probe into the killings, gutting of the property, quantum of force used by the security personnel on the duty, fixing of responsibility and to suggest remedial measures to prevent the recurrence of such events. The commission, however, failed to prove its efficiency in the wake of laid-back attitude by the Justice Chaudhary and finally the Sopore probe panel drew blank. The case was later handed over to Central Bureau of Investigation (CBI) but years later the subsequent investigations are still inconclusive.
Afzal Sofi, son of late Abdul Majid Sofi, 36, the one among those passengers killed by heavy firing on the SRTC bus on the fateful day, is still waiting for the punitive action against the guilty. Before leaving from the house for his duty in Baramulla, Abdul Majid, who was government employee at Handloom Corporation in Bandipora, had given few coins to his nine-year-old son for the candies.
Perplexed by the news of the incident, Afzal, now a youth in twenties, recalls how pall of gloom had descended on his family. "Our neighbours were trying effortlessly to pacify us, but to no avail. Suddenly one of our neighbours sitting on the roof of her house yelled, "Lo! There he comes." On hearing this I immediately ran to the main gate to receive my father and spread my little arms around his affectionate shoulders. As I opened the door, I saw hoards of people carrying the dead body of my father to my utter shock. I was completely broken," said Afzal as he was sobbing.
"Looking at the experiences of the fate of previous inquiries ordered by the government, we do not have any hopes that the justice would be done," he added. (KASHMIR TIMES)

The local residents regard the incident as one of the worst massacres in the history of Kashmir.

“I cannot forget that horrendous incident till I am alive; the troops were on rampage; I lost two relatives in the incident,” said Ali Muhammad, an eyewitness and survivor of the carnage. “I wonder can doomsday be worse,”

The mayhem continued for more than two hours with people—helpless and hopeless—watching the devastation from a distance. None from the civil administration or Fire Service Department were allowed to the rescue of the hapless people. Only the valor and heroism of the local populace made its appearance, helping each other. In one hour, the locals recovered the dead bodies of more than 50 civilians and miraculously rescued many more.

"Some fifteen civilians who tired to rescue their brethren were also shot dead by the troopers", said Abdul Majid, a survivor. Ghulam Nabi Bhat of New Light Hotel shouldered 11 dead bodies and before he could carry the 12th, he too was shot dead.,” he added.
The dead

Victims included:

* Abdul Majid Sofi, 35, S/o Muhammad Shafi R/o Krankshiwan
* Abdur Rashid War S/o Ghulam Muhammad War R/o Tujarsherief, Sopore
* Abdul Khaliq Malik S/o Ghulam Mohi-ud-Din R/o Arampora
* Abdul Ahad Kanjwal R/o Muslimpeer
* Abdul Ahad Shalla R/o Shallapora
* Abdur Rashid Sofi S/o Abdul Jabbar R/o Wanagam, Bandipora
* Abdul Ahad Liloo,70, S/o Baba Yousuf, Sopore
* Abdur Razaq Chalkoo S/o Ghulam Muhammad
* Bashir Ahmad Shalla S/o Ghulam Rasool R/o Shallapora, Sopore
* Farooq Ahmad Banday S/o Abdur Rashid R/o Sangrampora, Sopore
* Ghulam Nabi Zargar alias Shaheen S/o Qadir Joo R/o Badamibagh Sopore
* Ghulam Muhammad War S/o Muhammad Sultan R/o Tujarshrief
* Ghulam Nabi Bhat S/o Haji Abdullah R/o Sangrampora
* Gulzar Ahmad Sheikh S/o Muhammad Abdullah R/o Shahabad Sopore
* Ghulam Mohi-Ud-Din S/o Assadullah R/o Nathpora, Bandipora
* Ghulam Rasool Sofi S/o Muhammad. Sultan R/o Langate Handwara
* Ghulam Muhammad Khan S/o Bandipora
* Ghulam Muhammad Hajam S/o Abdul Gaffar R/o Mohallah Hajampora,
* Mohd Hussain R/o Tawheed gunj Baramulla

Our History of Kashmir has been filled with gut wrenching stories of Massacres. The Sopore Massacre is the worst act ever done against the Humanity, which would even put Genghis Khan to Shame. The Courts may have delayed and ultimately denied the Justice to the victims, the people giving shelter to the barbarians by outrightly denying any involvement but the wounds are still to be healed. The Kashmiris will never wake up from this inhumane nightmare, the screams and the cries are still heard in the Sky. Almighty is watching the oppressed and the helpless. For Justice and Freedom will arrive.

Rapes with Impunity

2011-01-04T15:32:00.006+05:00

Indian forces and paramilitary militias working with them have been responsible for rape throughout the conflict. Although the cases are created but most of them are never heard, and those which are heard are delayed and apparently denied.Reports of rape from Doda and other border areas have increased since the crackdown in these areas began in 1997.

The case of Sameera illustrates the army's practice of assaulting villagers in punishment because they believe they have supported the militants, or as a means of terrorizing them so that they will not do so. Sameera about fifty, a resident of Ludna, Doda, told Human Rights Watch that on October 5, 1998, the Eighth Rashtriya Rifles came to her house and took her, her husband and her eight-month-old grandson to their base in the village of Charote, some fifteen kilometers away. There they were separated. She said:

They began beating me. They said that we had been feeding the militants. They used electric shocks on my feet. I was raped. They stripped off my clothes and said they would kill me. There were many soldiers and a captain. The captain raped me, keeping everyone else outside. He told me: "You are Muslims, and you will all be treated like this." He was a Hindu, but he told me that he was a Muslim, and that his name was Shahnawaz. He forced me to confess that I had been feeding the militants. This happened on the first night. I was there for fifteen days. Then we were released.

Ten days after their arrest, while the family was still in Charote, Sameera's daughter, daughter-in-law and son were arrested and taken to another army base in Gundna village, where they were held for two days before being released.

When the family returned to their home they discovered that all of their belongings had been taken, including Rs. 10,000 [U.S.$ 250] and jewelry. At the time that Human Rights Watch interviewed Sameera., she had not yet filed a police report but had received medical treatment from a local practitioner. She stated that she was still in pain.

Residents of Marmal, Doda, told Human Rights Watch that in early October 1998 the army cordoned off some twenty villages in the area for fifteen days and during that time took some of the local women to the army camp. Although the women did not talk about what had happened to them, from their behavior the other residents believed that a number of them had been raped.

(Names have been Changed)

Unidentified Gunmen killing Pandits

2011-01-04T15:23:00.002+05:00

On June 19, 1998, twenty-five Hindu residents of Korra, a small village in Doda district, were killed by militant forces as they returned from a wedding in the village of Champnagri. Janak Raj, twenty-five, described the incident to Human Rights Watch:

After the wedding we went up to the roadside to wait for the bus by which we would return to our village. There were two wedding parties waiting there, and the men were standing separately from the women and children. We had been waiting for about fifteen minutes when suddenly five armed men showed up. At first we though they were soldiers. They were wearing uniforms [an apparent ruse], and they asked us, the men, for our ID cards. They were speaking in a Hindustani [Urdu] language. We showed them our cards. They lined us up in two lines. Then they told us to hand them over everything we had. The moment we started opening our bags, they opened fire at us with their rifles. I was standing in the line, and the person next to me was hit and toppled against and over me. This is how I was saved. I was not hit, and lay below my friend. I remained conscious, and stayed down for fifteen minutes. I don't know what happened to the armed men.Then a boy of about ten started crying: "What happened? What happened?" So I got up. I don't know where he was or wherethe women were. There was nobody there. Everybody had run away. There is a village some three kilometers nearby, Ganika. So I went there. A bit up from the road from there, there is an army picket. First the police came, and then the army. A total of twenty-five men were killed.

No group claimed responsibility for the attack. However, according to Superintendent of Police Munir Khan, the leader of the group responsible was a militant called Siraj Din, code name Mansour, of the Harakat-ul Ansar. He was a local from the village of Kotal. At the time of the interview he had been arrested and was in prison in Jammu.

The incident was one of a series of such attacks that occurred in 1998.On April 19, 1998, unidentified gunmen killed twenty-seven members of several Hindu families, including eleven children, in the village of Prankote, in Udhampur. The attackers also set fire to a number of houses. According to a report in the Washington Post, the attackers used scythes and axes to carry out the killings. One teenaged girl was also raped and then set on fire. She later died from her burns.

Can we ever know the truth behind unidentified gunmen killing Kashmiris?, Chattsinghpora massacre presented a case of Indian Army under the veil of "unidentified" killing people.

"The infant came down in smithereens"

2011-01-02T20:56:00.004+05:00

A small village that gave Kashmir’s counterinsurgency an alternative name wants to change its name now - hoping they would not be identified as Nawabadis. Ibrahim Wani and Farooq Ahmad (KASHMIR LIFE) report on the Nawabadi Mohalla and its haunting baggage.

Nawabadi Mohalla may pass off as just another small village in the Sonwari belt of north Kashmir, but for its street lights that make it stand apart. Those familiar with the village, don’t dare to take it for any other village, anyways.

Nawabadi has entered Kashmir’s lexicon as a word that strikes terror. There were many villages in Kashmir that became hotbeds of counterinsurgency in mid 1990’s but Nawabadi was one name that stuck.

A village of some three hundred people, two and a half kilometres from Safapora, Nawabadi residents now want to change its name to Mirabad. They no longer want to identify with its past.

A few kilomteres from father of counterinsurgency Kuka Parrey’s Hajin village, Nawabadi Mohalla gave Ikhwan some of its most dreaded men. Many remember the village as the birthplace of ruthless renegades, like Fayaz Mir alias Fayaz Nawabadi, notorious for extortion, rape, politically motivated killings. For the state security apparatus, that patronised them, these men were important to break the back of militancy in the Sonawari-Ganderbal belt and by extension whole of Kashmir. So they did. Hardly anyone was spared.

Perhaps because many of the first renegades came from Nawabadi village, the name in local parlance became a synonym for all the counterinsurgents or police informers. An alternative name for Ikhwan, the largest renegade group.

Nawbid was actually used in the area to refer to the residents of the Nawabadi Mohalla. So anyone from the area was a Nawbud. After the switching of Ikhwan to counter insurgency, apart from the ruthless renegades who emerged from Nawabadi Mohalla, the village provided a haven for all counter-insurgents. Even though only a few from the village carried out the dirty work, almost all residents were Ikhwan sympathisers.

Nawabdis trace their shift of allegiance to the killing of a JKLF militant from the village by Hizbul Mujahideen in inter faction rivalry in 1993.

Manzoor Ahmad was the first postgraduate from the village. He did his MA in Urdu from Kashmir University. Later he joined Jammu Kashmir Students Liberation Front and crossed the LoC for arms training. After this he joined Jammu Kashmir Liberation Front as Deputy District Commander. This was around the time when animosities between Hizbul Mujahideen (HM) and JKLF were building up.

While on his way back from Sopore Manzoor was picked up by Hizbul Mujahideen. “They accused him of being an Indian agent,” say the residents, “but at that time it was widely known that Manzoor was a man of character. It was actually that Ahsan Dar wanted him to join HM.”

When news of Manzoor’s abduction spread in the area, desperate attempts started to secure his release. “The negotiations were carried out at the highest level; almost all the known militants and separatist leaders were involved.

The residents were promised his release. “But he was not released. We kept on searching for him. We formed search parties and would search for him throughout the area,” says Kawaam Din. But the search yielded no result. At this time Fayaz, Manzoor’s cousin was in jail.

“Even Syed Ali Shah Geelani searched for him in his car. He told us that he had spent 13000 rupees searching for him,” he says, “Moulvi Abbas Ansari and Saleem Geelani also mediated but to no avail.”

Demands for Manzoor’s release were building up. People were protesting. The Hajin bazaar remained shut down for 25 days at a stretch.

