Much before the uncertainties overtook Kashmir, an old city school dropout jumped into the labyrinth of the ‘cause’. Seeking answers to real life from reel life, Noor M Katjoo moved cadres, crossed borders, fought, was caught and eventually freed. The greying young man offers his version of history to Bilal Handoo at a time when curtains seemed to have fallen on his quest and the talkie that he famously used to undo the history he loved to hate

Noor Mohammad Katjoo at his residence in old city’s Malaratta.
Pic: Bilal Bahadur

Men at work have left after making dust of a few decades old show. It is The End of Srinagar’s Regal Cinema. The cinema that sparked off rebellion in mid-eighties has been completely decimated.

But quite contrary to a much-talked about “spontaneous” reaction supposedly triggered by a film titled Omar Mukhtar screened at Regal, a man who burned Sheikh Abdullah’s poster is alive to admit: “More than a spontaneous reaction, it was a well scripted plan!”

These days Noor Mohammad Katjoo, 50, of old Srinagar’s Malaratta locality is counting his days quite miserably. Just 3 kms away from the dismantled cinema, he lives in a typical medieval house of old city.

A narrow and dark staircases lead to the first storey of his house. A vehicular noise piercing his room through a window is quite deafening. Besides speedy vehicles plying on the street below set tremors in his house.

As he sits near his window and sets his gaze outside, he starts recalling his past.

Katjoo was known as the “daredevil of downtown” until his torment began. Over the years, his ‘macho-man’ image has totally diminished.

He still remembers Regal and other eight cinemas of Srinagar as big business houses before a militant outfit ‘Allah Tigers’ and its chief, Air Marshal Noor Khan announced a ban on cinemas and liquor bars through local dailies on August 18, 1989.

The motive behind the ban was to create an atmosphere for waging full-scale rebellion against Indian rule in Kashmir. But despite the ban, cinemas functioned until growing public outcry and death threats to owners stalled the popular public hangouts on December 31, 1989.

And soon deserted cinemas were turned into notorious detention centres with barbed wire windows, bunkered gates and bullet-torn walls.

But among the cinemas, Regal was known for triggering a rebellion. In the summer of 1985, Director Mustafa Akkad’s film, Omar Mukhtyar starring Anthony Quinn was screened at the Regal in Srinagar’s city centre, Lal Chowk. The film showed Libyan guerrilla leader fighting against his country’s occupation.

The inflamed young men coming out of Regal then torched Sheikh’s poster. “But that reaction wasn’t all spontaneous,” claims Katjoo, defying the prevailing notion that the film triggered the reaction. “It was all pre-planned by a group of young men fighting against the occupation. The motive behind the move was to send a strong message.”

The film, which was running houseful, was forcefully taken down in the first week itself by the authorities.

But the plot of the script that followed was akin to any Hollywood blockbuster.

***

Preview

My name is Noor Mohammad Katjoo. I was born in 1964 in the milkmen family of Old Srinagar’s Malaratta locality. I was breast-fed by seven lactating mothers. The ritual meant auguring longevity, health and good fortune for a child. I was the only brother among six sisters. I studied in a local private school up to 7^th standard before I grew disillusioned with studies. I then started working as a coppersmith. I was known for my skills to draw beautiful patterns on copper utensils.

Stony Affair

During those days, stone pelting was a common feature of downtown. I would only participate in stone pelting if I would hear pro-Pakistan slogans being raised. It was mid-seventies. Two years later in 1977, while walking near old city’s Naid Kadal, I was arrested by police for the first time. I was lodged in Zaina Kadal police station. Later the cops told my father: “Your son has become a nuisance for us. Better keep him away from stone pelting. Or, the consequences will be too bad for him!” I was later released. But who gave a damn to what cops were preaching.

Introducing Mushtaq Latram

Mushtaq A Zargar

After walking out of prison, I was leading a normal life for a while. And then one day, in early eighties, one local shopkeeper told me: “We should do something for the freedom of Kashmir.” I didn’t understand the real motive of that man. But I casually replied: “But what can we do?”

“We can do many things. But first tell me, can you arrange some boys?”

“Yes, I can.”

“Great! Okay then, meet me soon with other boys,” he said and left.

The man was Farooq Ahmad Khushu of Bohri Kadal. I soon understood that he was up to something.

Meanwhile, I gathered some boys. One among them was Mushtaq Ahmad Zargar aka Mushtaq Latram.

Latram was a coppersmith artisan like me. I told him: “Look, we are recruiting local youth to work for the freedom struggle of Kashmir. What do you say? Would you like to join us?” Without giving any second thoughts, he blurted out: “Yes! I would love to be part of it.” But before giving him a nod, I strictly instructed him to stay quiet about our plans.

That is how I introduced Latram to the freedom movement of Kashmir.

A ‘Grave’ Meeting

Katjoo during youthful days.

Khushu directed me to meet at Malkhah [the largest graveyard of valley in old city] with those boys. In that secret meeting amidst graves and under bushes, Khushu told us: “I hope you must have prepared your minds well to face any consequences by choosing this path. But let me assure you all, you don’t need to worry about anything. We will act as per plans.”

The birth of Al Maqbool

In the same secret meeting at Malkhah, we decided to float a pro-freedom party. We named it Al Maqbool after Mohammad Maqbool Bhat who was at that time incarcerated inside Tihar Jail. To run the party, each member would pay Rs 300 per week. For the next two years, we continue to unfurl Pakistani flags at many places of Srinagar as a mark of protest against Indian rule.

During those days, unlike today, Pakistani flags were symbol of Kashmir’s Independence. Other than Pakistani slogans and flags, everything else was simply viewed with suspicion.

Mission Pakistan

In later part of 1982, Khushu told us: “Be ready, we have to go to Pakistan!” The news delighted us. Mushtaq Latram and another member were chosen for the first visit.

One fine day, the duo left for Pakistan. They met their guide at Baramulla. The guide demanded money before taking them along. But as Latram gave him money, the guide ran away. This forced them to come back. They were clearly instructed to give money to guide only on Pakistan border. But somehow, they couldn’t stick to the plan. Everyone termed it a human mistake and the matter was put to rest.

And soon, the preparation for another Pak visit resumed. This time I and another party member, Farooq Ahmad, not Khushu, were chosen for the visit. We both were cautious and went ahead with full preparation.

A mysterious military task

Upon reaching Pakistan border, we were taken inside a room where a Pakistani military man in civvies met us. “So, what is it that you want to do?” The man quizzed. “Sir, we actually are members of Al Maqbool…” I replied. “Yes, yes, I know. There is something you are expected to do,” he said.

“What are we expected to do?”

“Simple, Lawo aur leejao,” he replied.

“But, Sir, what can we give you?”

“You can give us enough. To begin with, do one thing, note down numbers painted on the rear end of the Indian army vehicles and send it to me,” the man directed.

And with that, we started leaving for home, but he stopped us, saying : “Do you need any money?”

“Not money. But, can you give us some ammo?”

He gave us a pencil bomb before we left. After paying Rs 7,000 to our guide, we set foot back inside the valley.

Once back to old city, we informed Khushu about the plan. We all agreed to do it. We dispersed in different parts of valley to note down numbers on army vehicles. I myself went to Baramulla. Without letting anyone to sniff about our activities, we kept noting down the numbers for close to 50 days.

Farooq Khushu finally dispatched them to Pakistani border through a reliable guide.

But till today, I have failed to conclude the purpose of those numbers.

A Shocker from Tihar

Maqbool Bhat: a painting

In 1983, we sent two of our members to buy arms and ammo from Doda. They brought three pistols besides some explosives. We again met at Malkhah and discussed the strategy. That meeting was very grave for all of us. The news of Maqbool Bhat’s possible hanging had spread. Neelkanth Ganjoo, the Sessions Judge of Srinagar had sentenced him to death. We wanted to do something, but we couldn’t do anything.

By February 11, 1984, India hanged Maqbool Bhat inside Tihar Jail. Although expected, but the hanging of our hero was a shocking news for us.

We started agitation. A fierce stone pelting began. We torched a vehicle in Bohri Kadal Chowk in protest. Even then, our anger couldn’t vanish.

Extensive discussions and debates into the factors behind Bhat’s hanging followed.

During the same time, we made up our minds to carry out a series of bomb blasts. On April 22, 1984, we did three bomb blasts. One bomb blast was triggered near Satellite in Badam Bagh. The second bomb blast at Srinagar’s High Court, because the hanging of Shaheed Maqbool Bhat was written there.

I was tasked to trigger a bomb blast at the house of Neelkanth Ganjoo in Karan Nagar. The motive was not to kill anyone, rather to send a strong message. Ganjoo was later shot dead in 1990. He was among the first persons to be killed.

After these bomb blasts, I and Mushtaq Latram went to the newspaper office and gave them a written note. We had claimed the responsibility of the bomb blasts. While Mushtaq went to Aftab office; I went to Srinagar Times. The next day the newspapers reported that some unknown men affiliated with Al Maqbool visited their office and claimed the responsibility of bomb blasts.

Hoisting Green across Jammu

Before Maqbool Bhat’s first death anniversary, we were planning to create a big impact. As we met, it was decided: “We will hoist Pakistani flags simultaneously at Srinagar and Jammu.”

On Feb 10, 1985, I along with my other party member, Altaf left for Jammu.

It was already night when we reached Jammu. In the darkness, we kept roaming with a bag full of Pakistani flags. We were about to hoist first flag when someone shouted behind us. It was petrifying call. As we turned back, we saw a cop staring at us. “What are you doing here at this hour?”

“Sir, we have lost our way. We don’t know how to reach Jamia Masjid,” we replied.

From his gestures, it was certain that he was a very tough cop. “Okay, that’s fine. But what are you carrying inside this bag,” he asked, very sternly.

His demand was alarming. To distract his attention though, I took out a pear from the bag and insisted him to eat it. “No, no. There is no need for this. Do one thing. Just follow this route, you will reach Jamia Masjid,” he replied.

We sighed relief and walked away. Immediately, we did our task. Till the dawn of next morning, we kept hoisting flags.

Once done, we went to Jamia Masjid. We shortly left and boarded first vehicle for valley. To force the driver to leave immediately, we told him: “Please, move fast, our grandmother is very ill.”

The trick worked. The driver drove fast. By late afternoon, we were back in valley.

The next day, both Jammu and Srinagar based newspapers reported the episode. And thus made authorities alarmingly alert.

Joining Tala party

In those days, I was part of another popular party called Tala Party. It was also working for the freedom movement of Kashmir. Yasin Malik, Javaid Mir, Nayeem Khan, Mushtaq Ul Islam, Shakeel Bakshi, Showkat Bakshi, Firdous Shah, Iqbal Gondur, Fayaz Gondur and others were the part of it. We would meet at old city’s Bohri Kadal. We had named the place as Akaiel Takhte.

For us, stone pelting was a sign of resistance.

Interestingly, once on July 13, we went to throw stones at National Conference gathering at Khwaja Bazaar in old city. But the NC mob caught Yasin Malik and roughed him quite badly. They drenched him in a mud pool. Somehow, we took him away. After washing him up, we took him to SMHS hospital for treatment. We didn’t reveal his real name for the fear of his arrest. Those days, police and CID men in civvies would often make rounds around the hospital.

A plot behind Omar Mukhtar

A poster of Omar Mukhtar – Lion of the Desert

On one fine day in 1985, members of Tala Party met at Srinagar’s Eidgarh. In that meeting, it was decided: “We will burn Sheikh Abdullah’s poster after watching ‘Omar Mukhtar’ at Regal Cinema!” Everyone in the meeting was instructed to watch the movie with one’s own pocket money. Everyone was clearly instructed to watch film from Stall, the middle part of cinema hall. It was a common understanding that Stall would remain crowded by ruffians. And in case of police raid, those men would come to our rescue.

On the fateful day, we went to watch the show between 1 PM and 4 PM. At interval, I asked my fellow members: “Have you brought Shiekh Abdullah’s poster?” “No!” Their reply was surprising.

Later, I understood that everyone had thought that some other member would bring the poster.  As a result, none had brought it.

So, I walked out of the cinema hall along with two other members to get the poster.

We passed through Regal Lane and reached Palladium Cinema where we saw a big life-sized portrait of Sheikh Abdullah hanging on the wall of a shop in the narrow lane. We greeted the shopkeeper and told him: “Today is the engagement ceremony of our brother. He is pressing hard for the photo of Bab [Shiekh Abdullah]. He says, without Bab’s photo, I won’t take part in the engagement. Since morning, we have been searching the same but couldn’t get one. Now, we spotted one in your shop. Please help us. Give us this photo. We are ready to pay anything for it.”