Then, residents say, a HM rebel Shams-u-Din informed the villagers that Manzoor had been killed on the second day of his abduction, and lay buried in Hari-Taar, on the banks of Jehlum near Sopore.

“We rushed to the spot. Some militants from HM were guarding the spot, and they fired on the crowd. People from the surrounding areas like Shah-Gund joined in and we retrieved the body,” adds Kawaam. The eruption of emotions and sentiments was spontaneous. “It was an angry crowd, which sees nothing in rage. On the way from Hari-Taar to Nawabadi Mohalla, around 14 houses belonging to Jamat-e-Islami (JeI) members or sympathisers were burned,” adds Kamaal. “It was a day which this region can not forget. It was a day of pain.”

After this the rift between JKLF and HM-JeI deepened. A civil war sort of situation ensued where people from both sides were being assassinated. The Nawabadis became fiercely anti-HM and anti-Jamaat. “In all this all the militant organisations united against HM, and opened a united front against them,” he says.

Peer Ziya-ud-Din of Asham, a JKLF sympathiser and father of Nazir Ahmad Geelani of JKLF was also gunned down by HM. This added oil to the fire. Around 500-600 people would die in this infighting, many among them were civilians.

It was around this time that 28 militants surrendered, and under the leadership of Kuka Parray formed the renegade Ikhwan. Fayaz, now released, joined the Ikwan, and with the wounds of Manzoor’s loss still fresh, many Nawabadis followed him into the fold. “When we had seen the body of Manzoor, we could see nothing else. He had come out for the cause. We had followed in his footsteps, but Jamaat and Hizbul mujahideen ruined it. They targeted everyone who was not their supporter. We could tolerate it no further,” says an ex-counter insurgent.

Fayaz was merciless. He soon gained notoriety and was gifted the post of commander-in-chief of the Ikhwan. Kuka Parray reigned as the supremo. Thus started the reign of terror. After that it was “catch and kill,” accepts Kawaam.

Though the actual gun wielding Nawabdis did not number more than 10, all the counter insurgents in Valley - estimated to be between 1,000-1,200- came to be known by the name.

The shifting allegiances of Nawabadis created animosities with adjoining villages. Residents recall that after Manzoor’s death the adjoining villages in Safapora and Bandipora enforced a boycott of the village.

“The shopkeepers won’t provide us amenities. We were not given medicines even for around six months,” says a Nawabadi resident.

Mohammad Sidiq, father of Fayaz Nawabadi says the boycott forced them to loot any trucks that passed the village. “But we would pay them,” he said in the same breath.

In coming years, the response from the Nawabadis was often brutal. Fayaz Nawabadi walked the streets like a king.

“Even policemen had to look down while walking past him,” says a resident of Ganderbal.

He was the most notorious export of Nawabadi Mohallah to the rest of Kashmir. The Commander-in-Chief of Kuka Parray’s Ikhwan, he is said to have killed hundreds of people. “If his eyes fell on something he liked, it had to be his,” the resident adds. One day his eyes fell on a new scooter parked in the Safapora market. The scooter belonged to Waseem, a 21 year old.

“Waseem would not just let go of his new scooter when the Nawabadis asked him to give it to them,” says the resident. Fayaz then walked up to him, and held him by his throat. He then pumped bullets into him. Waseem fell to ground. When a shopkeeper raised his voice, he too met the same fate. One more onlooker also fell to the ground. “Three innocent people died that day,” adds the resident. With three dead bodies on the streets Fayaz issued his threat, “People of Safapora, whosever goes against us will meet a similar fate,” he says.

Fayaz would be accompanied by his trusted lieutenants, Abdul Hamid Mir alias Nikka Bhai, Mohammad Afzal Mir alias Commander Adil, Ghulam Nabi Mir alias Kaka among others, all Nawabadis. They reign of terror engulfed Sonawari, Safapora, Ganderbal areas. Hardly anyone was spared, but the families of militants and Jamat-e-Islami supporters were especially targeted. It started a wave of migration from the area to the urban areas. Many people even left the state. “No one was safe,” says the resident. The killings continued.Saif-u-Din Bhat, a 60-years-old teacher from Safapora was killed because his brother was associated with HM. Another teacher Abdul Karim Bhat was killed because of links with Jamat-e-Islami. A bank employee, Mohammad Afzal of Yongoora Chak also fell to bullets, for unknown reasons. The number is estimated to be above 300. Some locals say the number of the people killed was much higher than 300. “Many deaths were never reported. Many of these will never be known,” the resident adds.

Nawabadis once went to the house of a Jamaat-e-Islami sympathiser in Banyari village. The man was not there. “The routine would have been to harass the family and leave,” says Yasir, a resident of the area. But on this day death was in the air. “One of the Nawabadi commanders caught hold of a six month old son of the man,” he says. Then hell broke loose. “He flung the child into the air, and the Nawabadi party started firing.” The infant came down in smithereens. “I can not forget that day,” says Yasir, “there are no words to express this cruelty.”

Tales of the atrocities abound. “One more case still resonates in the minds and hearts of people. It always gives me pain,” says Yasir as he recalls. “There was a girl in Asham, a beautiful girl, Nazima, the daughter of one Ghulam Mohammad Lone. And then their eyes fell on her,” he says.

Nazima was kidnapped and raped. “For days together no one knew of her,” he recalls. Then details related to her emerged. It was Fayaz actually who had sought her. When she had resisted she was raped, by many Nawabadis, says Yasir. They raped her for days. She became pregnant. After a few months she was let go.
In the meantime, Ashraf Nawabidi, Fayaz’s brother started pursuing Nazima’s sister. She too was kidnapped.

“The family would not have protested if they would have known what was to come next,” says Yasir. The Nawabadis converged on the Asham market. Nazima was dragged out on the street. Fayaz oversaw everything. “What transpired next is engraved in the psyche of the people there forever,” says Yasir.

The eight month pregnant woman was held forcibly. Then her clothes were torn. After this she was paraded naked. “Fayaz pulled the trigger, and shot her in the abdomen first. He kept on shooting and shouting - see the result,” recalls Yasir. Nazima died on the spot. Her sister is still with Ashraf.

Even after an incident of this sort, no one raised a voice. That was the peak of Nawabadi terror. “But nothing is permanent. Whatever goes up, has to come down,” says Yasir. Most of the Nawabadis met cruel deaths. Kaka was shot dead in 1994, Nikka Bhai was killed in 1995, Afzal in 1996. The kingpin, Fayaz after surviving 18 attempts on life finally met his fate on Feb 17, 2000. He was blown up in an IED blast in Sumbal, just a few kilometres away from where he had shot Nazima. According to locals the intensity of the blast was such that his body parts could be seen hanging from the power supply wires. Many people believe that he was killed by his own people - the Ikhwanis.

Fayaz Nawabadi is considered a martyr and a hero in his village. So are the other Nawabadis killed in these years. Their graveyard reads Mazar-e-Shohada. Fayaz’s grave is decorated and fenced. It lies on way to the shrine of a saint in the mohalla, called Sayeed Sahib. A stone throw’s distance from the graveyard is a model school. His house has a 12 foot high wall topped by barbed wire. He is survived by two wives and four children. “Similar is the case for many others too,” says Afzal, a government employee who was assigned a task in the area. For him too the visit was painful. His best friend had been killed by Fayaz. “I tried to skip the area, but I had to do my job,” he says.While walking through the village he saw a man walking behind him. Initially he became suspicious. Then when he finally gathered the courage to ask the person as to why he was following him, he came to know that he had no job or work to do. The reply startled him. The man had identified himself as an ex-counter insurgent, some of the few who had survived. He did not venture out of the village, out the fear.
“Even though almost all the notorious Nawabadis were killed, the people of the surrounding areas can not forget the mayhem inflicted by them,” says Afzal, who happened to meet a relative of Waseem on return from the mohalla. Their response was, “There is no question of forgiveness. Even if they repent it, nothing is going to change. There can be no forgiveness.”

Ejaz from Safapora echoes similar sentiments. “We cannot forget what Nawabadis have done to us. They are traitors. There is no question of having any sort of relation with them. They are still like that only,” he says.

However, the residents of the Nawabdi Mohallah insist they want to stay aloof of politics.

“We want to be away from politics,” says Mohammad Kamaal Mir, a resident of Nawabadi Mohalla, “We have already suffered a lot. Now we want to be away from all this. We also have same aspirations like all other Kashmiris, and our children like others too also cheer for the Pakistani cricket team. But we are silent spectators. We will not repeat our mistakes again now.”

The residents of the area are self confessed supporters of National Conference. “It is we who made (Mohammed) Akbar Lone successful in Sumbal,” says Kawaam Din. He further adds, “(Mohammed) Akbar Lone is the most honest politician in all of Kashmir, and he is an ideal for all the politicians.” They credit him for most of the development work in the village, including the street lights and the tube wells.

“We were even approached by the opposition parties with an offer of 40,000 rupees to vote for them, which we out rightly rejected,” say Kawaam. According to him recently when they had gone to meet Lone, he gave their issues precedence over all the other works on hand. “He even sent prayers on Fayaz and recalled how he had saved him when once Kuka Parray had grabbed his collar to beat him.”

“It is us who voted against Kuka Parray. We made him fall. He did no development work here,” says Sidiq Mir, father of Fayaz. He describes Kuka Parray as a fool who was made the king. “If he would have been in Srinagar he would have been taken to a mental hospital,” he remarks.

Narrating an incident when he had rebuked Kuka Parray for letting his brother go on a looting spree all over the area, Sidiq says, “I told him that his brother was like a wild bull that was going wild throughout the area and causing damage and action should be taken against him.” Later Kuka Parray according to him called him privately and told him that he should not have said this in front of everyone.

When Fayaz’s father, an employee of the cattle farm operated by SKAUST in the vicinity was about to retire, he was put under suspension. So his pension was automatically stopped. He attributes the development to Kuka Parray. At this time, Fayaz was among his main men. The issue was finally resolved when some politicians close to both the sides intervened.

Mehraj, a resident of Ganderbal was a child when the Nawabadis were at the peak of their power. He remembers a day when Nawabadis converged on his village, and cut down all the willow and poplar trees on the government land. “They sold it to their own friends at the cheapest possible rates,” he says adding that the fear was such that no government official either resisted or complained of the incident. Such was the case with all of the area. “They even cut trees in the Jarokha Bagh,” says Yasin another resident of the area, “Loot was a common thing with Nawabadis those days.”

Yasir says, “Any vehicle which plied from the area was looted. People would think twice before passing through the area dominated by renegades.” Sidiq accepts. “The people from the surrounding areas on the directives of militants had imposed a blockade on us. So we had no option left but to loot for survival.” But according to Gulzar from Sumbal, “Nawabadis have always had a bad image in the area. They were involved in thefts and robberies before they became associated with counter-insurgency. After that they would carry out their activities openly. Extortion became their main business.”

With Fayaz’s death, Nawabadi mohalla’s power waned. The village elders approached other surrounding areas, with a message of reconciliation. But they have met little success. The scars ran deep.

When the Northern Command chief visited the area, post counter-insurgency, Nawabadis too were invited. “I stood up and asked them that what had the Government of India done for us,” says Kawaam. “I asked them what had they paid the families of the soldiers who had been martyred in Kargil, and in relation to them we were paid nothing. I told them that India has not paid us a penny.”

Despite fighting a bloody war for the state, Nawbadis say they were neglected. Many of them, say, all they got from their haunting past were dead bodies.
“If I had been in some position then, and could think the way I do today, I would not have let these things to happen,” says Kamaal.

However, Kamaal maintains they do not face any social ostracism today, and are well heard in corridors of power. “We have good relations with people of other village, even among from people of Jamaat. We are invited in their functions,” says Kamaal.

But still the villagers want to get rid of the baggage their village name carries.

They expect Mirabad to conceal their identity, and bring them back into the fold of the society. Travelling around with a identity card bearing the name of the village may not be wise option always, they admit.

“Nawabadi has now become associated with us. It is a sort of stigma. Wherever we go, people see us in a particular image. With the name change we hope things may get better,” say the Nawabadis.

The story of Nawabadi Mohalla is the story of a village which switched sides en-masse. It tasted power, and wealth, until the downfall started. Now it is trying hard to merge back with the society it stood against. But neither the society, nor the village seems to have made its mind fully.

Some names have been changed on request.

Kashmir Life (http://bit.ly/dtCJRo)

The Rape of Loura Jane

2010-12-17T11:25:00.003+05:00

She had arrived in Srinagar on October 7th, 1990, from a trip to Ladakh and was lodged in a houseboat on the banks of Dal Lake along with her three friends. Little did she know of the fate that awaited her in Srinagar.

Born in 1966, 24-year old Miss Loura Jane Lambie, a Canadian agricultural science student was on a stroll on October 11th on the boulevard in Srinagar when it was just getting towards darkness. Near the Centaur Hotel, she was having a chat with three local boys asking them about what was going on in Kashmir and was immediately waylaid by personnel of the Indian National Security Guards (MSG) traveling in a white Maruti van. They were armed with automatic weapons and were also carrying a walkie talkie with them. One of them, tall but slim, warned Loura not to get into conversation with local Muslim youths, "All of them are very dangerous terrorists and can also molest you at this desolate spot", he told her.

When the guards asked as to whom she was, she replied, "A Canadian". "You shall have to accompany us to the police station," and thus Loura was asked to board the vehicle. Instead of any police station, Loura was taken to the Oberoi Palace Hotel where the guards had a drink from their own bottles because the bar in the Hotel was closed. She did not drink though she was invited to do so. The guards then ordered her to go back to the houseboat at that late hour, for the Kashmiri militants could kill her at any spot. The guards also took away her purse. Loura was taken to a garden near Chasma Shahi. It was 1am on October 12.

One of the guards directed loura to undress but she did not oblige. Her clothes were then torn and she was laid on the ground and gang raped. She cried under the open sky but there was no one to listen to her moans and shrieks except the sleeping state governor, Girish Saxena, in Raj Bhavan, which is situated only a few hundred yards from the scene of the incident. For a change, Loura was taken to another adjacent garden and the gang rape by five guards of the helpless victim continued. Finally, she fell unconscious.

A semi-conscious Loura was then dropped on the roadside, at a slight distance away from where she had been picked up the previous evening. On being sighted by the locals, she was carried to the police station at Nehru Park where a case for kidnapping and rape was registered under sections 366 and 376 of the Ranbir Penal Code under First Information Report No. 90/40. The police officers at the station recommended a medical examination of the victim and Loura was taken to Lal Ded Women's hospital in Srinagar."All Indian men are scoundrels, I'll not permit you to examine me", - Loura shouted at the male doctor in the hospital. Two female doctors then examined her ascertaining that dead sperms were found in her uterus and in the passage leading to it. There were scratches on her thighs, arms and breasts, which only testify that she resisted.

Loura Jane Lambie told pressmen that very day how brutally "security" guards raped her. The matter when brought to the higher authorities in the state and also when it was taken up with the government of India by the Canadian High Commission in New Dehli, the state police registered a case against the guards, arresting two of them whom Loura had conveniently identified in a batch of sixty-four guards paraded before her. She recognized them despite the fact that both of them had shaved off their beards.Loura was kept in protective custody by the state authorities and was allowed an interview with the state governor on October 13 who promised that stern action would be taken against the guards-turned-rapists.The authorities acted swiftly in view of the Canadian government taking a serious notice of the incident and it was in a record time that an inquiry was conducted and culprits punished.
But they were Left Free after some time.

Here lies the difference between the rape of a foreigner and that of a Muslim Kashmiri woman. The latter is treated as an allegation and passes off unnoticed and unwept.

SOURCE:Weekly Takbeer, Srinagar, October 31st, 1990

"..I was like a football. Then they started kicking me and beating me with lathis"

2010-12-15T09:49:00.008+05:00

Ruhaan, a human rights activist, has been arrested three times since November 1995 and detained for periods of a few days during which he was badly tortured. He has never been charged or tried. On all three occasions he was accused of helping the militancy in some way. During his interrogations he was frequently questioned about his human rights work. (Name of The Victim has been changed to Ruhaan)

Ruhaan was first arrested on November 2, 1995. He was held for five days by the BSF before a screening committee consented to his release. The second time was on May 19, 1996, just days before the first round of national parliamentary elections. He was arrested at 9:00 p.m. by Major Raju of the 7th Jat Regiment of the army, an officer well known in the neighborhood, and questioned about acquaintances who were known to be activists. Ruhaan was taken to a temporary army camp at Bagat-i-Kanapori in Srinagar and questioned about his links to the militant groups. He was also questioned about his human rights activities, his contact with Hurriyat leaders, and about the election boycott supported by the Hurriyat. The next day, the major, accompanied by his commanding officer, repeated the questions and then threatened Ruhaan with force if he did not cooperate. They left and then returned after an hour, when they repeated the same questions. Then they ordered their men to use force. RUHAAN described what happened next:

I was taken by the major and four subordinates to a small room, four by six feet, possibly a bathroom, with marble tiles on the floor and the walls. They stripped me down except for my underwear, and tied my hands and legs. They took a thick wooden roller and placed it under my knees as I was sitting. Then they told me to put my arms underneath the roller and up, and they tied my hands above my legs. I was like a football. Then they started kicking me and beating me with lathis [truncheons]. Then they began repeating those same questions. They got very frustrated, because I wasn't telling them anything I hadn't already told them. They also asked me: "How many Afghanis are in your home? Which militant leaders do you know?" Then they put a cloth in my mouth and spread another cloth over my face. I was lying on the floor facing the ceiling. They poured water into a bucket and then they poured the bucket out over my face. The water went into my nostrils, completely choking me. I was desperate to get out of that situation. I lost consciousness. When I came to, they were saying: "Now tell the truth! Cooperate!" I told them I would, so they gave me a few minutes to recover, but then the thing repeated itself. Again I lost consciousness; perhaps this was a longer spell, I'm not sure, but when I came to, I was exhausted. The major was patting my cheeks and saying my name. At first I couldn't recognize him. Then the major signalled for someone to come, and he brought a small magnet-type telephone box: when you turn the crank, a current shoots through the wires. They attached one wire to my left earlobe and the other to different places: one of my toes, my other ear, and my penis. They ran the current, and I lost consciousness again. When I came to, I noticed that my whole body was wet: I had urinated and defecated. I was taken to a bathroom outside the house, was given a bucket of water and told to clean myself up. I couldn't stand or stretch my arms. They helped me do some exercises for about two hours, and then I was able to stand up again and sit.

That night Ruhaan 's interrogators permitted a friend of his to come see him. After that, the major again told Ruhaan to come work for the army and stop his other activities. The next morning RUHAAN was taken to some other officials with one of the intelligence agencies. He was taken to the headquarters of the Jat Regiment. The commanding officer, Colonel Sharma, lectured him for an hour about the need to work for the army. When he was released on May 21 he was told to report to the camp every third day. He did so for about six weeks, and each time he was questioned again about his activities. After that, he received permission from Colonel Sharma not to report to the camp.

Ruhaan was detained for a third time in February 1998. At midnight on the night of February 2, fifteen to twenty members of the Special Operations Group (SOG), a police unit, came to his house, accompanied by some officers, escorted by the CRPF, and some intelligence people in military clothes. They searched the house and took all of his copies of human rights reports and some religious books. They took RUHAAN to SOG headquarters in Srinagar, where he was kept for the night. Ruhaan stated:

Then the torture started. They didn't tie me, but they rolled a big wooden roller over my leg muscles as I was lying down, and they passed electricity through me-one wire attached to a toe, the other to my penis-while they were questioning me. They asked me about my links with Asia Watch and Amnesty International. I told them everything I had done and who I had been in touch with, because this is my work. This was the first time I have ever heard of a person being tortured in front of a senior police officer. They also beat me. The next day I was taken into interrogation in one of the rooms by a junior police officer. He pointed his revolver at my temple and threatened to kill me. He asked me about my links to the militants: "Give me the weapons! Give me the wireless set!" I was beaten with lathis and kicked and punched. Then they hung me from the ceiling. They tied my hands behind my back with a rope, they put the rope through a pulley in the ceiling, and then they pulled the table on which I was standing out from underneath me. Then they used electricity as I was hanging. They did this four times; the fourth time I lost consciousness. When I came to, I was on the floor. I couldn't move my arms, which were behind my back, so two policemen kicked my back to get me to move my arms. Then they returned me to my cell. The next day the torture was lighter. They used the roller on my thighs, and they punched me and threatened me with a pistol, and they told me: "Unless you tell us something about your involvement, you will not get out of here." I gave them the names of all the militants I knew, and told them anything else I knew: the connections I had with human rights people, etc. This situation continued for ten days.

After that, Ruhaan was held for an additional five days during which he was lectured not to continue his human rights activities. He was then transferred to a police station where an FIR was registered against him charging him with propagation against the state of India because of his human rights work. The next day he was granted bail, but he was not physically released that day. The SOG had recommended that Ruhaan be held under the Public Safety Act, a preventive detention law that permits detention without trial for two years, but the senior state police officer cleared the bail order, and Ruhaan was released on February 25. Under the bail order, Ruhaan was required to remain in Srinagar.

(Annual Report of UN Human Rights 1 July 1999)

"...I recited verses from the Quran loudly. Then he opened fire"

2010-12-15T09:30:00.002+05:00

On December 8, 1995, Zafar Mehraj, a veteran Kashmiri journalist, was shot and critically injured as he returned from an interview with Koko Parray, the head of the state-sponsored paramilitary group Ikhwan-ul Muslimoon, at Parray's headquarters in Hajan, a small town fifty kilometers from Srinagar. Mehraj, forty-three, was working for Zee television, an independent television corporation. He had previously been threatened by both the security forces, who suspected him because of his ties to militant group and his travel in Pakistan,and some militant groups who resented his contacts with Indian officials. Although the identity of the gunmen who shot him may never be known, the evidence strongly suggests the involvement of state-sponsored militia forces.

The interview with Koko Parray had originally been scheduled for November 26, but Parray would not meet with them then and told them to return on December 8. That day the Huriyat had called a general strike, but the press was free to travel. During the interview Parray met with one of his men for fifteen minutes. After the interview, the journalists declined lunch and left at 12:45 pm When they reached the village of Shaltang, nine kilometers north of Srinagar, they saw a cream colored Ambassador car with its hood up and a man looking inside. As they drove by, the man held up an AK-47 rifle and ordered the journalists to stop. With the man were two other men, all wearing scarves covering their faces and carrying AK-47s. One of them approached the front seat and asked, “What are you doing?” When told that they were journalists, he said, "You were meeting with that bastard, Koko Parray, bloody informer. We are from Hezb-ul Mujahidin." Then the two men went to the back seat window and asked, "You are Zafar Mehraj?" After Mehraj had identified himself, they asked him who he had been to see. When he said he had interviewed Koko Parray, the men ordered him to come with him. Mehraj did not move, so the man pulled him out forcibly.