The shopkeeper agreed. We handed over a hundred rupees note to him and walked away. We broke the glass frame of Sheikh’s portrait, folded his photo and kept it safe in pocket. We shortly joined our members back in the cinema.

Later, as per plan, we charged out of the cinema along with Sheikh Abdullah’s photo. I, Yasin Malik, Iqbal Gandroo and many other youth pitched slogans. The people coming out of the cinema hall joined us. As we tried to set Sheikh’s photo on fire, somehow it didn’t catch fire!

I and Javaid Mir ran towards nearby Shakti Sweets shop. We drained all the kerosene from a stove in to a glass. We rushed back to the spot. I sprayed kerosene on Sheikh’s photo and set it on fire.

It created a great scene on the spot. But soon, a police party rushed to the spot and we all ran away. I ran towards the Bund. But the police party was still after me. A few gamblers saw police behind me. To appease police, they shouted: “Thief, thief…” They caught and handed me over to them.

I was lodged in Kothi Bagh police station for 3 hours. And then, I was taken to Srinagar’s Red 16 interrogation centre. I was kept there for 16 days. After that I was again taken to Kothi Bagh from where I was taken to Central Jail, where I was released on bail.

Disintegration of Al Maqbool

After coming out of prison I came to know that many youth were detained. Freedom fighting parties like the Holy War Fighter’s group, Al Jehad and our Al Maqbool faced police raids. I, along with my other members of Al Maqbool was arrested. We were arrested under TADA. The act denied bail for sixteen months. We subsequently faced two year jail term. But not many endure the life of a prison. I could see how Mushtaq Latram broke down a number of times in jail. He held me responsible for his plight. But then, time passed on.

Mass Mobilisation

Two years later when we walked out of the prison, the preparations for an armed struggle were on full swing. I met one friend who told me: “Kashmiris are going for armed training to Pakistan administered Kashmir.”

His words also motivated me. I too made my mind to go for it. But Mushtaq Ul Islam stopped me, saying: “Stay back and guide aspiring Kashmiris from valley only.”

I agreed. But I had to start afresh. My parent outfit Al Maqbool had disintegrated. My former members had shifted their bases to other militant outfits. Everything was happening so fast. There was so much tension in the air.

A knock from HAJY Group

HAJY Group

And then one day in 1988, Javaid Mir, Ashfaq Majeed Wani and three others showed up at my residence. They gave me arms and ammo for custody. It was the beginning of armed uprising. They were fresh from their Azad Kashmir visit. They had received arms training. And also, they had brought lots of ammo with them. I was clearly instructed: “Take care of these sacks. They are loaded with bombs and weapons!”

In the afternoon of that day, Javed Ahmad Shawl, the man who was later put under enforced disappearance, saw the weapons at my home. He reprimanded me: “It might land you in jail once again.” I brushed his concern aside.

Later that day, as it started getting dark, I took out a pencil bomb from the sack and went to attack Khanyar Police Station. I bombed the police station and ran away.

A fresh Warrant

A month later, I learned that a fresh warrant has been issued against me. It was related to Omar Mukhtar incident. Section 112 was imposed on me. On the same day, I went to meet my lawyer at Srinagar’s Lower Court. While discussing the possibility of my case, someone shouted behind my back: “Hands Up!”

As I turned around, I saw a party of police and paramilitary personnel staring hard at me. I was handcuffed, taken outside the court and bundled inside a police jeep. I was taken to Rajbagh police station, which was turned into an interrogation centre.

For the first two days, I remained tight-lipped. But I was shocked when cops told me: “So, it is you who threw that bomb on Khanyar Police Station!” I feigned ignorance.

“Do you think, we don’t know anything about you,” the cops started grilling me. Many questions followed.

I soon learned that some CID man had spotted me while running from the spot after throwing that bomb. But I continued to plead innocence.

To break my resolve though, they arrested my mother. She was put behind the bars for three days. But even then, I didn’t confess. Be treouhes pate treodey, I was hooked to the ceiling. That torment continued for three days before I couldn’t take it anymore: “Okay, please leave me. Yes, I threw that bomb!”

But even then, I wasn’t taken down until I told them:
“I have arms and ammo at my home!” I was briskly taken down. And another spell of questioning began.

“Where from you get that?”

Fearing reprisals, I confessed: “I was given its custody by Javaid Mir and others.”

But before police could have raided my residence to seize the arms and ammo; my mother had already flushed them into Jhelum from Zaina Kadal.

Finally, they released my mother. And, I was taken to Central Jail after being slapped by Public Safety Act (PSA). Shortly, I was taken to Hiranagar Jail.

I met Mohammad Ashraf Sehrai, Ghulam Nabi Bhat and others there. Sehrai too was booked under PSA. He helped me to sustain in prison. He would recite Surah Yousuf to me whenever the longing for home would trouble me.

One year later, much to my surprise, Shabnum Gani Lone sent her lawyer with a bail for me. I was told by the jail authorities that my PSA has been quashed. In the beginning of 1990, I walked out of the jail.

Going Sarhad Paar

I had distanced myself from the freedom movement for a while after coming out of jail. But I couldn’t remain detached for too long. “Don’t sit idle. Prepare youth for Azad Kashmir,” my friend, a head of Al Jehad armed group, told me. He gave me Rs 10,000 as travel and food expenses. Already, some young men of my locality were insisting me to take them to Azad Kashmir for training. I called them up and we left for our destination.

“I am going to fetch charcoal consignment from Kupwara,” I told my mother before leaving. “I will be back soon.”

We met our guide at Kupwara who safely took us to Azad Kashmir. I saw a sea of Kashmiris already turned up for the armed training there. I and other nine Kashmiris were sent to Alaqaaye Gair for 40 days armed training. That area was surrounded by red mountains. Our training was similar to Pakistani army.

After training, we were taken to a camp in Muzaffarabad. I soon learned that launching of groups had been put on hold. With the result, I spent the next one year inside the camp itself.

Each one of us was given Rs 20 per day as pocket money, besides meals.

Salahudin and Green Army

Syed Salahudin

Almost one year had passed when I met Hizb chief, Syed Salahudin in the Pak camp. He was my good old friend. In the past, we were both associated with stone pelting. Besides, I had helped him during Muslim United Front (MUF) election in 1987. He told me: “Would you head a new party?”

“Which party?”

“Green Army,” he said.

“I will give you twenty guerrillas. Be the chief, return to valley and fight against the Indian occupation.”

I thought over his offer. And I soon realised that it was the only way for me to return to Kashmir. I accepted the deal.

“What I am expected to do?” I asked him.

“In the name of Green Army, you have to do one single action,” Salahudin said.

He handed over a letter to me. Besides, he gave me Rs 40,000 for journey back home.

“But I need a pistol,” I demanded.

“Don’t worry,” he assured, “you will be given one at PaK border.”

I was chosen Ameer or head of the group and left toward Pak border. We spent the first two days there.

I saw a group of young Kashmiris coming toward the border. They were coming for arms training. I saw a 8^th standard student barely 13-year-old in that group. After interaction, that boy cried and told me: “Please, take me back to mummy. I want to go back to my mummy…”

The boy kept insisting. The treacherous journey had disillusioned that kid from Srinagar’s Rainawari locality.

I met a Pakistani official at the border who was receiving the Kashmiri groups. I told him about that kid. “Just look yourself, who they are sending for arms training,” the official told me.

“So, what shall we do now,” I asked the official.

“Whatever you say,” the official replied.

“I want to take him back to Kashmir with me,” I said.

The official agreed.

As we were still on Pakistani border waiting for instructions, I told that boy: “Would you like to see Pakistan before returning home?”

“Yes,” he replied.

I gave Rs 2000 to one of my group members and told him to take the kid to Lahore and show him the Shahi Masjid and other places.

Two days later, they joined us back on the border. The kid was very happy.

Meanwhile, we were instructed to collect arms and ammo. We were provided with five guides. And each one of us was given Rs 1500.

The kid was also given weapons. But they were too heavy for him. I talked to the official: “Look, at least, the kid should be spared from weapons.” “It is mandatory,” he replied.

To relieve the kid from the burden of gun, I gave Rs 1500 to one of our five guides to carry his weapon. The Pakistani army bid us adieu near a mountain, saying: “Your journey begins now!”

Thus began a treacherous Journey

We began climbing the peaks. From 7 AM in the morning to 8 PM in the evening, we continued climbing. At one spot, our guides instructed us to take some rest. To our shock, four of our guides gave us slip and fled.

“Look, our guides have left us in this wilderness,” I told my group. “It is better that we should go back.” But my idea was strictly opposed.

“We have still one guide with us who can safely drop us at home,” one of my group members said.

“We are returning home after one year, we shouldn’t move back. And who knows, whether we will get another chance or not,” said another.

“I am the only brother among four sisters. I have already lived one and a half year without my family. We should try to move on,” one more said.

Everyone insisted for a homecoming.

Meanwhile, one night passed in the wild.

The next day, I enquired from our last and the only guide: “Do you know the way to reach valley?”

“Don’t worry, I will surely take you home,” he assured.

After this assurance, we started moving downhill.

In the mid-way, we saw another group of twenty boys returning from Azad Kashmir along with their five guides.

I told them to stay cautious and informed them how our guides ditched us. That was a Hizb group. They too made me their Ameer. And I began leading the two groups with total forty guerrillas.

Our guides clearly instructed us to move in a single line. Besides, instructed: “Don’t smoke!”

As we started trekking downhill, we saw nine tents pitched on the dry canal below. I sensed danger. “Let’s take other route,” I told our guides. “I think, it is dangerous to move ahead.”

But the guide assured: “Don’t worry about the tents. Nobody dwells inside them.”

With that assurance, we resumed our walk.

An Ambush

It was already getting dark. I heard some creeping noises while climbing down. I didn’t read much out of them. But the moment we passed by those tents, a thunderous gunfire shook us up. As I turned back, everyone had disappeared from my sight.

I ducked for the cover. And straight away, I spotted one of my group members falling flat on the ground. “Please, save me. I am the only brother of my five unmarried sisters,” he pleaded before me. “So am I,” I told him in an attempt to calm him down. We both stood motionless under grass. I began making sense of those creeping noises, which I had heard while climbing down the hill. Mixed feeling of both regret and rage overpowered me.

And just then, I turned my head around and spotted one guide ducked on ground. Bullets were being pumped on us from all sides. It was an ambush.

I grabbed the guide’s right hand and told him: “Let’s move back to uphill and help others there.” The guide abused me before saying: “If you want to die, go and die there. Don’t drag me into this anymore. My task was to take you from Pakistan to Kashmir. My task is over. Don’t expect any help from me now.”

He sounded outrageous. But I maintained my cool. He shortly resumed: “Better take those white shoes out. Or, you will be caught!” I did as he said. But the moment I took my gaze away from him, he quickly disappeared in that grass cover. Everything was happening so fast that my mind almost stopped working.

The two of us were still hiding under grass cover in that dry canal. After sometime, the firing stopped. Now, we started crossing the canal. And just then, I saw one group member lying dead in the middle of the canal.

My group member insisted to take that martyr out of the canal. As we moved closer to him, he was breathing. We put him in a grass and rubbed his feet to restore his consciousness. As he regained his senses, he told us that he had fallen from the hill when firing began. He had broken his front tooth and bruised his body. Due to the impact, he was lying unconscious in the canal. We spend that night hiding in the grass.

Deadly Announcement

The next day, army announcement through public address system woke us up: “If you surrender, we promise you safety, and safe passage to home.”

I could see huge posse of Indian army pouring on the spot through the grass cover. They soon conducted the search operation. They came closer to us. I instructed my two group members to stay quiet. But we cocked our guns and prepared to put up what appeared the last fight of our lives.

But four members of our group hiding nearby raised their arms up to surrender. In a flash, army men punctured their bodies with a barrage of bullets. They fell dead back in the grass. The announcement was nothing but a trap.

After a while, I saw three more group members appearing hands up from the snowbound hill nearby. They met the same fate. Every killing was simply distressing.

Unkept Promise

But probably what made me numb was the sight of that kid from Rainawari. I saw him lying dead in a pool of blood on snow. For the time being, his cries for mother echoed in my ears. His killing simply broke my heart. I am still feeling guilty for not arranging his reunion with his mother, his mummy.

For the next day and night, we remained hidden under grass cover before we decided to move on. “But where shall we go,” my two group members asked. “Let’s search for something. Or, we will die from hunger and exhaustion,” I replied.