When one of the other journalists tried to get out, and the same man pointed his AK-47 and said, "If you come out, I'll shoot you. You can move from here after one hour." He was speaking with an unusual accent; he was not from Srinagar. The men put Mehraj in the Ambassador car and drove away. Mehraj described what happened next:

They pushed me into a cab and took my wristwatch and cash, about Rs. 2-3000. [US $57-85] It was snowing hard. They drove for a while. Then at some point they said, "We are with Parray. Are you a journalist?" I said that I was. Then they said, "Oh , we thought you belonged to Jamaat-e Islami. We're sorry. We will let you go." I told them to stop and let me go, but they said, "No we'll leave you where you'll get transport." After that they removed their kerchiefs. At some point I noticed a minibus behind our taxi. The car stopped. The Matador minibus stopped on the other side of the road. They told me that the minibus contained their own "boys" and said they were going to Srinagar and could take me home. They told me to get down from the taxi. I did and as I walked across the road from the taxi to the bus, one of the boys from the bus, who was standing on the road, shouted at me, “Hey! Where are you going?” I turned and saw him take out his Kalashnikov to fire at me. I could see him shivering - he was young, in his early teens. I recited verses from the Quran loudly. Then he opened fire.

Three bullets hit Mehraj. One caused a superficial wound; one entered his left upper back and exited the right upper back; one entered his left upper stomach and exited his right upper stomach. Two or three minutes after Mehraj had fallen to the ground, he heard the taxi and minibus leave together. He tried to wave down passing vehicles, but several passed him before a truck finally stopped. The driver told him that he could not risk his life by helping him, but if Mehraj could climb into the back of the truck by himself, the driver would take him to a place where he could get a lift to a hospital. Mehraj climbed into the truck, and the driver drove approximately ten kilometers to a small market town where Mehraj saw a police constable. Mehraj got out of the truck and told the constable that he had been shot. The constable told him to take a motorcycle taxi to the hospital.

I asked two or three drivers to take me to the hospital but they all refused. Finally I begged a driver on the other side of the road. I said, I have old parents and one young child. Please help me. He told me, "Don't make any noise. Get inside calmly." He took me to Srinagar SMHS hospital, not by the main road but by the back roads. I walked into the emergency room.

Mehraj's transverse colon had been shattered, and he had suffered multiple small intestine injuries. He stayed at the SMHS hospital in Srinagar for five days and was then transferred to an army hospital for two days because the authorities told him that the militants were roaming around SHMS freely. In fact, at the time that Mehraj was being treated there, the SMHS hospital was being patrolled by Ikhwan forces. On December 15, he was transferred to the All-India Institute for Medical Sciences in New Delhi.

After Mehraj had been abducted, the journalists who were with him waited in the car for ten minutes. During that time, two boys came by on their way to a nearby mosque; they were about twelve and sixteen years old.

They spoke Kashmiri. They asked why our friend had been kidnaped. When we said we don't know, they said they were from Hezb-ul Mujahidin. They both laughed and said, "Come on - Hezb-ul Mujahidin can't come here. There have been no militants here for six months. Those guys were Ikhwan - Ikhwan controls this area. Then they walked on to the mosque.

Shortly after that the journalists told the driver to go to Srinagar.

They had driven two kilometers from the spot where Mehraj was taken and arrived at the Hindustan Machine Tools (HMT) crossing - a major industrial area. Seeing open shops, one of the journalists decided to stop and ask if any of the shop owners had seen the kidnapers car - a cream-colored Ambassador without license plates. One of shop owners said that ten minutes earlier he had seen a car matching the description headed toward Srinagar. As the journalist walked out of the shop, he saw the kidnapper's car and the kidnaper who had done the talking during the incident. He told the driver to follow the car, which was headed from Srinagar toward Baramulla.

The journalists followed the car for five or six kilometers, when the kidnapers car stopped. The journalists parked fifty meters behind them. The kidnaper came up to the car and said, "I told you to wait an hour. Why are you chasing us?"

When the driver asked, "What have we done?" the kidnapper struck him in the face. When one of the journalists got out of the car, the kidnapper said, "Look, bastard, the army is coming. Go away."

At that moment, four army trucks filled with soldiers drove down the road - the national highway - from Baramulla toward Srinagar. The trucks passed right by them without stopping even though the kidnaper was standing in the middle of the road with an AK-47 slung over his shoulder, and the two other kidnapers were standing near their car with AK-47s clearly visible in their hands.

At that point, the journalist got back in the car. He told Human Rights Watch/Asia, "I realized that they were renegades, so we drove away to Srinagar."

Four or five days after the kidnaping, a correspondent for the Kashmir Times received a call from a man who identified himself as Ikhwan-ul Muslimoon, and said that the correspondent must come to Sonwar, an Ikhwan camp two kilometers from Srinagar, and that if he did not, "We'll do the same thing to you that we did to Zafar Mehraj." The correspondent did not go; he left Srinagar for Delhi.

On May 6, the Home Ministry informed ASIA WATCH that Mehraj had been returning from an interview with “the chief of a militant outfit,” and that while the incident was still under police investigation, it was “believed that [Mehraj] has been the victim of inter gang rivalry.”(the phrase “intergang rivalry” is frequently used by the government to downplay abuses by state-sponsored militias.)

"Yasmeena was raped thrice in a Single night by these bastards"

2010-11-30T15:37:00.002+05:00

The Heir of the Kashmir Conflict. Shahid Nabi writes his ordeal of living in the horrendous years in his hometown Sopore, which even today is the bastion of Freedom Activities in Kashmir.

The night was not peaceful but it was good, in the morning I woke up and saw that the whole compound of my home has turned into a sea of blood. I cried as much as I could. I called for help, but none came to my rescue. I stepped forward like a paralysed person as I found my dearest Sons and Daughters slaughtered. It was a case of indiscriminate massacre. Yes, the only way to help myself at that time was to shed tears, tears, tears, tears, tears, ……….. I was lost in tears. The cold blooded murderers said that they have massacred seventy thousand of my beloved sons and daughters, but being the mother I could count them by their names. I knew that I have lost more than one lakh. Still managed strength as it was not new for me, had saw all this happen to my home for more than a sixty years. I arranged for the shroud for my beloved sons, daughters, who were martyred by the ruthless, shameless, beasts, and cowards, (read as Indian security forces). I cremated their remains, but I knew they are not dead, as Allah says in the Quran, “………Count not those who were slain in God’s way as dead, but rather living with their Lord, by Him provided, rejoicing in the bounty that God has given them……..” (Quran 03:164). They are the martyrs, and I am sure their sacrifice won’t go in vain.

There was a temporary period of quiet, but that did not last long. As now again my sons are being martyred every now and then. These military personnel kill them because they are Kashmiri, because they are Muslims, because presence of my sons terrorizes them, because they want freedom, because they want to live the life of tranquillity, because they want dignity, because they don’t want the validation of the killing in the valley, because they want their rights to be given to them, because they want that no pagan should rule the Muslims and many a more. But India won’t listen to them, instead will instruct forces to massacre my children. But my children are not afraid of them. They never were nor will they be in the future. They will fight till their last breath. I know that I don’t have any sort of weapons to give them to fight these cowards. But I am proud to provide them with the only available arsenal of stones to fight the coward beasts with sophisticated guns in their hands, I know they will kill my sons, but they will die to live forever and despatch these security persons to hell to taste the eternal torment.

I know the ghastly views of my beloved sons being martyred and carried in the coffins would never let me sleep again, but the presence of the Indian security forces here had given sleepless nights to my daughters since the night my eight year old daughter “YASMEENA WAS RAPED THRICE IN A SINGLE NIGHT BY THESE BASTARDS”

Sopore and Me were Never Same Again by Shahid Nabi

2010-11-30T15:27:00.003+05:00

I was born in a middle class family in one of the most volatile towns of Kashmir called Sopur. (Also called Sopore Kandahar). It was only couple of years after my birth that armed upheaval against india started in Kashmir (also known as Tehreek). This revolt was against the barbaric, forceful, callous, uncivilised and pitiless occupation of Kashmir by India. This uprising against the illegal occupation of Kashmir by india was not a spur-of-the-moment one. As nothing is spontaneous when it comes to revolt against any deceitful nation. Its seeds are sown deep in the emotions, imaginations, feelings, deeds and hearts of the down trodden. Kashmiri’s were subjugated in every feasible mode by india since 1947. So a volcanic stack was in the making which exploded in the year 1989.

I can still remember those days, though my age was tender, but I can’t stop thinking about those horrendous and dreadful days. The crackdowns, sudden raids (chapp’e), indefinite curfews, blood shed, gun shots, funeral processions, mourning mothers, molested sisters, orphaned brothers, cross firings, houses turned into debris, forsaken corpses of young men, Yes, I could remember all those things. From every nook and corner it smelled of blood. The blood that was of the people I relate with, (they were my brothers and sisters in Islam, the most potent brotherhood). That blood was of the Muslim ummah. After every death, people would come out of their houses with the funeral procession, chanting pro-Islam slogans and pro-freedom slogans. “HUM KYA CHAHETE AAZADI (WE WANT FREEDOM)” and “AAZADI KA MATLAB KYA LA ILAHA ILLAL LA (FREEDOM TO WE MEANS, THERE IS NO GOD BUT ALLAH)” were the most sacrosanct verses after the verses of Holy Quran to the people of Kashmir. Revolutionary songs were being aired on loud speakers in mosques. It was the ardour of Aazadi everywhere, be it a 6 years old child like me (those days) or the 60 years old.

I could still remember that fateful day of 6th Jan 1993, when 57 guiltless Muslims were killed in cold blood by the indian security forces in Sopore. In addition to this, there was also lost of property worth crores of amount. 450 buildings were razed to ground, which included 50 houses and 400 shops. Yes, this obnoxious incident still haunts me in my nightmares. BSF and paramilitary forces went on reprehensible rampage to kill innocent people in Sopore. It was early morning on that fateful Wednesday, when according to government sources some militants killed one BSF personal and took away his LMG (weapon), But after that for about five hours BSF went berserk and killed 57 vulnerable civilians, which till date remains one of the most dreadful bloodbath in Kashmir. On that day, we were locked inside our home, outside my home were people being killed. My uncle escaped a sure death when he along with his aunt was outside to help the wounded. When he peeped on to the main road to see if somebody was trapped there, a bullet was shot at him, but miraculously he was safe. After this berserk killing, BSF sprayed paraffin and gun powder on houses and shops and more than 450 buildings were left to ashes. Those trapped inside shops died in these buildings which were burnt and left to rubble.

It was that day of 6th Jan, which changed the course of time in Sopore. Witnessing the cruel nature of the indian security forces, people of Sopore were taken aback from there deep slumber. Next day curfew was imposed, but it was defied as soon as imposed, people came onto the streets carrying the bodies of their dear ones in caskets to bid last farewell to them. But these pagans showed their infidelity once again and sprayed bullets and tear smoke canisters into the funeral processions. Afterwards all I could hear were the cries of mothers and sisters in every nook and corner. And in no time this woeful state would change into the fervour of Aazadi. The whole air would be engulfed by the slogans of Aazadi and Islam. Its an interesting tale that before I could recite rhymes in the school, these pro-freedom and pro-Islamic slogans had made my mind and heart there permanent place of dwelling.

Now it was the daily routine of ours, I mean (crackdowns, sudden raids, disappearances, beating, looting of property, molestation of our mothers and sisters and all these heart breaking things). I could still remember one incident; it was early in the morning. I had been sleeping at that time, when army came inside out house and said to come out quickly from home and gather inside the Girls Hr Sec School Sopore, as crackdown was going on. I think I was 7 years old at that time. I had been woken by the barking of these army men (they were called Pandra Punjab). I was half asleep and half awoken, when suddenly one army man hit me with the butt of the AK-47 on my shoulder. That hit gave me such a pain, which I beared for about a week. In the place of gathering, one informer (mukhbir) in a mask would make out the militants among us. It is still anonymity to me, whether the informer was one among us or it was just a pre-planned approach to arrest innocents and brand them as terrorist. So it was nothing but harassment for we people everywhere in the Kashmir. Young men were getting killed, arrested, tortured and thrashed. Now we are in the year 2010, but nothing had changed. More than 1 lakh people have been killed since 1989 by indian security forces.

Now the only hope is the Allah, May Allah destroys the indian nation and breaks the chains of illegal occupation of Kashmir by India.