I had a bullet wound on my toe. Besides our exhausted bodies wouldn’t carry weapons. So I bundled all the guns with my jacket and buried them under grass. We only carried bags and money with us.

For the next five days and nights, we wandered in the woods. We saw jackals and were almost frozen to death by the biting cold. But to our good luck, we saw an abandoned cottage. We lit fire there to warm ourselves.

As we resumed our walk, we shortly located a village. It was such a delightful sight. Soon we started planning our homecoming. “Let’s give Rs 40,000 to someone in the village to drop us home,” I told the duo with me. They agreed, but in a fit of joy, they said: “We should go back and collect our weapons.”

Those were incredible words I have heard from their mouths. I told them that it was silly on their part to even suggest resuming of that arduous journey. They understood. And we started moving toward the village.

A twisted Trap

As we inched closer to the village, Indian troops suddenly emerged from the ground and shouted: “Hands up!”

It was a shocking arrest. Our pockets were searched. They seized Rs 40,000 from my pocket. But surprisingly, they kept Rs 1500 back in the pockets of my two group members.

They had caught another five Kashmiri youth returning from training. They were not from our group. Their pockets were also searched. A big amount from their pockets was also seized.

Soon, army officer visited. He asked one among those five Kashmir youth: “Where have you kept your money?” The youth quite innocently replied: “Sir, your men have already taken that.”

The reply infuriated the officer. He flashed a sword and struck it hard on the throat of the youth. He bled profusely and fell dead to the ground.

I realised the cost of speaking truth. My two members quickly handed over their Rs 1500 each to army officer. But I had no money left. In fact, I had given my Rs 1500 granted to all of us on Pak border to a guide for lifting that kid’s weapons.

“Sir, I lost my money somewhere in the woods,” I told the officer. “So you lost your money, right?” he asked in a pretentious manner. I nodded in affirmation.

“Are you sure that none of us took your money?” he quizzed, to which I repeated my earlier reply. “Just listen, what this man is saying,” he almost shrilled. “We are not thieves. I killed this man because he made a serious allegation against us!”

A Slip

Later that evening, we were called inside the tent. And, one by one, we faced the queries of the high-ranking army officer. We hadn’t yet revealed to them that we were coming from Azad Kashmir.

“So what brought you here?” the officer asked me.

“Sir, I along with my group was going for arms training to Muzafarabad. But sudden firing dispersed us and we kept roaming in these woods.”

But one of my two group members told the officer: “We were returning to valley after arms training. Also, we have abandoned our weapons in the woods.”

I couldn’t blame him for telling the truth. We could literally see death staring at us.

The officer then called some army men. He directed them to accompany us to recover the dumped weapons.

A Morgue inside Jungle

We were thrashed on our way back to jungle. For three days and nights, we roamed tirelessly. Much to our shock, we saw scores of Kashmiri youth martyred in that jungle. Most of the dead bodies were still oozing blood. Some bodies were disfigured. A few of them were brutally cut. I don’t have proper words to describe that scene.

“Please allow us to bury them,” I requested the accompanying army major. But his reply shocked us more: “How many will you bury? This jungle is full of such bodies! Be ready, you are soon joining them.”

A few kilometres ahead, we were left even more shocked. We saw the bodies of slain Kashmiri youth hanging from the tree branches. It was so scary; rather, a nightmarish sight. “Can we please bring them down?” I asked the major. But he gave me his usual reply: “Don’t plead for them. Think of yourself. You will be also hanged like this, if you fail to recover those weapons.”

The Scandalous Secret

At last, we reached near the canal where we were ambushed. “We did that firing,” the major revealed, “and killed 27 armed trained Kashmiri youth.” It was an unexpected revelation. Somehow, I began joining the dots. The series of incidents that happened to us while returning from PaK made a perfect sense now. Everything seemed scripted: Fleeing of our four guides, uninhabited tents in canal, mysterious disappearance of our fifth guide and the army ambush.

The major, meanwhile, continued: “Rest of you managed to give us a slip. And I know it, you three are among those survivors.”

We searched for the weapons. They were untraced. This annoyed the army party who informed the officer at base camp through wireless: “Sir, these men are cheats. They are only buying time. They have no weapons.” The officer instructed them: “Kill them and return.”

Our ropes were untied. Three of us were lined up in a single row. After chanting some mantra, they pointed their guns at us. They were about to shoot when I suddenly cried out: “Please wait!”

They lowered their guns: “What happened?” In a trembling voice, I requested: “Sir, may we offer one last prayer before death?”

The request was accepted. With no water around we went ahead with our prayers. We cried a lot during prayer. As we knew that this would be our last prayer.

We were again made to stand in a single line. They again cocked their guns and pointed them at us. They were about to pull the trigger, when I again shouted: “Wait!”

The army major pushed up the muzzle of the gun. A bullet pierced through the air. My memory had rushed back. “I have kept the weapons under that grass cover,” I told the major.

But a junior rank army officer confronted the major: “We should have killed them on first day itself. But you seem to have a soft corner for them. It is already fifth day, damn it! They are getting on our nerves. Why can’t we kill them and leave?”

“Look, I am answerable to higher ups, not you,” the major replied. “I know these buggers are lying. Let’s give them one last chance. We otherwise have to kill them, right?”

The major took me to the spot. And much to our relief, I found the weapons wrapped inside my jacket.

“Did you see that,” the major told his subordinate, spreading a deep smile of conquest. “I wasn’t letting them to take us for a ride for nothing. I knew what I was doing.”

Spitting Spree

We were soon taken to Machil village. Indian army ordered all villagers to come out of their homes and assemble inside an open field. After all had assembled, the army ordered each and every villager to spit on our faces!

Those villagers were helpless. They were forced to oblige the order. Some of them even whispered an apology while spitting on us.

After spitting, army directed us to chant a slogan: “One who aspires to go to Pakistan is a bastard!” In presence of whole village, we kept chanting till our throats dried up. Later we were dragged to a nearby army camp.

The Scripted Ploy

Inside the camp, I was taken to the room of the army officer. I saw the same letter in his hand, which Syed Salahudin gave me before leaving the training camp in Azad Kashmir.

“So you belong to Green Army, eh?”

I feigned ignorance and replied: “I don’t know what you are talking about?”

“Look, don’t try to be so smart with me, okay?” he warned. “I have read the letter. It carries your name: Noor Mohammad Katjoo alias Haider. I also know that Salahuddin has asked you to drop this letter at an address in old Srinagar’s Kawa Mohalla.”

The officer caught me totally off guard. He seemed to know everything about the plan.

He then tore the letter into pieces and put it inside a coal blazer in his room.

“I want you to understand something very clearly: Just forget Azadi! You will never get that,” the officer boasted. I stood motionless.

“Do you know something? We were waiting to hunt you down in the woods,” he revealed, making my doubts clear. “But you took two extra days to show up. You were returning from PaK with a group of twenty men, weren’t you? But you surprised us when instead of twenty, you came with forty. We gunned down 27 in your group near the canal, besides arresting other 10. And then we laid a trap to hunt three of you down…”

“But how did you know about us and our plan?” I interrupted.

He smirked before replying: “Who else can inform us than your own people! We even knew the route you were coming from.”

The officer melted away all my doubts. Our guides were indeed our tormentors!

A doomed torture

The three of us were imprisoned in Machil camp. We were tied with a single rope. Our hands were tied. They would drop our food on a cement floor before directing us: “Eat like a dog!”

Inside our prison cell was a tin box. We used it for peeing. We were denied drinking water. Instead, we were made to drink urine stored in that tin box for about 15 to 20 days. The torture didn’t end there. Army men used to beat us with high tension wire. Besides, they continuously slammed my head with the wall. As a result, I suffered from a serious concussion.

After twenty days, we were shifted to another camp where a fresh spell of torture started. Shortly after that, we were taken to Badami Bagh Cantonment for 70 days. After receiving a renewed interrogation at Badam Bagh, we were shifted to Kot Bhalwal for one year. And then, we were shifted to Ramnagar where I was finally bailed out after four months.

A deteriorated daredevil 

When I walked out of the jail in the later part of 1992, I was rendered neurologically weak. Due to those impacts, I often lose my consciousness in marketplaces, home and while walking.

I was a daredevil, but army torture simply deteriorated me.

My family also suffered with me. I lost my mother. Besides my eldest brother-in-law Ghulam Hassan Beg was gunned down by unknown gunmen when I was in jail. All my sisters are married now.

I have a 17-year-old daughter. My monthly income is Rs 2700, that too given by JKLF. But my treatment cost me much more.

***

The End of Regal Cinema.

To screen normalcy, government tried to open three of the total nine cinemas in Srinagar in later part of nineties. But a grenade blast outside Regal on its first day of reopening in 1999 not only pulled down its shutters, but also devoured one precious life.

After the incident, the government immediately closed the Regal. While Neelam and Broadway continued to run amid tight security before they made hotel out of Broadway.

Now, Regal is totally disintegrated to replay the movie that created a militant mood among masses. And the rebel has been rendered too weak to repeat what ‘immortalised’ his act.

Show might be over, but the showman lives on.

Perhaps, Omar Mukhtar was right, when he said: “I will live longer than my hangman.”

With NC veteran leader Sheikh Nazir Ahmad laid to rest, Kashmir Life reproduces here a longish blog of his nephew and former Chief Minister Omar Abdullah. Written on May 2008, that was peak of Omar’s blogging – a practice he later abandoned because of personal abuse, this unedited blog offers a first hand account of what Omar thought of Sheikh Nazir, and his own father and grand father

NC leaders paying obeisance to Sheikh Nazir at Sher-e-Kashmir Bhawan Jammu

This one has no title because its not a planned, thought out post. Its simply my reaction to some of the stuff that has been said. While I’m not aiming any shots at any of the people who have responded or posted messages on this blog as my mum always said “if the cap fits wear it”.

Lets start with Sheikh Abdullah – yes he is my grandfather and yes its difficult to be objective but even a blind man can see that he had great qualities. He never claimed to be perfect nor do we in the NC claim that he was. He was human and carried the baggage that any (or after reading this blog you’d have to say almost any) human being carried. That having been said he struggled for a cause and suffered himself. He went to jail, he spent time in exile, he was interrogated but he didn’t sit back and let others do the fighting for him. He didn’t hand over guns to poor Kashmiri boys and keep his own kids out of harms way. He didn’t shut down profitable business establishments through hartals and civil strikes while building his own big palaces.

Sheikh Mohammad Abdullah.

Sheikh Abdullah did what he thought was best for his people and the people responded in kind. Some will argue that his decision in 1947 was wrong – looking at the present state of Pakistan and the side of Kashmir with it, I can’t see how they can justify that argument. Was independence an option? Sure let’s ask the tibetans about how it is to survive as an independent country with China, India and Pakistan for neighbours. Lets ask Afghanistan what it is like to be a mountainous land locked country in the region with precious little natural wealth, or Nepal for that matter. It’s all very well to dream and base those dreams on theoretical models of self sufficiency looking at Switzerland and places like that but Kosovo would be a better long term model to look at. We had a cold war, we had two blocks and two choices – India or Pakistan.

Sheikh Abdullah signed an accord in 1975 and disbanded the Plebiscite front. Some will argue that this was a betrayal and they would not be completely wrong in as much as he settled without getting what he set out to get but look at the circumstances that prevailed at the time. We can’t take the luxury of looking at events in isolation and pass judgment. Yes, he signed an accord but look at what was happening around him – Pakistan had not only lost a war it had been dismembered, the Simla Agreement had been signed that promised to resolve the Kashmir issue and Indira Gandhi was being compared to Goddess Durga.

Under these circumstances Sheikh Abdullah felt that he had to get the best that he could for the people and the people agreed with him. Any Kashmir expert worth his or her salt will agree that the 1977 election was the freest and fairest election the state has ever seen and the people stood behind Sheikh Abdullah and continued to stand behind him till he was laid to rest. Has any leader in Kashmir had a funeral on the scale that Sheikh Abdullah had in 1982? I think not, that having been said those that are ideologically opposed to him will remain so – such is life.

Much is said about my father and by the grace of God he’s still alive and kicking and doesn’t need me to set the record straight for him he does it for himself. Junaid mentioned that he danced when a Pakistani wicket fell. I wonder why the Pakistani wicket mattered so much because he dances whenever he watches a match and India takes a wicket. He makes no bones about where his loyalties lie and is not hypocritical about it. Time will tell how what he did, what he does and what he’ll do will be judged. Lets not be too quick to rush in and pass judgement ourselves as yet.

Politicians have let Kashmiris down – sure we have. But what of the engineers and officials who were hand in glove with us? What of those trusted individuals who on a meagre salary have built palaces and sent their children to the choicest colleges paying hundreds of thousands of rupees? Those that built roads that only existed on paper, ordered pipes that continue to rust decades later, drew salaries as doctors from the state while continuing to practice in the Gulf or UK – do they bear no responsibility for the suffering of the people? Two wrongs don’t make a right (another thing my mum always says) but then people living in glass houses should be very careful where they throw stones (yet another of mum’s gems). As a politician I have let the people of my state down but I had a lot of willing and able supporters along the way.

If I am a hypocrite because I draw my salary from the Parliament of India and I still criticise India for the excesses in my state – so be it. I’ll live with being a hypocrite because it’s better than living as a mute spectator. I live with it because I am equally critical of the excesses of the militants. If I am critical of India’s actions in Kashmir, I am critical of Pakistan’s as well. I do a job as a member of Parliament but I haven’t sold my soul. I don’t visit the Indian Home Ministry or the Pakistani High Commission (or in some cases both together) to collect my monthly dole.

Sheikh Nazir

But what of those who travel the world talking about the illegal nature of India’s occupation of Kashmir and do so on an INDIAN passport? These are people who feel so strongly about the disputed nature of Kashmir but will happily fill a landing card and mention citizenship of India. I have an uncle who more often than not I disagree with but I admire the conviction he has – he disagrees with what happened in 1947 and subsequent events and so refuses to carry a passport. He has never applied for one. For the longest time he never left the state and only travelled by road between Jammu and Srinagar because he refused to travel on ‘Indian Airlines’.

Coming to events of the last seventeen years I will only touch on a few things that come to mind because a lot of this blog is going to be taken up by this period so no point writing it all in one post. That the Indian security forces are guilty of some of the most horrible excesses is a given and I don’t dispute that. I don’t condone what was done and am a firm believer that the truth must emerge and the guilty must be punished. This must be done in a transparent manner. I have talked about the need for a truth and reconciliation commission and will write in greater detail about this in a subsequent post.

While agreeing that nothing can justify the extra-judicial killings, the rapes, the torture, I have to ask the question – was there any of this happening before militancy started in the late 80’s? Before some of you rush in and go for my jugular claiming that I am using militancy to justify these things let me make clear that I am NOT. NOTHING can justify what the people have had to go through but to suggest that the people of Kashmir have been subjugated and brutalized for six decades is to stretch things way too far.

I don’t recall crack downs and searches before 1990, as I don’t recall arrogant convoy commanders on our roads before that either. I recall wives of Indian Army officers teaching me in school. I recall going to the homes of school friends whose fathers were in the army and playing with other ‘C’ type kids all day.

Incidentally while it is always unfair to use broad strokes to paint everyone and catagorise then simplistically like one of us has done with his ‘A’ ‘B’ and ‘C’ groupings it was fun to see the reaction that ensued. The glass houses sprung to mind again.

Its so easy to say that we’ll lay down our lives to bring Kashmiri pandits back to the valley and I appreciate the sentiment as I’m sure the Kashmiri Pandits reading it will. Pity that sentiment was missing when our mosques were being used to drive these people out. None of us was willing to stand up and be counted when it mattered. None of us grabbed the mikes in the mosques and said this is wrong and the Kashmiri Pandits had every right to continue living in the valley. Our educated, well to do relatives and neighbours were spewing venom twenty four hours a day and we were mute spectators either mute in agreement or mute in abject fear, more often than not it was muteness driven by fear because the guns turned against the Pandits found their target elsewhere as my party workers found, but mute none the less.

And talking about mosques – what a great symbol of mass uprising they proved to be. While I can’t claim to have lived through it I have enough friends who did and they tell me about the early 90’s where attendance was taken in mosques at prayer time. If one missed a prayer in the mosque the neighbourhood enforcement committee knocked on the door and sought an explanation, usually with a few gun men present to ensure the message was received loud and clear. People were forced out of their homes to participate in ‘mass uprisings’ against Indian “occupation” and the same enforcement committees went from door to door forcing people to march.

While I don’t deny that the overwhelming majority of people rose in anger in the early 90’s there are two sides to every story and we need to look at both or we risk losing our objectivity. Shop signs were painted green and white in Islamic colours and people were forced to set their watches to Pakistan standard time. As if these two things would make the dream of independence any easier to achieve – amazing how quickly peeople rediscovered the old colours when they could make a choice again.

This post has been a little more long winded than I had expected but then Omar Khayyam once said -

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,

Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit

Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,

Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it

I’ve written as I felt and to be honest with you I’ve enjoyed writing every word of it.

Angry young man Sajjad Gani Lone built his political career on controversies. Finally he reached the cabinet as a BJP ally but is unhappy with the department he is supposed to run. R S Gull argues that the vital operational ministry could help the “London trained statistician” to do larger good to his career than the bulls he thinks he will have to manage

Sajjad Gani Lone loves controversies. In the last week of February when the PDP and BJP were busy sealing the deal on government formation, Sajjad was camping in Jammu. Barely a few days ahead of the March 1, he had flown to Srinagar. The reason was that the BJP ally could not manage his room in the cabinet.

Well before he landed in Srinagar, the story was out. Mufti does not want Sajjad in the government. ‘Well informed’ even reported that key player in PDP – Ms Mehbooba Mufti and Dr Haseen Drabu had “sent a note” to BJP playing against the young Lone, who covered a lot of distance from separatist camp to join the unionism.

PDP said they had no role. “It was a crisis between the two allies – the BJP and the Peoples Conference,” one insider said. “We had the feeling that he wanted a key ministry and BJP was unwilling that is it.”

Well informed sources said inclusion of Lone in the cabinet was never on the table till the two parties sealed the deal. At one point of time, the name cropped up. “Our position was clear – let the two principal parties get a common ground, then the issue of allies of the parties will be taken care of,” one insider said. “The deal was done and there was no talk”. Later, Lone was stationed in Srinagar and BJP indicated he was not joining. “Then the communication came that he is joining and the name was included,” sources said. Lone was asked to take oath and he had to literally rush on the rundown highway during night to ensure he is in Jammu to take oath. An excited Lone reached in time but was so tired that he read the oath and forgot to sign the mandatory paper!

PDP wanted the position of Speaker and lawyer Abdul Haq Khan was being considered. Once Lone joined cabinet, PDP decided against having the Speaker’s position and sought a berth in exchange thus taking Khan as a minister for obvious reasons to manage a balance in the north Kashmir region. He finally became the minister and was clicked sitting in his chamber. Then hell broke lose.

For the second time in less than a week, Lone took another flight, landed in Srinagar and rushed to Handawra. This time his grouse was different, his allocation of the department. He thinks Animal Husbandry and Science and Technology is not weighty. He left his security detail, his official car in Jammu and literally fled. Now a sulking Lone is reportedly consulting his party in Handwara. Things on table or whether or not to continue with such a petty portfolio!

But the people in policy making in Delhi and in Jammu are keenly watching the tamasha of a so-called separatist who was baptized into unionism but wants it big. Usually the ministers look for challenges to deliver and for Lone, a London read statistician, the department should have been a challenge.

Animal husbandry is a department that touches almost two-third families living from the urban jungles of Jammu and Srinagar cities. It is part of life and it is big money – eggs, poultry, milk, mutton, beef, butter, ghee and wool. The sector is more than Rs 10,000 crore strong and interventions can help change the fortunes of the people involved. In the last almost a decade, the focus is on important substitution to poultry and imports have barely been reduced by 10 per cent which means the capacity to work is enormous.

Kashmir is a net importer of all the vital fast consumed items (see table) and anybody who makes a net difference in the imports replacing by local produce will move out with a star. It is a story of tens of thousands of jobs outside the secretariat, in the meadows and pastures in which north Kashmir is abundant. In fact, whatever the net improvement made in last few years on the entrepreneurship scene was mostly done in poultry sector. It has so serious significance in the market that part of an industrial estate was given for bird rearing in Pulwama.

In 2011-12, 40675600 kgs of mutton was imported and it was capital flight of Rs 1300 crore. Sajjad is a statistician and can well evaluate what challenges are there in the import of poultry, eggs and milk.

Challenges are beyond these items. Does he know about wool? Kashmir produces 7.5 million kgs of wool a year and lack of processing forces growers to sell it at throwaway costs!

Lone must know that Pashmina is a massive challenge. The goats living in Changthang region of Ladakh have been undergoing massive climatic massacres over the winters, periodically. With these goats is linked Kashmir’s shawl, the heritage sector that fetches the valley nearly Rs 1400 crores a year. Very recently, the SKUAST had managed raising the first Pashmina goat in Srinagar. With Science and Technology in his hand, can Sajjad take these goats to Kargil, Drass and if possible, to Bangus valley!

Lone is angry, young, energetic and seeking challenges. Why does not he read in between the lines and take the challenge head on. In fact, this portfolio holds the future for tens of thousands of people. He can change his area of influence using the strong potential his assigned portfolio has. He can make a big change in import substitution by creating thousands of diary units, sheep farms and wool processing plants. He should know, every day nearly 1500 liters of mill – mostly from sheep – gets waste in Bangus valley alone because there is no facility to get it down the slopes for marketing.

Lone must accept the challenge and give the traditional sector a modern direction. Next election when somebody approaches Lone with the famous lullaby ‘Baba black sheep, do you have any wool?’ he must be in a position to flatly refuse any wool saying: I have nothing for Ludhiana, I use it here now.

Is it the kick that makes one steal petty things like plants, manhole covers, railings, telephone cables, flower pots etc or the money behind it. Syed Asma reports the small thefts that make big differences

Representational Image

Hafeeza, a well dressed, be-spectacled lady, who is in her late fifties, and hails from a well-off family, is waiting anxiously outside proctor Kashmir University’s office. Most of the people around look confused by her presence in the waiting lounge. But once they learn the reason of her presence, they could not stop busting into fits of laughter. But a glance at her elderly face makes them correct their expressions.

Hafeeza, who lives in adjacent posh Nigeen area was caught red handed stealing plants from the university garden by a gardener.

“Steal plants?” the proctor asks. “Are you sure?” the proctor questions the gardener. “Yes sir, I saw her and many others taking away young shoots from our garden. And today I caught her red handed,” the gardener explains. Repeating the question, he exchanges a glance with Hafeeza. “Did she steal plants?” he asks while pointing towards Hafeeza. Yes, the gardener replies holding the recovered shoots in his hand.

The lady has no explanation. She dumps herself in the chair blushing, perhaps embarrassed for what she has done.

“We have lot of similar cases registered with us where people usually coming here for morning walks, steals things from the campus. The new trend is to steal young shoots and plants from the campus gardens,” says a former proctor of KU.

“What can you tell an elderly lady who seems to hail from a well-to-do family? It is embarrassing for me. What made her to do so, I fail to understand. These plants just cost a few hundred rupees,” the proctor laughs.

Petty theft like these are embarrassing when the guilty is caught red-handed, the gardener shares while replanting those shoots.

In last few years there has been a rise in such petty thefts where unknown men steal things of low value. But these small items like public park railings, manhole covers, telephone cables, switches and bulbs from the electric poles cause much inconvenience to the public.

Stealing switches and bulbs from electric poles is a norm in housing colonies. Mehraj Ahmed, a resident of Lal Bazar, has an incident to share: “I have spent more on the bulbs of my nearby electric pole than what I spent on the bulbs at my home. It used to vanish every second day.”

It has been a month since Ahmed has purchased a bulb for this pole. They now chose to be in darkness.

Sharing a few incidents Ishtaq Ahmed, an Engineer in the drainage system managed by Srinagar Municipal Committee says “we were compelled to use cemented manhole covers because of repeated complaints about the coverless manholes”.

He explains that the department initially used metallic covers which people used to take away during night and leave the manholes coverless. This resulted in causalities. Because of this numerous oldies, children and animals got injured across city in past many years.

“Cemented covers are a bit heavy to carry but at some places they too were stolen.”

Besides, Ishtaq, an in-charge of SMC’s beautification project shares a few more interesting thefts as well.

A couple of years ago, SMC had started a ‘green and clean city’ project. Under this project they [SMC] decorated the city, mostly Lal Chowk, with flower pots and had placed dust bin at various spots.

Ishtaq shares an anecdote: “I had once gone on-site inspection in Lal Chowk and caught a man loading SMC’s flower pots in his load-carrier. By the time I reached near him, he drove away immediately and left a few pots there. I managed to get his photograph though.”

Ishtaq say they have lodged many FIRs in concerned police stations, sometimes the accused were held and things were recovered but on most of the occasions they were not.