Shed a Tear: A Tribute to The Martyrs of 2010

2010-11-15T19:53:00.010+05:00

"Nobody who enters Paradise will (ever like to) return to this world even if he were offered everything on the surface of the earth (as an inducement) except the martyr who will desire to return to this world and be killed ten times for the sake of the great honour that has been bestowed upon him." (Sahih Muslim)

Kashmir Martyrs 2010

8^th of January, 2010, 16 year old Inayat Ahmad of Dalgate Srinagar was killed in CRPF firing at Budshah Chowk.
31^s^t of Feb,2010,Wamiq Farooq, 13, of Rainawari Srinagar was killed when a teargas shell fired by police hits him on his head
Tufail Ashraf Mattoo, 17, of Saida Kadal killed by police tear gas canister at Gani stadium Rajouri Kadal on June 11.
Muhammad Rafiq Bangroo, 24, of Dana Mazar Safa Kadal beaten by CRPF on June 12 near his residence. He succumbed to injuries on June 20.
Javed Ahmed Malla, 19, of Palpora Noorbagh killed by CRPF or police on June 20 at Waniyar Srinagar.
Aziz Malik of Chuntwari, Machill Kupwara, killed by armed forces on June 20 at Machill sector of LoC.
Mazloom Malik of Chuntwari Kupwara, killed by armed forces on June 20 at Machill sector of LoC.
Firdous Ahmed Kakroo, 16 of Niglee Sopore, Baramulla killed by CRPF on June 25 near Jamia Qadeem in Sopore.
Shakeel Ahmed Ganai, 24 of Lalad Sopore killed by 177 batallion of CRPF at Chankhan Sopore.
Bilal Ahmed Wani, 22, of Kraltaeng Sopore, killed by CRPF bullet in Kraltaeng on June 27.
Tajamul Bashir Bhat, 17, of Wadoora Sopore, killed by CRPF or SOG at Kapra Cinema in Sopore outside headquaters of 92 battalion of CRPF.
Tauqeer (Asif) Ahmed Rather, 09, of Rather Muhalla of Delina, Baramullah, killed by CRPF on June 28.
.Ishtiyaq Ahmed Khanday, 15, of SK Colony, Islamabad, killed by police on June 29.
.Imtiyaz Ahmed Ittoo, 17, of Watergam Dailgam Islamabad, killed by police in SK Colony Islamabad on June 29.
Shuja'at ul Islam, 17 of Anchidora Islamabad, killed by police at SK Colony Islamabad on June 29.
Muzaffar Ahmed Bhat, 17, of Gangbug, Batamaloo, and body recovered from Doodh Ganga Nallah in Baramullah on June 06 alegedly arrested by CRPF on July 05 and tortured to death.
Fayaz Ahmed Wani, 24, of Gangbug Batamaloo, killed by CRPF or police firing at Batamaloo on July 06
Yasmeen Jan, 25, of Lashmanpora Danderkha, Batamaloo, killed by CRPF/police firing at her residence in Danderkhah on July 06.
Abrar Ahmed Khan, 16 of Maisuma Bund killed alegedly by police CRPF firing at Maisuma on July 06.
Faizaan Ahmed Bhuhroo, 13, of Jalal Sahib Baramulla, died by drowning after SOG men were trying to arrest him on July 17.
Fayaz Ahmed Khanday, 23, of Binner Baramulla, killed by CRPF in Baramulla.
Tariq Ahmed Dar, 17 of Panzala, Rafiabad, Baramulla, killed in police custody on July 25.
Muhammad Ahsan Ganai, 45 of Amargarh Sopore killed by CRPF at Krankshivan Colony on July 30.
Showkat Ahmed Chopan, 17, of Amargarh Sopore killed at Kranshivan Colony on Juky 30.
Adil Ramzaan Sheikh, 13 of Pattan killed by CRPF at Pattan on july 30.
Nazir Ahmed Mir, 23, of Sheeri Baramulla killed by CRPF at Pattan on July 30.
Javid Ahmed Teli, 20, of Bungalbagh Baramulla, killed by SOG at Cement Bridge Baramulla on July 31.
Mudassir Ahmed Lone, 17, of Herpora Naidkhai, Sumbal killed by CRPF/police at IRP camp in Naidkhai on July 31.
Nayeem Ahmed Shah, 20 of Pampore killed by CRPF at Pampore on August 01
Rayees Ahmed Wani, 18 of pampore killed by CRPF at Pampore on August 01.
Afrooza Teli of Khrew of Pampore killed by CRPF at her residence on August 01.
Javed Ahmed Sheikh, 18 of Wuyen Pampore killed in blast in police station at Khrew on August 01.
Muhammad Amin Lone, 22 of Shalnag Khrew killed in blast in police station at Krew on August 01.
Basharat Ahmed Reshi, 14 of Wachi Sangam killed by police near his residence on August 02.
Irshad Ahmed Bhat, 17 of Reshipora, Sangam tortured and killed alegedly by CRPF and police on August 02.
Ashiq Hussain Bhat, 15, of Kulgam Islamabad killed by CRPF at Chawalgam on August 02.
Rameez Ahmed Bhat, 16, of Kulgam killed by CRPF at Kulgam on August 02.
Hafiz Muhammad Yaqoob Bhat, 22 of Zadoora Kakapora Pulwama killed by CRPF at Kakpora on August 02.
Tariq Ahmed Dar, 17 of Semthan Bijbehara wounded by CRPF on August 01 and succumbed to injuries on August 02.
Khursheed Ahmed War, 27, of Shumnag Kralpora Kupwara killed by CRPF at Khuzunmati bridge near Kralpora on August 02.
Sameer Ahmed Rah, 09 of Batamaloo Srinagar killed by CRPF at Batamaloo on August 02.
Mehraj ud din Lone, 23 of Barthana Qamarwai killed by CRPF at Qamarwari police station on August 03.
Anis Ahmed Ganai, 17, of Dangerpora Narwara killed by CRPF at Eidgah on August 03.
Suhail Ahmed Dar, 15, of Zainakote Srinagar killed by CRPF at Parimpora on August 03.
Jehangir Ahmed Bhat, 23, of Chenigam Yaripora killed by CRPF at Kulgam on August 03.
Riyaz Ahmed Bhat, 25 of Khrew injured by CRPF at Khrew on August succumbed to injuries on August 03.
Muhammad Yaqoob Bhat, 20 of Nund Reshi Colony Bemina, killed by CRPF at Bemina on August 04.
Muhammad Iqbal Khan, 22 of Lone Muhalla Chanapora injured by CRPF on July 30 at Chanapora succumbed to injuries on August 04.
Shabir Ahmed Malik, 30 of Lonepora Newa Pulwama, killed by CRPF at Pulwama on August 04.
Ghulam Nabi Badyari, 48 of Ganpatyar, Habba Kadal, killed by CRPF at his residence on August 05.
Rameez Ahmed, 22, of Mundji Sopore killed by CRPF at Warpora on August 06.
Aisha Sheikh of Ganpatyar Habba Kadal succumbed to sling shot injury at her residence on August 07.
Fida Nabi Lone, 20, of Qamarwari, injured in CRPF action at Qamarwari on August 03 and succumbed to injuries on August 08.
Farrukh Bukhari, 19, of Kreeri Pattan whose body was found at Kreeri on August 11 after 13 days of his disappearance.
Mudasir Ahmad Zargar, 16, of Trehgam Kupwara, killed in police and CRPF firing on August 13.
Ali Mohammad Khanday, 60, of Khanday Mohalla Pattan, killed in police and CRPF firing on August 13.
Arif Mir, 19, of Lagropora, Sopore killed in CRPF firing on August 13.
Sameer Lone, 18, of Lagropora, Sopore killed in CRPF firing on August 13
Irshad Ahmad Latoo, 35, of S K Colony Islamabad killed by police and paramilitary CRPF troopers on 14th August
Umar Ahmad Dar, 16, of Narbal Srinagar killed by CRPF on 14th August
Muhammad Abbas Dhobi, 30, of Mattan Islamabad beaten up by police and CRPF succumbed on 17th August.
Milat Ahmad Dar An eight-year-old boy of Harnag , Islambad, injured and later succumbed on 19th August. He was critically injured by paramilitary forces while playing in a field.
Mudasir Ahmed Hajam, 19, Sopore, sustained bullet injury on 19th Aug by CRPF and succumbed on 20th August morning.
Nazir Ahmed Sheikh, 25, Bijbehara in South Kashmir’s Islamabad district. Fired by CRPF on 20th August died on way to hospital.
Bilal Ahmad Sheikh, 22 year old, succumbed to his injuries on 23rd Aug was seriously injured on 14 August. A resident of Singhpora Pattan.
Omar Qayooom Bhat, 17 year old. Of Anchar Soura. Ruthlessly beaten by paramilitary CRPF troopers and police on 20th August. Admitted in Hospital on 23rd August after his release and Succumbed on 25th August.
Irshad Ahmad Parray, 11, Old Eidgah Islamabad, sustained pellet injuries in his vital organs and succumbed on his way to hospital on August 30.
Feroz Ahmad Malik, 17, Palhalan Pattan, fired by cops on 6th September and brought dead to sub
Mudasir Ahmad Mir, 23, Ussan Pattan, fired by cops on 6th september scummbed to his injuries on way
Noorudin Tantray, 26, Tantrypora Pattan, fired by cops on 6th september and scummbed to his injuries on way to hospital.
Muhammad Ramzan Mir, 45, Ussan Pattan, fired by cops on 6th september and scummbed to his injuries on way to hospital. It was fourth killing on 6th September.
Imran Ahmad Dar, 25, Zadibal, crtically injured by CRPF on 2nd Septemeber scummbed on 8th Septemeber at Soura Hospital.
Ghulam Muhammad Guroo, 55, maloora Khujibagh Sumbal, received head injury in clashes on 8th September and scummbed on 9th Septemeber at Soura hospital.
Muhammad Ashraf Mir,34, Palhallan Pattan, Sustained critical injuries in neck in indiscriminate firing by police on 6th September and scummbbed to his injuries at Soura hospital on 12th September.
Nisar Ahmad Bhat, Ajas Bandipora, fired upon by Border Security Force (BSF) killing him onspot on 13th September.
Nisar Ahmad Kuchay,22, Humhama , Fired upon by police injuring him critically. Taken to Soura hospital where he succumbs after few hours on 13th September.
Ghulam Rasool Tantray, 50, sustained bullet injuries at Humhama on 13th September sccumbs on the same day at Soura hospital.
Danish Nabi, 13, Charar-i-Sharief, was killed in CRPF firing near Hanwari near Char town on Sep 13. He was a seventh class student.
Mudasir Ahmad Parray, Kreshama Tangmarg, Killed in Police and CRPF firing on Sep 13.
Tariq Ahmad Ganai, Tillegam Tangmarg, Killed in Police and CRPF firing on Sep 13.
Abdul Majid Kuzzar, Bonegam Kunzer, killed in Police and CRPF firing on Sep 13 in Tangmarg north Kashmir.
Iqbal Ahmad Malik, Tumberhama Tangmarg, Killed when CRPF and Police opened fire on people on Sep 13.
Abdul Qayoom Wani, Waniloo Tangmarg, Killed in Police and CRPF firing on Sep 13.
Afaq Ahmad Khan, Iqbal Colony Tangmarg, Killed in Police and CRPF firing on Sep 13.
Javaid Ahmad Rather, 24, Kadalbal Pampore, Killed in Police and CRPF firing on Sep 13.
Ajaz Ahmad Wagay, 26, Kadalbal Pampore, Killed in Police and CRPF firing on Sep 13.
Riyaz Ahmad Sheikh, 28, Tengan pampore, Killed in Police and CRPF firing on sep 13.
Javaid Ahmad Teli, Humhama, Killed by troopers and Polce firing on Sep 13.
Rafiqa Bano, (Female), Ompora Budgam, Killed when CRPF and Polce opened fire in Budgam to disperse protestors on Sep 13.
Showkat Ahmad Mir, Budgam, was district president of JKLF (R), killed by CRPF and Police firing when he was leading a procession in main Budgam town on Sep 13.
Aqib Ahmad wagay, 14, Islamabad, Killed by CRPF and Polce men at Sarnal Islamabad outside the house of NC MP Mehboob Beigh in an unprovoked firing on Sep 13.
Muhammad Rafiq Teli, Chanikhan Sopore, Killed in CRPF firing on Sep 13.
Adil Ahmad, Humhama, Sccumbed to his injuries at SMHS hospital on Sep 13. It was a bloody monday (Sep 13) in which more than 17 people were killed in a single day with many crtical and many missing.
Abdul Qayoom, Sangrama, injured in CRPF and police firing at Tangmarg on Sep 13 and sccumbed to his injuries on morning of 14th September.
Arshad Khan, Arari Mendhar Poonch, killed when Policemen led by local SDPO opned fire on students protesting against desceration of Quran in US and in Soldarity with Kashmir on Sep 15.
Baghdad Hussain Shah, Gulad Mendhar Poonch, Killed in Police firing at Mendhar Poonch on Sep 15.
Shameem Ahmad, Jagil Mendhar Poonch, Killed in Police firing in the frontier district on Poonch on Sep 15.
Alamdar Shah, Gulad Mendhar, killed in CRPF police firing in poonch district on Sep 15. It was fourth killing on a single day in Poonch
Mudasir Ahmad Kana, 20, Batapora Sopore, killed when CRPF opned fire on protestors in Sopore. Received bullet injury and died on way to hospital on Sep15.
Hajira, 55, Redwani Kulgam, died of heart attack after CRPF ransacked her house. She was taken to hospital but was decleared brought dead by doctors.
Yasir Hameed Sheikh, Maisuma Srinagar, injured in police firing on August 30 succumbed on Sep 16.
Fayaz Ahmad Dar, 22, Surpura Beeru in Budgam, Killed when Army's 2 RR opened fire on group of people. He got seriously injured and was taken to hospital where he succumbed on Sep 17.
Ghulam Rasool Bhat, Tapper Pattan, Killed when Indian forces opned fire at protestors killing him and injuring many others on Sep 17.
Imtiyaz Ahmad, 23, Pallipora Shopian, Killed when Indian forces resorted to indiscriminate firing him and injuring six others on Sep 17.
Raju Nath, 14, Nathpora Khanbal, he had jumped into the river Jehlum after being chased away by Indian forces. His body was fished later on Sep 18.
Fayaz Ahmad Naikoo, Bemina Srinagar, injured on Sep14 in forces and police firing and Succumbed to his injuries at Soura hospital on Sep 18.
Noor-ul-Amin Dagga, 30, Naibasti Islamabad, Killed when CRPF and Police opened fire on funeral procession of Raju Nath, 14 year old boy. Noor-ul-Amin died on way to hospital on Sep 18.
Insar Ahmad Tantray, 27, Palhalan Pattan, Killed when Indian forces opened fire on people, he received bullet in chest and died on way to hospital on Sep 18. He was a student of Kashmir University doing Masters in English.
Ali Muhammad Waza, 30, Tantray Mohalla Pattan, Killed when Indian forces opened fire on people. He received critical injuries and succumbed in hospital after few hours on Sep 18.
Muhammad Amin Ganai, 25, Tappar Pattan, has sustained firearm arm injury to his spine when police opened fire on protestors at Tappar Payeen on Sep 17. he succumbed to his injuries on Sep 19 at Soura hospital.
Shabir Ahmad Dar, 25, Lider-mund Pulwama, sustained firearm injuries to his abdomen on Sep 13 when forces opened fire on people. He succumbed on Sep 19 at Soura hospital.
Bilal Ahmad Najar, Khanabal Islamabad, injured on Sep 18 in forces firing. He succumbed to his injuries on Sep 19 at SMHS hospital.
Mubeena Akhtar, 30, Natipora Sopore, sustained firearm injury in abdomen when patrol party of forces opened fire on pedestrians. She was taken to sopore hospital and referred to SMHS hospital srinagar were she was decleared brought dead on Sep 19
Altaf Ahmad, 25, Matipora Islamabad, beaten by army and got severely injured and was rushed to hospital and succumbed on Sep 20 after battling with life for three days.
Sajad Ahmad Pandit, 25, Sheikhpora Humhama, was seriously injured on Sep 13 at Humhama when CRPF and police opened fire to quell pro-freedom demonstration. He succumbed to his injuries at Soura hospital on Sep 22.
Umar Sulaiman Bhat, 16, Puthka Sopore, had received firearm injury in thigh when Indian troops belonging to Rashtriya Rifles (RR) firied on him on September 16. He succumbed to his injuries at Soura hospital on October 02.
Ghulam Nabi Mir, 55, Kadalabal Pampore, injured in Police (SOG) Special Operation Group and CRPF beating on October 07 resulting into severe head injuries, was taken into Soura hospital where he succumbed to his injuries on October 15.
14-year-old Arif Ahmad Bhat, son of Javed Ahmad Bhat of Chinkral Mohalla in uptown here had sustained critical injuries when a police teargas shell hit him on the head during clashes between protesters and police in Srinagar’s Maisuma locality on October, 25, 2009. He was rushed to SK Institute of Medical Sciences, Soura where he remained in coma for 8 months. He breathed his last on November 12.