Apart from the flower pots, metallic dustbins were taken too, which compelled the department to get non-metallic bins, which look like plastic bins.

“Despite all odds we try to do our work and replace these things in time to avoid public inconvenience.”

Petty thefts are of different natures but at times have larger impact.

It is for the third time that telecommunication and internet in Pampore town is disrupted. The disruption is not because of bad weather or incompetence of the department but because of a few men who take pleasure in stealing the underground telephone cables.

Nazir Ahmed Dar, SDA Pulwana shares, “It is irksome not only for the locals but is hectic for the staff as well. Every now and then they have to replace the underground telephone lines.”

“The thieves stole 400 pair underground cable at least thrice. It would fetch them good. They take the rubber out, melt the metal present inside and then sell both the things off separately.”

A few months ago in Pampore, he remembers, a 100 pair cable, and in Shopian a 50 pair underground cable was stolen.

Dar says, earlier only over-head cables were stolen which we could detect and manage more easily. The trend of stealing underground cables started after floods. The bund breached at many places from Pampore to Islamabad made these cables naked and visible. “People now come, cut few meters and run away. It is their new occupation now,” says Dar sarcastically.

At a few kilometers from Pampore town, in Pantha chowk, burglars have created fear after they stole more than hundred batteries in Pantha Chowk and its adjoining areas like Zewan and Khanmoah.

They targeted heavy vehicles like tipper, trucks and buses which are usually parked on road sides, the locals share.

The locals say, “Thieves had hired a Chevrolet Tavera for stealing these batteries. The taxi owner was paid Rs 5000 per night for his services.”

In the wake of tragedy, a JCB driver kept his nerves intact to excavate 15 bodies from the fateful Laden house. Saima Bhat reports the heroics of Rasik Ahmad Magrey who trekked through rugged terrains on his beasty machine to answer an unlikely distress call

A man stands near the collapsed house in Budgam’s Ladden village.
Pics: Bilal Bahadur

On the intervening night of March 29 and 30, at around 1 AM, Rasik Ahmad Magrey, 27, a JCB operator by profession received a panicky call on his cell phone. It was from the local police station Chadoora. Within an hour Magrey along with his JCB was standing outside the police station along with 15 other excavators from nearby areas.

The panicky officer told them that there has been a tragedy in remote Laden village. “There has been a mudslide in Laden area, in which a number of houses got buried. Around 16 members of two families are buried in the slide. We have to get them out.”

Keeping in view the non connectivity of road, where locals have to trek for at least 3 kilometers from the last motorable road it was impossible to reach the village along with an excavator. Magrey says, “From that last road, all other JCB drivers refused to move forward.”

“At around 3 AM of Monday I, along with the rescue team of police started our journey through the sloppy trek for Karewa’s of Laden. Deep in my heart it felt like I am not going to return alive. Then I called my parents, as if I was talking to them for the last time. They prayed for my safety and I moved forward.” he said.

On way to Laden, which is around 15 kms away from Chadoora, Magrey was thinking about the families, whom he was going to ‘save’. “I had a notion that it is a forest area and most likely the collapsed houses must not be concrete. So, may be the members of those families must be alive. What if my effort could save their life?” with all these things going in mind, Magrey moved ahead.

When Magrey reached at the spot, it was 1 PM and the rescue operation was already started by locals, state police and army personnel. The mud heaps of about 15 feet high had settled so silently as if nothing had happened.

The operation of extracting bodies continued amid heavy rains. On the first day rescue operation started from 1 PM and it continued till 3 AM of Tuesday when 15 bodies were recovered from debris of the mudslide.

All the victims belonged to two families who after the rains on March 29 decided to stay together. Mohammad Shabaan and his four family members including the three week old baby took refuge in the house of their neighbor, Ghulam Nabi Hajam considering the latter’s house comparatively safer from his own. However, fate had something else in store for the two families as the house was buried into earth, leaving no trace of the two storied building.

The residents said it was around midnight they were awakened by a sudden thud and shaking of earth. As they came out of their beds they saw cracks had developed in some houses. However, they were shocked to see Hajam’s house completely vanished.

Hundreds of people from the nearby villages gathered at the spot waiting for some miracle to happen so that people under the debris are brought out alive. But chances of any survivors were dashed when the rescuers pulled out 15 bodies out from the debris.

The bodies include three weeks old baby, who was not even named. He was found in the lap of his mother Ruksana. After the bodies were recovered the local imam named the three week old baby Muhammad Aslam. One body, of 6 to 10 years old boy was still missing.

“I worked tirelessly without any break. We all were without any food and water. Nothing was available there, not even water.  But by 3 AM, my body refused to work; my eyes were not able to see anything. So I asked the SHO I can’t work anymore, who decided to call it a day and we trekked down to the police station where we reached at 4:30 AM. He managed to get some food but I slept only after having water.”

It was only after a sleep of 4 hours; the team woke up and went back for the rescue operation as one body was still missing. At around 10 AM of Tuesday the team reached on the spot again and started with their operation till 6 PM.

But the body was still missing. On this day, Magrey says continuous rains hampered their work. “I had to dig mud with care because a simple mistake could have given scratch on any dead person’s body.”

On third day, Wednesday, the rescue operation started again at 10 AM and continued till 10 PM. But the last body was not recovered. On Thursday Magrey says they reached at the plinth of those houses but still they couldn’t find the body of missing boy.

Rasik Ahmad Magrey with other operators .

“I am restless till the body of that boy is found. We are doing what can be done but it is all up to Allah now,” says Magrey. On Thursday, the team was going to shift back the mud mounts back to look for the boy. At the same time he said he was upset with the approach of locals, who had come to the area just to pass their day. “Out of the thousands of people at the spot, 80 per cent people had kept their mobile phones focused on that how bodies will be extracted and only 20 percent of them were helping us.”

On Friday, the operation started again but this time it was without any excavating machine. Arshid Khan, SHO Chadoora said, “The JCB is non functional now as it has suffered huge losses and no other driver agrees to trek up to this place. We have started the operation manually now but this way it is going to take 10-12 days to search through the huge mud mounds.”

Meanwhile he adds, “It was not possible to recover all bodies on the very first day without the help of excavator. It was only because of this driver and his two other companions, that we could manage it so fast. They worked tirelessly. And now we are helpless without them.”

The victim families now have only one survivor among the 12 member family, Shabir Ahmad Hajam, son of Ghulam Nabi Hajam who was not in the village on the fateful night. He is in a state of shock.

On that day, he was supposed to be a part of a family get-together where they were going to fix the date of marriage for the eldest son and two daughters of the family.

Due to heavy rains, Shabir could not reach his home and he stayed back at a relative’s home in a neighboring hamlet.

Shabir runs a barber shop at Nowgam on the outskirts of Srinagar and was going to return home after two months. But neither his home nor his family members are there anymore.

No one understands Kashmiri society like Dr Bashir Ahmad Dabla. Despite suffering from Parkinson’s disease for last 15 years, the professor refuses to give up. Syed Asma profiles the man and his struggle

Dr Bashir Ahmad Dabla

Dr Bashir Ahmed Dabla’s work is worth admiring! He celebrated his sixtieth birthday this year. Sixty, an age set to get retired from any institution but his enthusiasm and commitment towards work compelled the university authorities to give him an extension of two more years.

What makes his story more inspiring and worth admiring is the way he is living his life. Fifteen years ago Dr Dabla was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. This did not affect his life in anyway, he says, as he continued to work at the same pace.

He remembers when he was in Mangalore where after presenting one of his papers he went for site seeing to a nearby beach. The cold waves around disturbed him a bit and he felt dizzy. He came home after the conference concluded but was a bit curious about the dizziness symptom.

“I wanted to go for a general medical investigation to know why it happened,” remembers Dabla. Wanting to end his curiosity he visited many health centres from Delhi to Europe and finally in Birmingham he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s. Being young and passionate about his work, the diagnosis did not affect him in anyway. He, almost every year, comes up with a book and a research paper. So far he has published dozens of books, hundreds of papers and has visited six of seven continents in the world.

“Only Australia is left now,” says Dabla with a smile.

“When I was diagnosed with this disease I was quite young. It didn’t change anything apart from an addition of a mild drug dose in my schedule. But today things are a bit complicated.”

Parkinson’s disease is a degenerative disorder of central nervous system. The person diagnosed with the degenerative illness has to brave a couple of odds including irregular body shakes, body rigidity, slowness of movement, difficulty with walking and dementia.

Dabla in the past decade has defied all these weakness and has contributed to the sociological archives. He is always seen busy with books – either reading them or writing some of his own, says his acquaintances. Being a sociologist, he has extensively studied the society of Kashmir. His works acts as  a ‘wikipedia window’ into Kashmiri society. He has analysed a Kashmiri child, men, woman, family structure, domestic violence, labour exploitation, conflict from a larger theme of occupation.

Serving the department as a head for twenty years, he believes, every subject, especially social sciences, should be taught in the local context. “If I am offering a master’s program in Sociology in University of Kashmir, it is important for the students to understand broader sociological theories through the prism of their local society. It gives them a better understanding,” says Dr Dabla.

A thin man, wearing simple attire, Prof Dabla is a soft spoken person. Everyone in the department, from a helper to his colleagues respect and describe him as an inspiring figure. “He is always into books,” says one of his research scholars.

Born in Nowhatta, Srinagar Prof Dabla after doing his graduation moved to Delhi. He spent seven years doing his masters, M.Phil and PhD from Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU) and became first Kashmiri Muslim to earn a doctorate in Sociology.

Dr Dabla’s various publications.

He owes his commitment towards his work to the seven years he spent in JNU. “As I was the first Muslim Kashmiri to earn a PhD in Sociology I thought I would be welcomed back home, but that wasn’t the case,” says Dabla. He was jobless for a good amount of time which compelled him to visit the then Chief Minister (CM), Farooq Abdullah.

Dabla remembers, he [Farooq Abdullah] was quite impressed by my qualification and told me to join the gang of his press officers which included Raja Muzzafar from University of Jammu and Farooq Nazki, a poet. In the meantime he was also appointed as an assistant director social welfare but continued to be the press officer at CM’s office.

As a press officer Dabla handled foreign correspondents who would come to interview Farooq. Besides he would write his press release and speeches.

Dr Dabla remembers Farooq as a practical person but a non-serious politician. He used to solve problems of commoners giving practical solutions but never took his political career seriously.

Dabla has a few interesting anecdotes.

Once some villagers visited former Chief Minister [Farooq Abdullah] with a plea that Army is eyeing a large piece of land in their area but they [villagers] are reluctant to surrender. Instead of consulting the Army officer, Farooq came up with an innovative idea. “Unload few truck loads of bricks inside that ground and erect a board reading ‘Makhbar-i-ahli-Islam’. I am sure you will be saved,” laughs out Dabla, “and his idea worked.”

But, Dabla opines, the non-serious attitude of Farooq towards his political career led Ghulam Mohammed Shah to topple his government.

He remembers, few days before the government was toppled, a French reporter had informed Farooq that Indira Gandhi is planning to use Shah against him, but he did not do anything. “I believe he could have easily saved the regime then.”

After the government was toppled, Shah’s men transferred Dabla to far off Gool Gulabgadh area in Ramban district. “A career in the department of Social welfare never impressed me. I always wanted to become an academician. So, I moved to Aligarh Muslim University and got a job as Assistant Professor.”

After spending five long years working with the Indian Muslims Dabla got an opportunity to start department of Sociology at the University of Kashmir. It was Farooq Abdullah who recommended Dabla’s name to the then Vice Chancellor, Musheer-ul-Haq.

Haq, Dabla believes, was a man with strong credentials who rarely worked to please the political figure. He [Haq] was the man of principles and a good administrator.

Working at home is always good, believes Dabla. “I had an offer from one of the universities of Africa but I preferred to work in Kashmir.”

Dabla joined University of Kashmir in 1989 – the year when armed militancy challenging India’s rule started in Kashmir. Hazratbal and the adjoining areas were scarcely populated then and thus used to be den for militants.

“I am not against armed resistance but it was hurtful when a few youngsters used it for their petty issues.”

Dabla remembers instances where district commanders used their positions and guns to leak examination papers or to pass their semester examinations.

“I once had disqualified a girl who happened to be sister of a commander of some little known organisation. He came into my room putting gun on my head. Sometimes we did compromise but at times we successfully fought,” recalls Dr Dabla.

After talking to Kashmir Life for an hour he gets back into the pool of pages scattered on his table. These pages would soon be compiled into a book, he concludes.

There was a time when watches would fascinate people. Not anymore. Defying change, an octogenarian shopkeeper is trying his bit to keep the hands of clock ticking in Shehr-e-Khaas. Sehar Qazi tells his story

I have studied till 6th standard at Jabrie Sakool (forced schools),” recalls Ghulam Nabi Sheikh (in picture).

Ghulam Nabi Sheikh, who is in his early 80s, wearing a grey pheran with black dots, white and dark green knitted prayer cap and old shoes, is sitting behind a small glass-topped counter. He doesn’t recall his exact age. But a look at his wrinkled visage, his free flowing grey beard, and his single decaying tooth takes you back to some eight decade. Or perhaps more!

He sells watches. Of all sizes, colours, makes that used to fascinate passerby’s visiting Jamia Masjid in the heart of Srinagar.

With modern technology fast making watches and the people selling them irrelevant Sheikh is trying to fight the odds. He is perhaps one of the last few remaining timekeepers in Kashmir’s oldest market place called Sheh-e-Khaas.

But as it goes, every timekeeper has a story to tell. And Sheikh’s story starts from the days when kids were dragged to schools by policemen and not accompanied by their parents!

“I have studied till 6th standard at Jabrie Sakool (forced schools),” recalls Sheikh while dusting watches hanging behind him.

Jabrie Schools were introduced by Maharaja Hari Singh, the last autocratic ruler who inherited Kashmir from his great grandfather Gulab Singh. Maharajas are remembered by Kashmiris for their cruelty.

“These schools were exclusive for Muslims. Police used to come to our homes and take us to school. My school was at Kraleyar Rainawari,” says Sheikh with a smile while recalling his school days.

Another reason for Muslims skipping schools was that only educated Hindu’s were preferred for government jobs. “I wish I would have studied till 10th…,” he stops being thoughtful and smiles again.

Ghulam Nabi struggles with his faded memory while recalling his childhood. He remembers the games played and some of his close friends, “Age! I don’t remember much now,” he says smiling. “I used to play Sanzlanges (Hopscotch) and Qabeth (Kabaddi) with my friends in school. All my close friends, Ghulam Mohd Ahangar, Ghulam Rasool, Ghulam Ahmad Zargar have died. They lived at Hazoribazar (Khar Mohalla)”, he says with the change in his mood.

Recalling the tribal war by Pakistani backed raiders in Kashmir, he said, “We used to climb rooftops to watch them fighting. It was Kabel Jung.”

“Badamwari – mazeh ous yewan (we used to enjoy). I and my friends used to go to Badamwari. The place was known as Gearh Bagh. Bakshi saeb (PM of Kashmir), used to come there and Ame Suf (Ama Sufi, one of the known Kashmiri singer), would fill the air with his music. We used to play, and eat gearh (sweet chestnut),” recalls Sheikh.

“Hakkhas ous tuthe mazeh asaan (Collard greens had such a good taste), na roud tem banaven wael, na roud tem sean, (neither such food is available nor such cooks exist now). We used to purchase Pachin (Heron) from Habba Kadal, but now it is not available there,” rues Sheikh as he finds everything tasteless and adulterated.

Sheikh hails from Mughal Mohalla Rainawari in Srinagar. Interestingly his old house resembles the house of Maqbool Bhat – JKLF founder who was hanged inside Delhi’s Tihar jail in 1984.

Rain has stopped and day seems bright. Weather and seasons decide the time to open the shop. It remains closed in rain and snow.

Reluctantly, he speaks in a soft tone which disappears in the sound of vehicles passing by his shop. Walls clocks are dangling in the display glass. These clocks are of different shapes and colours. None of the clock shows the same time. The golden coloured ladies wrist watches, six digital watches, brown spectacle and two rust driven boxes lay inside the glass topped counter. The two boxes are filled with the lithium button sized batteries and repair tools.

“I started this shop 30 years back, you calculate the year yourself now!” says Sheikh in a soft tone accompanied with a smile.  His decayed tooth is visible with every smile.

Sheikh has been witness to changes that happened over the years both in terms of people’s preferences and style viz-a-viz watches. “In the past watches had keys but now they work on cells. Since technology took over wearing a watch is out of fashion now. People mostly come for wall clocks now. And that too fancy ones,” recalls Sheikh.

In the good old days, Sheikh recalls that possessing a wrist watch or a wall clock was a big thing. “Only a blessed few could afford to own these objects of desire,” says Sheikh. “But now everyone has a clock in his house.”

After leaving his studies mid-way Sheikh started working with his father, Ghulam Mohammad Sheikh. “I used to get wool for the pashmina shawls from Navidyar. Later I joined National Silk Industry as an artisan,” says Shiekh.

During that time National Silk Industry was located at Dalgate under the supervision of G M Bhat. After working there for around 15 years, Sheikh started selling watches. “Those were the times when people would throng my shop for a glimpse of these beautiful time machines. But I guess my time is gone now,” he says looking at the people walking outside.

Despite the change and dwindling footfall of customers at his shop, Sheikh is a content man. “My son has done B.Com and my daughters have done MA,” he says proudly with sudden shine that brighten his face.

Father of a son and two daughters, Sheikh claims to be the only person of his age in the Mughal Mohalla area who had allowed his daughters to continue their studies. “In our area there are many rich people but their daughters are not as educated as mine,” says Sheikh proudly.

Sheikh’s elder daughter is a teacher and the yougner one is manager at J&K Bank.

With his trembling hands Sheikh continues to repair watches and replace their batteries, surprisingly without using spectacles. Pointing towards the glass counter in front of him, he says, “Nowadays I have more girls visiting my shop for fancy and stylish watches. I am slowly trying to adopt myself to this change.”

While most of the shops selling watches in the vicinity closed Shiekh is happy to at least have 5 to 6 costumers daily.

Reminiscing about the past, he clearly remembers about the watches people mostly purchased then. “People were simply crazy about HMT watches. There was a watch making factory in Kashmir but the director was killed during Tehreek,” he said, not being sure about the year.

When Kashmir Life requested him for a photograph, “beh yemai pagah coat pant lagith, atae tolzi” (I will come wearing  coat and pant tomorrow, then click my picture) and he stands with a smile.

Taking off from Muslim Conference and leading from the front in National Conference, Sopore’s Ghulam Rasool Kar eventually landed in Congress. Shuttling between power and politics, Kar lived a long, eventful life (1921-2015) and was witness to Kashmir’s post-partition history. In last interview of his life, Kar shares interesting details of his activism, and his version of the history with Bilal Handoo

Ghulam Rasool Kar at his Sopore residence.
Pic: Bilal Bahadur

Town Hall area of restive Sopore seems highly beefed up security zone. A few guarding cops ensure civilian movement only after a passage through a stringent security check-up. A hushed alley ahead opens into the residence of seasoned Congressman who is witness to Kashmir’s chequered history.

At 94, Ghulam Rasool Kar is still attending a rush of Congress supporters and workers in his high-walled and well-guarded residence. As a political and social worker, Kar is one of pioneers of freedom movement against Dogra Maharaja.

In 1938, Kar rose to become Secretary National Conference at the age of 17. Eight years later, he became NC President from Sopore.

When in 1951, Sheikh Abdullah set up the constituent assembly, Kar was nominated its member. By 1960, he was appointed as the founding chairman of Co-operative Mercantile Bank. Years that followed saw him joining Congress and holding many important portfolios, including Power, Transport, Food & Supplies, Water, PWD and Labour.

During tumultuous years of nineties, Kar emerged as the ‘brave’ face in state Congress who would visit villages across valley and campaign against militancy. In 1990s, he would park his gypsy near Shalteng, board the Baramulla buses and reach against militancy as his escort would follow the bus till Sangrama. He faced music for this by surviving many life attempts. In 1995 when Chrar-e-Sharief went up in flames, Kar was perhaps one of the few unionists who visited the town, was attacked with stones, injuring him as cameras were rolling. This didn’t deter him though. He remained a ‘loyal’ worker of Congress – the party he later renounced before rejoining it in 2010 with this announcement: “Pakistan is the heartbeat of every Kashmiri!”

Apart from politics, Kar published Sopore Times, Dehkan and Daily Khidmat. He, in fact, was the sole trustee of the Khidmat Trust.

Early Life

I was born on June 18, 1921 in Sopore, three months after my father, Khwaja Habibulah Kar died. One of my brothers was mentally retarded. My other brother and two sisters were already married. So, my mother nursed me. She had a great desire to educate me. But I failed to pass my matriculation exam. My English was very weak. I shortly parted ways with studies. But I was very much into politics while growing up. At 12, I had joined Muslim Conference.

Start with Muslim Conference

One Eid in early thirties, Muslim Conference leader Molvi Mohammad Yaseen came to meet me at my residence. He was one among the four prominent Muslim Conference leaders from Sopore, including Sofi Mohammad Akbar, Khawaja Abdul Rahim Dar and Khawaja Mohammad Rajab Bakshi.

“Look,” he told me, “Just make an announcement that Molvi Mohammad Yaseen will address public rally after Eid prayers at Jamia Masjid Sopore.”

I did it. After giving a public address, Molvi Yaseen gave me 14 annas. Soon I became very close to Muslim Conference, where I later met my political mentor, Sofi Mohammad Akbar.

Following Sheikh

I was among those who masterminded and converted Muslim Conference into National Conference to bestow a secular outlook to the new party under the leadership of Sheikh Mohammad Abdullah. Some resisted the move, but in the face of Sheikh Abdullah’s tall stature, the resistance soon withered away. People would treat Sheikh’s words – as if, he was some prophet!

It was because of this influence and mindset that when a tax of Rs 22,000 was imposed on Sopore for agitation, only 14 persons sided with Muslim Conference, while rest went with Sheikh. Mind you, it happened in place like Sopore where Muslim Conference was considered as a movement than a party.

‘Quit Kashmir’ Movement

Sheikh addressed number of ‘Quit Kashmir’ rallies in mid-forties where he raised slogans against Hari Singh. I attended one such rally at Hazratbal with Ghulam Mohammad Sadiq. After raising anti-Dogra slogans there, Sadiq told Sheikh: “Now when you have raised slogans against Hari Singh, are you ready for prison life?”

Sheikh in his usual dauntless demeanour replied: “Don’t worry. Nobody is going to arrest us…”

Sadiq interjected: “But how do you know that?”

Sheikh, smilingly, said: “I was assured by Maharaja Hari Singh’s barber – that none of us would be arrested.”

Sadiq soon met Bakshi and told him: “Just pack up. We are leaving valley before Hari Singh’s men will come to arrest us.”

Bakshi snapped him saying: “But why?”

“Why?” Sadiq literally mocked Bakshi’s query. “You are pretending, as if, you don’t know anything about Sheikh’s political plans.”

“No, I swear. I don’t have any idea what you are talking about,” Bakshi, getting edgy, replied.

“Now don’t tell me you don’t know how Sheikh is behaving like one man authority. To address your ignorance, let me still tell you, Sheikh was tricked by Maharaja’s men—on whose instructions, he started movement in state. It was a well-hatched ploy. Now, Maharaja is mulling to detain all of us. Before his men could lay their hands on us, let us leave,” Sadiq told Bakshi.

Sadiq was right in his concern. Sheikh had started the movement without involving and consulting NC Working Group and volunteers.

Bakshi briskly booked a bus for fleeing valley. He instructed Sadiq to wait at Srinagar’s Toto Ground. But somehow, Sheikh knew that both Sadiq and Bakshi are fleeing. He too got ready to flee, but was arrested by Maharaja’s forces at Dumail on Srinagar-Jammu Highway. Sadiq and Bakshi were too arrested.

Later I realised that Sheikh was caught in the trap laid by Dogra Prime Minister, Ramchander Kak, who needed a pretext to arrest Sheikh and his coterie. After allowing it to snowball, Kak wanted to crush ‘Quit Kashmir’ Movement. He, in fact, had already called JK troops back from Europe, where they were engaged in Second World War. Along with other NC workers I too was arrested.

Shouldering Gandhi

After walking out of prison, I heard about MK Gandhi’s Valley visit. I along with others welcomed him at Sangrama. It was 1946. Later Gandhi went to Mujahid Manzil to address public rallies. I shouldered him while descending staircase. He patted me. But let me tell you, he had come with a purpose. He wanted Hari Singh to accede with India.

Marching Qabailis

When Qabailis attacked Baramulla, I along with Sofi Mohammad Akbar, Lasse Wandur, Sanaullah Beg, Khazir Bhat visited Baramulla on a tonga. We reached Uri and then returned to Baramulla. Raiders had already climbed over a hill at Baramulla, from where they started firing at us.