I remember them, Do You? I remember there mothers whose heart must be aching for their presence, I remember their Fathers who still can feel the weight of the coffin in which he carried his son.I remember the tears of my sisters who long to play and tease them again. I remember my brothers who still can't get the picture of losing your best friend and companion. I feel what his mother must be feeling when she sees his mattresses, I feel what his father has lost, the sight of his joy playing around the house, I feel it all..My heart wails and my tear drops onto my hands. That tear just flashes the pictures of these innocent faces and their broken families.. They must be looking towards us from the heavens,smiling- wanting to be back and die for their rights,fight the tyranny and the oppression once again. I miss you with tears. I Love You.. I stand up, close my eyes and look inside to find your faces glowing and smiling towards me. I take my hand up and salute your courage! and just break down on the earth crying and wailing. But Sameer the 9 year old baby whispers into my ears "You have to Fight for us,for my mother, Don't lose heart. Azadi will come to Kashmir,you just be strong and patient. Fight the tyrants off". I just fall into a trance while i can see them playing in the garden of the heaven. Freedom will come to Kashmir. We Will Not Fall, We Will Rise Again.

"Neither the flesh nor the blood of your sacrifices reaches Allah, but it is the righteous motive underlying them that reaches Him." (Quran 22:37)

Our dreams are our freedom. The Indian state cannot take that away. Our resistance will live.”

2010-11-15T16:06:00.006+05:00

By Angana Chatterjee

“FREEDOM” REPRESENTS MANY things across rural and urban spaces in India-ruled Kashmir. These divergent meanings are steadfastly united on one point: freedom always signifies an end to India’s authoritarian governance.

In the administration of brutality, India, the postcolony, has proven itself coequal to its former colonial masters. Governing Kashmir is about India’s coming of age as a power, its ability to disburse violence, to manipulate and dominate. Kashmir is about nostalgia, about resources, and buffer zones. The possession of Kashmir by India renders an imaginary past real, emblematic of India’s triumphal unification as a nation-state.

Controlling Kashmir requires that Kashmiri demands for justice be depicted as threatening to India’s integrity. India’s contrived enemy in Kashmir is a plausible one — the Muslim “Other,” India’s historically manufactured nemesis.

What Is at Stake? Between June 11 and September 22 of 2010, Kashmir witnessed the execution of 109 youth, men, and women by India’s police, paramilitary and military. Indian forces opened fire on crowds, tortured children, detained elders without explanation, and coerced false confessions. Since June 7, there have been 73 days of curfew and 75 days of strikes and agitation. On September 11, the day of Eid-ul-Fitr celebrating the end of Ramadan, the violence continued. The paramilitary and police verbally abused and physically attacked civil society dissenters.

Mother of Showkat Mallik kissing him Goodbye

Summer 2010 was not unprecedented. Kashmir has been subjected to much, much worse. The use of public and summary execution for civic torture has been held necessary to Kashmir’s subjugation by the Indian state. Militarization has asserted vigilante jurisdiction over space and politics. The violence is staged, ritualistic, and performative, used to re-assert India’s power over Kashmir’s body.

The military’s fabrications — fake encounters, escalating perceptions of cross-border threat — function as the truth-making apparatus of the nation. We are witness to the paradox of history, as calibrated punishment — the lynching of the Muslim body, the object of criminality — enforces submission of a stateless nation (Kashmir) to the once-subaltern postcolony (India).

Kashmir is about the spectacle. The Indian state’s violence functions as an intervention, to discipline and punish, to provoke and dominate. The summer of 2010 evidenced India’s maneuvering against Kashmir’s determination to decide its future. The use of violence by the Indian forces was deliberate, their tactics cruel and precise, amidst the groundswell of public dissent in this third summer, since 2008, of indefatigable civil society uprisings for “Azaadi” (freedom).

Last Respects: Funeral of Pattan Martyrs

What is the Indian state hoping to achieve? One, that Kashmiris would submit to domination, forsaking their claim to separation from India (to be an independent state or, for some, to be assimilated with Pakistan), or their demand for full autonomy. Or, that provoked, grief-stricken and weary, Kashmiris would take up arms once again, giving India the opportunity to fortify its propaganda that Kashmiri civil society dissent against Indian rule is nurtured and endorsed today by external forces and groups in Pakistan and Afghanistan.

If the latter transpires, India will manipulate this to neutralize Kashmiri demands for de-militarization and conflict resolution, to extend its annexation of Kashmir, and further normalize civic and legal “states of exception” (i.e. repression). If India succeeds in both provoking local armed struggle and linking Kashmiri resistance to foreign terror, it will acquire international sanction to continue its government of Kashmir on grounds of “national security,” and “have proof” that Kashmiris are not authentically debating India’s government of them, but are pressured into it by external forces.

India can then reinforce its armed forces in Kashmir, presently 671,000 strong, to prolong the killing spree. Such provocation as policy is a mistake. Such legitimation of military rule will produce intractable conflict and violence. All indications are that Kashmiri civil society dissent will not abate: It is not externally motivated, but historically compelled.

Dominant nation-states overlook that freedom struggles are not adherent to the moralities of violence versus nonviolence, but reflect a desire to be free. Dominant nation-states forget that the greater the oppression, the more fervent is resistance. The greater the violence, the more likely is the provocation to counter-violence.

Whether dissent in Kashmir turns into organized armed struggle or continues as mass-based peaceful resistance is dependent upon India’s political decisions. If India’s subjugation persists, it is conceivable that the movement for nonviolent dissent, mobilized since 2004, will erode. Signs indicate that it is already slightly threadbare. It is conceivable that India’s brutality will induce Kashmiri youth to close the distance between stones and petrol bombs, or more.

If India fails to act, if Pakistan acts only in its self-interest, and if the international community does not insist on an equitable resolution to the Kashmir dispute, it is conceivable, that, forsaken by the world, Kashmiris will be compelled to take up arms again.

Misogynist groups such as the Lashkar-e-Toiba [fundamentalist Pakistani group — ed.], al-Qaeda or the Taliban are mercenaries looking for takers in Kashmir. By the Indian state’s record, there are between 500-700 militants in the Kashmir Valley today. These groups have not been successful because Kashmiris have been disinterested in alliances with them, not because the Indian army is successful in controlling them. This time, an armed mobilization by Kashmiris would include an even stronger mass movement than that which occurred between 1990 and 2004/2007, led by youth whose lives have been shaped by the two-decade long violence of militarization.

Who wants that? Can the South Asian Subcontinent, already nuclearized, survive that? India is accountable to keep this from happening — not through the use of unmitigated force, but through listening to the demands for change made by Kashmiris.

Will to Power This summer, India’s violence on Kashmir was threaded through with strategic calculation. The police, military and paramilitary, without provocation, brutalized widespread peaceable protests across Kashmir that were opposing the suppression of civil society. Hostile Indian forces acted with the knowledge and sanction of the government of India and the government of Jammu and Kashmir.

The repeated repression by state forces provoked civilians, whose political means of expression and demands have been systematically denied, to engage in stone pelting. The conditions of militarization prompted them to be in non-compliance with declared, undeclared, and unremitting curfews. In instances, civilians engaged in acts of violence, including arson.

Each instance of civilian violence was provoked by the unmitigated and first use of force on civilians and/or extrajudicial killings on the part of Indian forces. Peaceable civilian demonstrations by women and men protested the actions of Indian forces. Individuals caught in the midst of the unrest, or mourning the death of a civilian, were fired upon by Indian forces, leading to other killings by Indian forces, more civilian protests, greater use of force by the police and paramilitary, use of torture in certain instances by Indian forces, more killings by Indian forces, larger, even violent, civilian protests, and further state repression.

In Summer 2010, dominant discourse focused on the use of stone pelting and on the instances of violence by youth in Kashmir as the reason for armed action on the part of the state. Indian Prime Minister Manmohan Singh focused on the need for efficient tactics in “crowd control.” India’s elite intelligentsia, inculcated into “rational” conduct, and no longer outraged by suffering, assessed the costs and benefits of militaristic violence.

Civil society demonstrations in Kashmir are not a law-and- order problem, as they have been reported. Stone pelting, and incidents of arson and violence, are not causal to the violence that is routine in Kashmir today. Stone pelting does not seek to kill, and has not resulted in death. Pro-freedom leaders (termed “separatists” by the Indian state) have emphasized nonviolent civil disobedience, and have appealed to civil society not to engage in violent protests in reaction to the violence and killings by Indian forces.

Indian rulers disregard that suppression acts to catalyze the resistance movement in Kashmir. The Government of India continues to monitor the resistance movement, shifting the boundaries of acceptable practice of civil liberties. Kashmiris are allowed to protest in New Delhi, while in Kashmir sloganeering (“Go, India, Go Back,” “Indian Dogs Go Home,” “Quit Kashmir”) is met with force. When Masarat Alam Bhat, a rising pro-freedom leader, issued an appeal to Indian soldiers in July to “Quit Kashmir,” Indian authorities banned its circulation.

Acts of violence by protesting civilians increased as military violence continued into September. On September 13, crowds in Kashmir torched a Christian missionary school and some government offices while protesting the call to desecrate the Qur’an by Florida Pastor Terry Jones. On September 13, 18 civilians were killed by the Indian forces in Kashmir (a police officer also died).

Provocation is easy in a context of sustained brutality. Provoking Kashmiri dissenters to violence serves to confirm the dominant story of Muslims as “violent.” Yet again, several pro-freedom leaders condemned the attack on the Christian school and renewed their call for nonviolent dissent.

On September 13, the Government of India stated its willingness to engage with Kashmiri groups that reject violence. New Delhi did not apply the same precondition to itself. Nor did it acknowledge that pro-freedom groups have repeatedly opposed the use of violence in recent years.

The Kashmiri Muslim is caricatured as violent by India’s dominant political and media apparatus. There is a refusal to recognize the inequitable historical-political power relations at play between Muslim-prevalent Kashmir’s governance by Hindu-dominant India. The racialization of the Muslim, as “Other” and barbaric, reveals the xenophobia of the Indian state. Distinctions in method and power, between stone pelter and armed soldier, between “terrorist” and “freedom fighter,” are inconvenient.

The Indian state’s discourse is animated by the prejudice that Kashmiri inclinations to violence are subsidized by Pakistan. Such misconceptions ignore that while Kashmiris did travel to Pakistan to seek arms training, such activity was largely confined to the early days of the armed militancy, circa late 1980s through the mid-1990s. Pathologies of “violent Muslims” legitimate the discursive and physical violence of the Indian “security” forces, which is presented as necessary protection for the maintenance of the Hindu majoritarian Indian nation.

Witnessing I have spent considerable time between July 2006 and July 2010 learning about Kashmir, working in Kashmir. In undertaking the work of the International People’s Tribunal on Human Rights and Justice in Indian-administered Kashmir, I have travelled across Kashmir’s cities and countryside, from Srinagar to Kupwara, through Shopian and Islamabad (Anantnag), with Parvez Imroz, Zahir-Ud-Din, and Khurram Parvez.

I have witnessed the violence that is perpetrated on Kashmiris by India’s military, paramilitary and police. I have walked through the graveyards that hold Kashmir’s dead, and have met with grieving families. I have sat with witnesses, young men, who described how Indian forces chased down and executed their friends for participating in civil disobedience. I have met women whose sons were disappeared. I have met with “half-widows” [women whose husbands have been “disappeared” — ed.]

A Kashmiri Muslim girl during a demonstration displays a photograph of her elder brother who was subjected to enforced disappearance by Indian troops

I have spoken with youth, women and men, who are enraged. I have also spoken with persons who were violated by militants in the 1990s. People’s experiences with the reprehensible atrocities of militancy do not imply the abdication of their desires for self-determination. The Indian state deliberately conflates militancy with the people’s mass movement for liberation.

I have met with torture survivors, non-militants and former militants, who testified to the sadism of the forces. Men who had petrol injected through the anus. Water-boarding, mutilation, being paraded naked; rape of women, children and men; starvation, humiliation, psychological torture. An eagle tattoo on the arm of a man was reportedly identified by an army officer as a symbol of Pakistan-held Azad Kashmir, even as the man clarified the tattoo was from his childhood. The skin containing it was burned. The officer said, the man recalled: “When you look at this, think of Azaadi.”

Eyes Speak Louder Than Words. Mother of a Disappeared Son

A mother, reportedly asked to watch her daughter’s rape by army personnel, pleaded for her release. They refused. She then pleaded that she could not watch, asking to be sent out of the room or be killed. The soldier pointed a gun to her forehead, stating he would grant her wish, and shot her dead before they proceeded to rape the daughter.

Who are the Indian forces? Disenfranchised caste and other groups, Assamese, Nagas, Sikhs, Dalits (erstwhile “untouchable” peoples), and Muslims from Kashmir, are being used to combat Kashmiris. Why did 34 soldiers commit suicide in Kashmir in 2008, and 52 fratricidal killings take place between January 21, 2004 and July 14, 2009? Why did 16 soldiers commit suicide and two die in fratricidal killings between January and early August in 2010?

Laws authorize soldiers to question, raid houses, detain and arrest without bringing charges, and to prolong incarceration without due process. They blur distinctions between military/paramilitary, “legality”/“illegality.” Citing “national security,” Indian forces in Kashmir shoot and kill on uncorroborated suspicion, with impunity from prosecution.

Yet revoking the Armed Forces Special Powers Act, for example, will not stop the horror in Kashmir. India’s laws are not the primary contention. India’s political and military existence in Kashmir is the issue. Legal impunity is the cover for the moral impunity of Indian rule. Human rights violations in Kashmir will not stop without removing the military. The military cannot be removed without surgically rupturing India’s will to power over Kashmir.

Is the military willing to withdraw from Kashmir? Since 2002, the Government of India has procured five billion U.S. dollars in weaponry from the Israeli state — a colossal sum for India, where 38% of the world’s poor reside and where eight of the country’s poorest states are more impoverished than the 26 poorest countries of the African continent. Five billion dollars, in addition to the other monies and resources invested in the militarization of Kashmir, do not evidence an intent to withdraw.

Inflexible Diplomacy Yet India needs to make the “Kashmir problem” disappear. India’s diplomacy is directed toward assuming a role as a world power, a world market, and a world negotiator in global politics. India is also seeking a seat on the United Nations Security Council.

What constitutes India’s dialogue with Kashmiris in conditions of extreme subjugation? The Government of India has scheduled a hurried time frame in propelling Track II diplomacy into success, to secure a proposal for resolution that is acceptable to India and Pakistan and, ostensibly, to Kashmiris. The terms of reference set by New Delhi exclude discussions of self-determination or heightened autonomy, boundary negotiations, the Siachen glacier and critical water resources, and renegotiations of the Line of Control.

New Delhi and Islamabad appear to be in collusion. If Pakistan overlooks India’s annexation of Jammu and Kashmir, India would be willing to forget Pakistan’s occupation of another fragment of Kashmir. For the Government of Pakistan, however, Afghanistan is the current priority, not Kashmir. Conversations on the phased withdrawal of troops by India and Pakistan at the border, local self-government, and the creation of a joint supervision mechanism in Jammu and Kashmir, involving India, Pakistan and Kashmir, are at an impasse.

The Government in New Delhi is looking to neutralize Kashmir’s demand for self-determination or unabridged autonomy, pushing forward a diluted “autonomy,” seeking to assimilate Kashmir with finality into the Indian nation-state. New Delhi is seeking buy-in, which it hopes to push through using the collaborator coterie in Srinagar. Local self-government would be New Delhi’s compromise — a weak autonomy — with a joint supervisory apparatus constituted of India, Pakistan, and Kashmir.

New Delhi hopes that the Kashmiri leadership, including pro-freedom groups, can be restrained for a price, and weakened through infighting. Certain segments of the pro-freedom leadership, throughout history, have lacked vision, honesty, and the ability to prioritize collaboration for justice and peace in Kashmir. Certain segments of the religious and political leadership have been unable to collaborate meaningfully with civil society, with observant Muslims and those irreligious, and with non-Muslims.

The spiritual commitment to justice in Islamic tradition has receded as religious determinations embrace instrumental political rationality. The determination of what “freedom” is has been deferred since 1931; instead there has been a focus on immediate and small political gains. This has plagued and rendered ineffectual segments of the complex Hurriyat (Freedom) alliance in the present, which is often unable to capitalize on the exuberant people’s movement on the streets and pathways of Kashmir.

Segments of the pro-freedom leadership have focused on New Delhi rather than Kashmir civil society. New Delhi has fixated on enabling this dynamic, using vast resources to create a collaborator class in Srinagar that undermines the will of the Kashmiri people. And while Pakistan’s politicians have pointed to India’s injustices, they have not reciprocally addressed issues in the management of Pakistan-held Kashmir, including the deflation of movements for the unification of Kashmir.

The crisis of state in Pakistan, and the role of its ruling elite in vitiating people’s democratic processes, remains a pitfall for regional security. The logic that Muslim-prevalent Kashmir must either stay with secular India or join Muslim-dominated Pakistan is configured by India’s and Pakistan’s internal ideological needs and identitarian politics. Neither is inevitable. Neither speak to the foremost aspiration of Kashmiris.

The Government of India’s “inclusive dialogue” this summer has systematically disregarded Kashmiri civil society demands, thrusting a violent peace brokered by New Delhi’s agents of change. New Delhi has invited various Kashmiri stakeholders from civil society as well. Their articulations, however, have not shifted the agenda, even as bringing people to the table is used to legitimate India’s visage of inclusivity.

What Kashmiris Want What do a majority of Kashmiris want? First, to secure a good-faith agreement with New Delhi and Islamabad regarding the right of Kashmiris to determine the course of their future, set a time frame, and define the interim conditions necessary to proceed.

Following this, civil society and political leaders would put in motion processes to educate, debate and consult with society, including minority groups, in sketching the terms of reference for a resolution, prior to negotiations with India and Pakistan.

Significantly, pro-freedom leader Syeed Ali Geelani’s statement of August 31 sought to shift the terms of engagement, not requiring the precondition of self-determination or the engagement of Pakistan. Unless New Delhi responds, the protests in Kashmir will continue. Geelani’s statement, supported by the All Parties Hurriyat Conference leader Mirwaiz Umar Farooq, testifies to this. The mood in the streets testifies to this.