Hari Singh and Menon

Meanwhile New Delhi sent Menon with document of accession to Jammu. Hari Singh was already camping there. Menon had to return to New Delhi over some issue in the document. He promised to come back after sorting out identified issue. Hari Singh, meanwhile, told his official: “In case Menon won’t come on time, then shoot me dead!”

But Menon did come on time and Hari Singh signed the document without any delay. And thus, already air-borne Indian army arrived in valley to combat the Pakistani raiders. Later Sheikh also signed the document of accession. Since he was a one man government in himself, none could question him.

Guiding Indian Army

I mustered courage to escort the Army to push back raiders. The Indian Army had established a picket at Kralsangri Baramulla. The unit belonged to Sikh regiment under the command of Colonel Roy who was unfortunately killed while resisting raiders. This made the unit to retreat. I was guiding another contingent at Sopore.

Chasing Sherwani

The moment raiders crossed Sangrama, a phone call from Srinagar rang up Sofi Mohammad Akbar: “Leave Sopore immediately!” I accompanied him along with Ghulam Rasool Sofi and reached Srinagar via Ganderbal after two days. Sherwani had also come to Srinagar riding on a horse he took from a landlord of Sumbal.

Bakshi Ghulam Mohammad, the then in charge of Home Affairs, gave me and Sherwani a ticket and ordered us: “Go back and see what those Qabailis are upto?”

Sherwani managed a motorbike and gave me a bicycle with an instruction: “Wait for me at Ganderbal.” The moment he appeared at Ganderbal on his motorbike, he straightaway took Zazan route to reach Sumbal. He clearly avoided me. I started following him on bicycle.

Sherwani’s bike, however, broke down and he called a local ironsmith on his way. Meanwhile I reached on the spot. To avoid me, he told the ironsmith: “Come with me!” They left on motorbike and I again started peddling bicycle to follow him.

Some half an hour later, I reached Sumbal. I soon spotted the ironsmith, who broke the news to me: “Retreat. The man you are following has been arrested by raiders!” Sherwani had been captured.

Meanwhile, Sherwani was taken to Baramulla where he was set free by raiders. But General Secretary Muslim Conference, Ghulam-ud-Din Wani saw Sherwani being released. He went to Qabaili leader and told him: “How could you leave this man? Do you know, he was the one, who organised processions against Jinnah’s Kashmir visit?”

This revelation raged the Qaibali leader. And thus Sherwani was rearrested. On October 29, 1947, he was brutally killed. It is said raiders pumped 14 bullets into his body.

After his death, some glorified Sherwani, saying he derailed raiders’ march in valley, which is wrong. He was killed only for his anti-Jinnah protest.

I returned to Srinagar to inform Headquarters headed by Sham Lal Saraf about Sherwani’s death.

Retaining Baramulla

Pakistani Raiders surrendering before Rasool Kar

When Indian Army recaptured Baramulla, Sofi Mohammad Akbar was appointed district administrator. Meanwhile, a contingent from Pakistan side of Kashmir led by Prof Abdul Aziz Mir captured Trehgam, Kupwara.

At Trehgam, a newly formed militia surrendered before raiders, who had managed to capture Kupwara and Handwara.

Indian Army commanded by Colonel Harbaksh Singh, who later became Lieutenant General of Indian Army, established a picket at Wataven Handwara. I was with this picket.

The army decided to ambush raiders at Handwara, which forced them to return from Wadpora. Shortly, Kupwara was recaptured. As the town lit up in celebrations, a bomb was hurled on a mob. In this incident, I was badly injured.

After three months of stiff resistance, we captured Trehgam. Besides, I was the first NC leader who reached with Indian Army to capture Teetwal, tehsil headquarter of district Muzaffarabad.

Peace Committee

I was nominated as a member of food and peace committee, which was formed immediately after Pakistani tribal raided valley. Begam Sheikh Mohammad Abdullah was the chairperson of Committee and I was made Vice Chairman of food and peace  committee for northern region of Kashmir  bordering with Pakistan.

Sheikh-Nehru Affair

Sheikh and Nehru

It is no secret that Sheikh was influenced more by Nehru than Jinnah. When he stepped out of Jail, he addressed a public rally at Hazuri Bagh, where he said: “Now when Pakistan and Hindustan have became two nations, we will decide with whom we will go…” With that, he left for Delhi, leaving behind an impression: “Sheikh is favouring New Delhi over Islamabad.”

Sheikh disliked Jinnah. Keeping the huge response created by Jinnah’s earlier visit to valley in view, Sheikh knew that Islamabad is no good for his personnel growth. That’s why he recited those sacred verses to glorify his friendship with Nehru: “Man tu shudam, Tu man shudi…”

The Sheikh Abdullah, I knew, was a very selfish person. In Oct 1951, while deliberating on policy statement, he told the constituent assembly: “We have three options: India, Pakistan or Independence. But I would suggest you to choose India.” By 1953, he grew disillusioned and threatened over constitutional fiddling in state. But before lion would have roared, his friend, Nehru caged him with the support of Karan Singh, Qadir Qanderbali, DP Dhar and Bakshi.

Fiddling with Article 370

Changes inflicted on Article 370 were brought by constituent assembly in connivance with Karan Singh, DP Dhar, Sadiq, Mir Qasim and others. Prime Minister was reduced to chief minister and Sadr Riyasat into Governor, besides other constitutional changes. All these changes were started by local Kashmiri leadership. We as agents of Delhi did everything, of course due to political pressure. Kashmiris were always chosen for collaborations by successive Delhi leadership.

But I wasn’t aware about the repercussions of such moves. Yes, people like DP Dhar, Sadiq and Mir Qasim were quite aware what they were doing. The three of them later founded Congress in Kashmir.

Conspiracy behind Congress

Establishing Congress in JK was an open conspiracy against National Conference. In efforts to strengthen and popularize Congress among people, rallies and public addresses were rigorously conducted during the period between 1960 and 1975. It was the time when there was a strong undercurrent of plebiscite from Sheikh Abdullah. Pro-India leaders became target in that period.

In 1966, I survived life attempt in a rally along with then Chief Minister, Ghulam Mohammad Sadiq at Kariappa Park, Baramulla.

Role during 1965 War

I was the first among the political leaders, to reach Haji Peer, when it was recaptured by the Indian Army in 1965 from Pakistan.

I walked to Haji Pir with Indian Army and made it sure that none of the locals were harmed. People were very scared. Locals from Rajouri and Poonch had crossed over to Pakistan side of Kashmir. I ensured their safe passage back to valley.

On Trips

I visited Germany, USSR Lenin guard, Bukhara, Smarkand and Tashkant as a member of the delegation of the Indian National Congress. I also visited Saudi Arabia six times as a Member of Parliament. I attended Common Wealth Parliament Conference as a delegate. I along with Mufti Mohammad Sayeed visited Bangladesh to have a friendly meeting with Sheikh Mujeeb-ur Rehman, the then Prime Minister of Bangladesh.

My Regrets

Sheikh Abdullah stepping out of jail.

Before Sheikh Abdullah stepped out of jail in sixties, I was called by Governor. He examined me. I failed to read his comments. He wanted to install me as a chief minister of state. I couldn’t visualise his vision. This is my first regret. Second political mistake I committed was to turn down my party, Congress’s offer to contest election as a chief minister candidate.

Role during Militancy

I was holding the command of state Congress when militancy broke out in state. I was a member of advisory committee for restoration of peace in trouble-torn valley constituted by then Governor of J&K, Girish Chander Saxena in 1992.

I would visit villages across valley to discourage militancy. As a result, I became instant target. I survived a life attempt at Char-i-Sharief where militants tried to stab me but fortunately the bid was foiled by my security staff. On other time, I had a narrow escape when a gunman killed my body guard at Sopore, but I escaped unhurt.

In 1992, my son-in-law, Dr Mustafa Aslam was abducted and kept hostage for months together but was later released. Another son-in-law Dr Kango was abducted twice and tortured but was later released. My brother-in-law, Habib-ullah Mircha, a senior revenue officer was abducted, tortured and finally killed for his political ideology.

The threats to my life had become the order of the day. About half a dozen attempts were made on my life, including a bomb blast in close proximity to my bedroom. But even then, I was the only leader who stayed in valley during militancy. My family though was forced to shift to Delhi temporarily.

But all this didn’t deter me to organize peace march from Uri to Qazigund in 1996. The efforts paid off during the Eleventh Lok Sabha in which Congress won 4 out 6 seats. I won from Baramulla.

Married Life

I was first married to Ayesha Kar and then to Habla Kar. I have four children – Ajaz Kar, Irshad Kar, Dr Khalida Aslam and Masrat Nissar.

My Friend Geelani

In 2010, when I rejoined Congress, I made it clear that Kashmiris’ heart beat for Pakistan. Kashmiris don’t want freedom. They want Pakistan. I knew it from the very beginning of my political career. But then, politicians don’t make everything public.

I often tell my friend, Syed Ali Geelani: “You should retire from politics now.” But then he replies: “How could I do it – even if, I wish! Will people forgive me for that?”

As I said, politicians don’t make everything public.

From once bustling households to dreaded torture centers and military camps, pandit properties in Kashmir have withstood time and politics. Bilal Handoo travels across Kashmir to unmask the heroes guarding their neighbours’ last standing pieces of identity against all odds

Sultan near abandoned pandit house in Wandhama. Pic: Bilal Bahadur

For last 17 years, Mohammad Sultan is on a ‘moral’ duty. He regularly takes walk up to the village entry point, where he stops to take a good look at something he could identify himself with. He sighs heavily before stepping back on a narrow mud path surrounded by abandoned pandit houses.

Since 1998, it is his daily routine to keep a vigil on his abandoned neighbourhood. By doing so, he hopes for a reunion with migrated pandit neighbours one day.

This is Wandhama — a disturbingly quiet village in Central Kashmir’s Ganderbal, planted with leafless walnut trees and dotted with eight deserted houses. These ruined structures give a ghostly look to this village. But a few meters walk ahead provides some respite to eyes. Some sluggish signs of life are on the roll at the backside.

“Ours was the life akin to a garden,” says Sultan, a greying man in his late forties, sitting on grocer’s shop front. “But now…” he pauses, signals toward pandit houses and then resumes, “look how our garden stands ravaged!”

He starts walking toward the abandoned pandit houses. A few of them have been razed to ground. Those standing have been rendered vacant. “Not every pandit left Wandhama during nineties,” says Sultan while passing through a ruined temple. “Many stayed put till 1998…”

That year on January 25, Wandhama was made to bleed under dark cover. It was Shab-e-Qadr and the village mosques were roaring with prayers. Inside one mosque that night, young Sultan heard some bullet shots ringing outside. He didn’t make much out of them — as such sounds weren’t unusual those days. But as barrage of bullets endlessly rang outside, he  could see some person turning the mosque speakers off. He heard whispers and saw people inside getting restless.

The moment night hush resumed, Sultan stepped out of mosque only to glimpse flaming village temple. He could feel a dead silence prevailing at the entry point of village housing pandits.

Soon the night’s silence was shattered by shrieks. Villagers saw pandits dead in their kitchens, lawns, bedrooms…

This created a manic response among villagers. They abandoned their houses and sought refuge in nearby villages for days together.

With the arrival of new dawn, Wandhama was painted red. The ‘dark’ slaughter had piled up 23 pandit bodies.

Only one boy survived to detail the deadly assault.

A 14-year-old boy Vinod Dhar had given slip to killers by hiding in an attic of his house, and watched slaughter of his parents and others.

He later said that the gunmen came to their house dressed like Indian Army soldiers, who had tea with them, waiting for a radio message indicating that all pandit families in the village had been covered. After a brief conversation, pandits were rounded up and gunned down with Kalashnikov rifles, Dhar was quoted as saying.

Kashmir’s then divisional commissioner S L Bhat was quick to ‘unmask’ the killers: “This is the worst incident I have witnessed. I believe foreign militants were involved in the massacre.”

One year after Wandhama killings, Sultan says, Indian Army from nearby Mansbal Camp visited the village and took away all tin roofs from pandit houses.

“That’s why,” he says, “all these houses have been rendered roofless.” Except that ransack, he continues, Muslims of Wandhama didn’t allow anyone to fiddle with pandit properties.

But even then, many tried to make fortune out of pandit houses. Once Sultan and others sniffed the intentions, they quickly issued a press statement, saying: “None is permitted to avail pandit property at Wandhama without consulting the villagers.”

The press statement, he says, was to discourage distressing sale of pandit property spearheaded by land mafia. “This property belongs to our pandit neighbours,” says Sultan. “And we will continue to safeguard it.”