New Delhi’s current approach repudiates what Kashmiris want. The Government of India’s “inclusive dialogue” this summer does not recognize Kashmir as an international dispute. Nor does it include: an immediate halt to, and moratorium on, extrajudicial killings by the Indian military, paramilitary and police; an immediate halt to, and moratorium on, the use of torture, kidnapping, enforced disappearance and gendered violence by the Indian military, paramilitary, and police; a plan for the release of political prisoners, the return of those exiled, and contending with the issue of displacement; agreements on an immediate “soft border” policy between Kashmir, India and Pakistan, to enable the resurgence of Kashmir’s economy; agreements to non-interference in the exercise of civil liberties of Kashmiris, including the right to civil disobedience, and freedom of speech, assembly, religion, movement and travel.

New Delhi has refused to acknowledge the extent of human rights violations, and how they are integral to maintaining dominion. New Delhi has not explained why militarization in Kashmir has been disproportionately used to brutalize Kashmiris, when ostensibly the Indian forces are in Kashmir to secure the border zones.

India’s “inclusive dialogue” does not include a plan for the proactive demilitarization and the immediate revocation of all authoritarian laws. Nor does it include: a plan for the transparent identification and dismantling of detention and torture centers, including in army camps; a plan for installing a Truth and Justice Commission for calculating loss and for political and psychosocial reparation; a plan for international and transparent investigations into unknown and mass graves constituting crimes against humanity committed by the Indian military, paramilitary and police. Such omissions are a travesty of any process promising “resolution.”

Islamophobia and India’s Crisis Kashmir’s claims are historically unique and bona fide. But history — the United Nations Resolutions of 1948, the promise by India’s first Prime Minister Nehru for a plebiscite (to rethink the temporary Accession of Jammu and Kashmir to India by the Hindu-descent Maharaja, Hari Singh), Article 370 of the Indian Constitution [which gave Kashmir the right to live under its own laws — ed.] has been jettisoned by an amnesic India. Its official nationalism seeks to rewrite history, affixing Kashmir to India, to overwrite memory. Within the battlefields of knowledge/power, official “truth” becomes the contagion sustaining cultures of repression and mass atrocity, creating cultures of grief.

New Delhi has been the self-appointed arbitrator in determining the justifications of Kashmir’s claims to freedom. The Indian state is apprehensive that any change in the status quo in Kashmir would foster internal crises of gigantic proportion in India. Across the nation there is considerable discontent, as dreams and difference are mortgaged to the idea of India fabricated by the elite. Kashmir cannot remain India’s excuse to avoid dealing with its own internal matters.

Adivasis (indigenous peoples), Dalits, disenfranchised caste groups, women, religious, ethnic and gender minorities are fatigued by the nation’s deferred promises. Forty-four million Adivasis have been displaced since 1947. Central India is torn asunder, and as Maoists are designated as the latest “national threat,” national memory forgets the systematic brutalization of peoples in the tribal belt that led to a call to arms. Then there is the Northeast, Punjab, the massacre of Muslims in Gujarat, riots against Christians in Orissa, farmer suicides, the plight of peasants and Adivasis of the Narmada Valley where dams are not the “temples of India,” but its burial grounds.

Indian civil society decries that Kashmir is not deserving of autonomy or separation, as it, as an assumed Islamist state, would be a threat to India’s democracy. Dominant Indian (left-oriented) civil society must rethink its characterization of Kashmiri civil society as prevalently “Jamaati.” Jamaat is Arabic for assembly. “Jamaati” is used by Indian civil society to imply Islamist or fundamentalist. The reference can often be translated as Muslim = Jamaati, and Muslim-observant = fundamentalist.

To assume that a Muslim-majority state in Kashmir will be ruled by Islamist extremists in support of global terror reflects majoritarian India’s racism. Indians of Hindu descent too easily overlook that India’s democracy is infused with Hindu cultural dominance. Indian civil society assumes that Islam and democracy are incompatible, supported by the inflamed Islamophobia in the polities of the West. Importantly, India forgets that in its own history with the British, freedom fighters had noted that the oppressor cannot adjudge when a stateless people are “deserving” of freedom.

Freedom is fundamentally an experiment with risk that Kashmiris must be willing to take. The global community must support them in making such risk ethical. Jammu and Kashmir is a Muslim majority space. The population of India-held Kashmir was recorded at approximately 6,900,000 in 2008, of which Muslims are approximately 95%. Kashmir’s future as a democratic, inclusive and pro-secular space is linked to what happens within India and Pakistan.

Kashmiris who wish to be separate from India and Pakistan must assess the difficult alliances yet to be built among Kashmir, Jammu and Ladakh, and among Muslims and Hindu Pandits, Dogra Hindus, Buddhists, Sikhs, Christians, indigenous groups and others. Then there is the question of what lies ahead between Indian-held Kashmir and Pakistan-held Kashmir. Minority groups, such as Kashmiri Pandits, must refuse the Indian state’s hyper-nationalist strategy in using the Pandit community to create opposition between Muslims and Hindus in Kashmir, as part of its strategy to religionize the issue and govern through communalization.

Where is the international community on the issue of Kashmir? In present history, Palestine, Ireland, Tibet and Kashmir share common features. In Tibet, 1.2 million died (1949-1979), and 320,000 were made refugees. In Ireland, 3,710 have died (1969-2010). For Israel, the occupation of Palestine has resulted in 10,193 dead (1987-2010), with 4.7 million refugees registered with the United Nations (1947-2010). In Kashmir, 70,000 are dead, over 8,000 have been disappeared, and 250,000 have been displaced (1989-2010).

During British Prime Minister David Cameron’s recent visit to India, he was asked to refrain from bringing up the “K” word. United States President Barack Obama’s proposed visit to New Delhi in November is already laden with prohibitions, India’s rule in Kashmir and its larger human rights record among them. As well, right-wing Hindu advocacy groups have been successful in securing the silence of many on Capitol Hill on the issue of Kashmir.

The Kashmiri diaspora has been partly effective in bringing visibility to the issue, even as the community remains ideologically and politically fragmented. International advocates have propagated an “economic” approach to “normalcy.” This avoids the fact that militarization impacts every facet of life, making economic development outside of political change impossible.

Kashmiris are caught amidst world events, regional machinations, and the unresolved histories of the Subcontinent. In 2010, as of September 23, 351 soldiers from the United States have died in Afghanistan, while the United Kingdom sustained 92 fatalities. Of paramount concern for both is bringing their forces home without compromising the principles of NATO (North Atlantic Treaty Organization) operations in the region. To accomplish this would require that Pakistan move sizeable forces from the Indo-Kashmir-Pak border to the Af-Pak frontier. This cannot be done, however, without cessation in Indo-Pak hostilities, which requires resolution of the Kashmir dispute.

Kashmir’s resolution, however, cannot mean a sanction to Pakistan’s encroachment on Afghanistan, which, given the political situation in the region, remains a highly likely possibility. For the United States and India, the containment of China is another issue, also linked to Kashmir.

The Indian state’s military governance penetrates every facet of life. The sounds of war haunt mohallas [neighborhoods —ed]. The hyper-presence of militarization forms a graphic shroud over Kashmir: Detention and interrogation centers, army cantonments, abandoned buildings, bullet holes, bunkers and watchtowers, detour signs, deserted public squares, armed personnel, counter-insurgents, and vehicular and electronic espionage. Armed control regulates and governs bodies.

It has been reported that, since 1990, Kashmir’s economy has incurred a loss of more than 1,880,000 million Indian Rupees ($40.4 billion U.S.). The immensity of psychosocial losses is impossible to calculate. The conditions of everyday life are in peril. They elicit suffocating anger and despair, telling a story of the web of violence in which civil society in Kashmir is interned.

For India, constituting a coherent national collective has required multiple wars on difference. National governance determines territory and belonging, disenfranchising subaltern claims. Local struggles for self-determination are brutalized to reproduce obedient national collectives. Systemic acts of oppression chart a history, as relations of power are choreographed by nation-states in the suppression of others. Massacre, gendercide, genocide, occupation, function within a continuum of tactics in negation/annihilation.

India’s relation to Kashmir is not about Kashmir. Kashmir’s aversion to being subsumed by the Indian state is not reducible to history. If violence breaks lives, Kashmir is quite broken. If oppression produces resistance, Kashmir is profusely resilient. From Michel Foucault to the African thinker Achille Mbembe [who coined the term “postcolony,” — ed.] and so much in between, we are reminded of the myriad techniques in governance that seek to subjugate, while naming subjugation as subject formation, as protection, “security,” law and order, and progress.

Realpolitik triumphs against a backdrop of persistent refusal. Through summer heat and winter snow, across interminable stretches of concertina wire, broken windowpanes, walls, barricades, and checkpoints, the dust settles to rise again. The agony of loss. The desecration of life. Kashmir’s spiritual fatalities are staggering. The dead are not forgotten. Remembrance and mourning are habitual practises of dissent.

“We are not free. But we know freedom,” KP tells me. “The movement is our freedom. Our dreams are our freedom. The Indian state cannot take that away. Our resistance will live.”

Originally Written on :The International View Point http://bit.ly/cnlNS4

I am always losing control on my mind and patience whenever there is any mention of my missing son.”

2010-11-14T20:43:00.002+05:00

Sheikh Gowhar Ayoub, a 19-year-old college student, was picked up at around 3 pm on 4

August 1995 by army personnel of the 7 Jat Regiment, when he was walking home from Bemina Degree College, Srinagar. Several relatives and passers-by witnessed the arrest but army subsequently denied holding him. On 5 August 1995 his family filed a complaint at Batamaloo police station, Srinagar (FIR 19/95). The family was reportedly informed by another detainee that he had seen Sheikh Gowhar Ayoub in army custody. On 26 September 1995, a habeas corpus petition (No341/95) was filed in the High Court. A further petition (No 539/95) was filed on 26 December 1995. The petitions were heard in the Jammu and Kashmir High Court but the state respondents failed to bring Sheikh Gowhar Ayub to court as ordered by the judge or to explain what had happened to him.

A letter dated 18 September 1995 from Brigadier Arjun Ray to Lt. General D.D. Saklani,

Advisor (Home) to the then Governor of Jammu and Kashmir stated that Sheikh Gowhar Ayub was apprehended “and the unit released him inadvertently on its own without involving the police. The unit is trying to locate the individual. ... It is also learnt that the aforesaid individual is a militant belonging to TUM group and in all probability would have rejoined militancy.” According to the victim’s family, Sheikh Gowhar Ayub had no connection with any political group. In April 1996, the court directed the respondents to place proof of their assertions of the release of Sheikh Gowhar Ayoub before the court. It is not known if the respondents have complied with this direction.

A judicial inquiry was subsequently set up on High Court orders under the Chief Judicial Magistrate, Srinagar. Following police failure to cooperate with the inquiry and to appear in the court at a hearing on 18 December 1997 as directed, the Chief Judicial Magistrate Srinagar issued nonbailable warrants relating to contempt of court against the SHO.

In August 1998, in response to an inquiry by Amnesty International regarding the “Disappearance” of Sheikh Gowhar Ayub, the Jammu and Kashmir Human Rights Commission replied by forwarding, without comment, a report of the Inspector General of Police, CID, J&K Camp Srinagar dated February 1996 which repeated the army statement quoted above. The mother of Sheikh Gowhar Ayoub, a widow, wrote to Amnesty International: “The way you have taken interest to locate my son has given me determination that humanity has not been wiped off from this world where cruelty has become a routine matter. Kindly forgive me for becoming emotional. I am always losing control on my mind and patience whenever there is any mention of my missing son.”

Source:Amnesty International Report of 1999