A first formal survey carried out (in 1996-97) by the State Relief Organization put the count of migrant pandit families at 25,551. While leaving Kashmir, the migrants left behind ‘bulk’ of immovable property, including 3001 structures which were alienated under the provisions of the J&K Migrant Immovable Property (Preservation, protection and restraint on distress sales) Act 1997. Besides they left 16896 kanals and 114 marlas of land.

The highest land is in south Kashmir Islamabad where 3724 kanals has been recorded and the lowest is in Bandipore with 198 kanals existed.

Nazir Ahmad Bhat of Lar Ganderbal keeping vigil on pandit houses.

A few kilometres away from Wandhama, Nazir Ahmad Bhat makes it sure to check the condition of pandit houses facing his house on daily basis.

This is Sheikh Mohalla of Ganderbal’s Lar, where migration of pandits left behind three structures. And soon these houses became army torture centres, says Nazir, where hundreds of Muslim youth were tortured.

“Before army vacated these houses in mid-2000,” he says, “they had chopped many trees planted in their lawn and made furniture out of it before sending it to their homes across India.”

After army left, Nazir took it on himself to keep a watchful eye on these houses. “If tomorrow any of my pandit neighbours come, they wouldn’t have a reason to live in those separate townships. Their ancestral houses are safe.”

Notably, Narendra Modi-led central government has already set the ball rolling in Valley. It has directed state government to identify and earmark 16,800 kanals of land for pandit resettlement in south Kashmir’s Islamabad, north Kashmir’s Baramulla and central Kashmir’s Budgam districts.

Abdul Rahim guarding pandit houses in Ladyun, Ganderbal.

At a short distance from Lar, there is village called Ladyun. This village still houses two pandit residential structures. A dozen of pandit families with surname Bhans used to live in them before migration. Now, these houses stare vacantly.

But this seeping absence is not discouraging someone to protect these pandit houses from becoming part of a shady deal.

Abdul Rahim, a farmer, lives closer to these pandit houses. He still remembers how during 90s Muslims used to spend nights with their pandit neighbours just to restore their confidence in the place and in the people.

“We would tell them: ‘Don’t worry. No need to panic. We are here to safeguard you.’ But then, they decided to follow their brethren,” he says.

Like other pandit houses, these two houses also served as army camps before being vacated in early 2000. And since then, Rahim has assumed a role of default guardian of these houses.

“I wish, one day,” he says, “my pandit neighbours will return to live in these houses, but I have my doubts.”

Rahim’s doubts are rooted in the fact that the migrants are entitled to various amenities under different relief categories. Basic relief including food grains, fuel and sugar is being given to all the registered families. Plus, they get monthly cash relief.

Since 1989-90, official data suggests, the government has dispensed an amount of Rs 1194.97 crore on the migrants for the cash assistance, food and other basic facilities.

“Amid these benefits,” Rahim says, “pandit homecoming doesn’t sound a reckoning move.” But politics apart, he says, “it is my moral duty to safeguard my neighbours’ properties.”

A stretch that runs through Ladyun stops at another erstwhile pandit village, Tulmulla. Some 50 to 60 pandit houses in this village are now deserted.

And to keep a close tab on these houses to prevent from getting “ransacked”, Ali Muhammad, 55, has been on toes since nineties.

“Pandits left during trying times,” he says, “but the day they will finally make their mind to return, we tell them: ‘Look, we have kept everything the way you left it.’ ”

At the moment when the ‘separate township’ for KPs is snowballing into a political crisis in valley, thousands of pandit houses remain under the protection of Kashmiri Muslims. Amid the clamour, many say: pandits must revisit their native places than to live in ‘controversial’ townships — being perceived akin to ‘Israeli settlements’ in Palestine.

After a stiff political resistance, Mufti government has set the records straight, saying: “Migrant pandits will be settled only in their native places, and not in separate colonies.” But even then, it is said, land identification has already been set in motion.

A scene of Srinagar’s Habba Kadal.
Pic: Bilal Bahadur

Quite unaware about political rhetoric, Ghulam Qadir is enjoying afternoon sun at his grocery shop. Facing dilapidated pandit houses, Qadir is the witness of a vibrant Habba Kadal that got reduced into ghost lanes in nineties after some unidentified men torched pandit houses in the area.

“After that,” he says, yawning back to normal stance, “killing of three pandits by unknown men triggered panic in Habba Kadal.”

And with that, he continues, 80 to 90 per cent houses of Habba Kadal dwelled by pandits became hauntingly silent.

The years that followed saw many pandits to sell their properties. “All these new houses you see in the area are constructed on the sold out pandit houses,” Qadir says, “While unsold pandit houses are being properly looked after by locals.”

In Bhan Mohalla of Habba Kadal, Qadir looks after many such structures whose owners — his neighbours — aren’t turning up, much to his chagrin.

At 55km from Habba Kadal, pandit houses stand ruined because of decadal abandonment. This is Kaloosa in north Kashmir’s Bandipora district that used to house nearby 60 odd pandit families till nineties. The abandoned houses were soon turned into security camp, besides torture centre.

“Now when the torture centre is no longer there,” says Shabir Ahmad, living nearby, “locals along with non-migrant pandits are safeguarding these houses.” In Kaloosa, he says, “no pandit house was ever torched.” This, he believes, must encourage government to resettle Kashmir-bound pandits at their native places.

South Kashmir’s pandit pockets are also echoing with the same voices in backdrop of ‘separate township’ row.

Deserted pandit houses in Haal Pulwama.
Pic: Bilal Bahadur

Haal Pulwama is a beautiful landscape dotted with equally ‘painful’ abandoned structures. Most of them have been reduced to rubble but not grabbed by illegal means. And to ensure their safety, people like Mushtaq Dar have been keeping close watch at them for last 25 years.

“We lost our neighbours in an unfortunate manner,” says Dar. “So, safeguarding their houses is our moral obligation.”

Haal used to house 80 pandit houses before migration. But now, only one pandit lives in Haal with his family.

Around 135km from summer capital, some forsaken pandit houses are on safety mode. This is Lalpora, a fringe location of Lolab. Closer to line of control, the village is surrounded by lush green forests and snow capped mountains.

In this “land of love and beauty”, ten pandit families used to live before nineties. Like their brethren, pandits of Lalpora too responded to ‘panic calls’ once armed struggle against Indian rule began in valley.

“Some of them sold their properties,” says Liyaqat Ali, a villager, “but most abandoned their immovable assets, now protected by villagers.”

In restive Sopore, scores of pandit houses are also safeguarded by Muslims. In Bomai village, there is 60-year-old man, Abdul Hameed, who keeps a close vigil at pandit properties.

“Most pandits have packed up from Bomai after selling their properties,” he says. “And whatever has been left is being looked after by villagers.”

In this picturesque village too, many are pinning hopes on pandit return to their native places. “Look,” says Hameed, “the fact is: we all are protecting our beautiful tomorrow by safeguarding these pandit structures.”

The same feelings run high in restive Palhallan town housing many pandits before migration. In Bhagat Mohalla, many pandit structures are in ruins now.

“Some houses suffered damages after army turned them into security camps,” says Zameer Mir, a local. “But the surviving structures are being safeguarded by villagers.”

Mohammad Sultan nearby abondoned pandit houses in Wandhama.
Pic: Bilal Bahadur

At Wandhama, Sultan standing near the pandit houses is getting nostalgic. He wants to relive his past. But he is quite mindful to the fact that most pandits have already burnt their returning boats.

“But those who want to return must resettle in their native houses — to recreate the beautiful past we all lost somewhere,” Sultan says before taking a walk back home amid abandoned neighbourhood.

From once lively literary meetings where he rubbed shoulders with the who-is-who of his times to a small dark room in Srinagar, 90-year-old Ghulam Nabi Baba wants to relive his life. Sehar Qazi meets the writer and gets him talking about his life and times  

For 90-year-old Ghulam Nabi Baba, author of Sathseder (Seven Seas) and Yate Na Bakaya Haba (Nothing in this world will last forever), being bed ridden is like a curse. But what irks him more is his falling memory. His weak lean body has lost its strength, his ears have lost their hearing ability, his eyes have lost their vision, yet he believes immortality of a person or a place lies in its language and literature.

Born at his ancestral house in Nowhatta in Srinagar’s down town area Baba Sir, as he is fondly known by people, has just one last wish – good health, so that he can walk through the lanes of Nowhatta area, the place where he is born and where he spent his childhood.

Most of the events related to Baba’s life are lost to old age. But he still recalls one major event that changed his life to a great extent: divorce from his wife after one year of their marriage. Since then he lived mostly alone in his small house. Presently he lives with his niece and Danish, his adopted son.

He also recalls his childhood days spent at his ancestral house in Nowhatta. “I had four siblings, one of my sisters and the two brothers died long back. I was the only son left. Khaneh Majar Osum (was the pampered one),” Baba says.

Sitting morosely contemplating in a corner of his small house Baba tries to piece together his fragmented memory. Finally after a long pause, he recalls Ghulam Ali Baba, his father, who was well versed with languages like Farsi (Persian), Urdu, Kashmiri. “My father is my inspiration. He used to narrate us the stories in wintery nights. I also wanted to be a story-teller and I started writing. He would gather all the children in the family and tell us stories,” says Baba. “I and my cousins would often fall asleep while listening to his stories. Nun chai (salt tea) in the Samavor with katlam and bikerkheni were relished by all,” recalls Baba.

In 1949, after completing his honours in Urdu, Baba joined Radio Kashmir. “I had heard that Radio Kashmir was appointing people who were related with art and literature. I was interviewed and appointed there. I was selected by Sanaullah Kalandar as an artist,” Baba remembers.

In between the conversation Baba abruptly asks, “Did you write about my school and about my house at Nowhatta? Have you seen the government school at Nowhatta? My house was exactly at the same place.”

After 11 years, in 1960, Baba left Radio Kashmir. “During that time there was no pension scheme. I joined Department of Information (J&K). Because of my hard work, I was promoted as a producer within few months of my service. I was told by Bakaya Sahab, who was the director at that time to go to Kargil and join as an Assistant Information Officer. I refused because of my sister’s health conditions,” Baba says. “Later she died after her prolonged illness,” he adds with a change of voice.

The memories that Baba could recalls without much effort are from his days at the Radio Kashmir. “Initially I was a news reader and later I started writing. I was the part of gaomi program (program that is written about the life and issue in the rural areas). I wrote plays. I often would act in those plays. My name was Jaffar Bhat in one of the plays. My father was…I don’t remember his name. He was a Pandit,” he says with a smile.

“From 1949 onwards, we used to have meeting, literary meetings. In those meetings takreer (speech), nazam (poem), short stories, plays and the parts of drama (plays) were discussed. As dramas were long in their format, so only a small portion was narrated by the writer,” says Baba. “The topics that were discussed in the meetings were called literary topics. Ghulam Nabi Feraq, Late Ghulam Ahamd Abid, Ghulam Ahmad Ghash, Late Nazir Ahmad Mir, Late Abdul Gani Qazi and some more poets, short story writers used to be part of those literary meets. Writers from the city as well as from the other part of Kashmir used to participate. There was an exchange of thoughts and ideas. On Sundays we used to have these meetings”.

Trying to recall more about the meetings he says, “We used to discuss about the language and the literature written in our own language. I started writing since 1949, and from there onwards my literary period started. I have read Haqani, Mehjoor, Azad, Prem Chand, Momin Khan Momin, Mirza Ghalib and Allama Iqbal and many others. Among all I often read Allama Iqbal,” says Baba in an effortless tone that defies his age.  “We had daily programmes in Radio Kashmir. I wrote for programmes like Kath Bath and Zoneh Dab. I was Zeneh Kak in one of the programmes of Zoneh Dab,” he recalls.

Ghulam Nabi Baba in his hey days.

Being a writer Baba is concerned about the changes that took place over the years in language and literature of Kashmir. “Our society got developed in such a way, totally a different way far away from its culture. In the past, everybody was the admirer of our native language. But today we read English literature. Their issues are not our issues. We have our own issues to write about in our own language. We have just abandoned our native language,” feels Baba.

Talking about his love for the Kashmiri language, Baba says, “We used to feel our language while writing and singing Kashmiri songs. The feeling has now disappeared from the society. We have lost our essence of being Koshur (Kashmiri), just because many people have lost that love for their own language”.

Baba believes that we should write about our issues in our own language, so that it may influence the world.

In the past, writers used to write prose and poems in Kashmiri, Akh jazbat tahat (out of love and respect for our own language), but now I feel most of us have lost our way and our real issues that we need to write about, feels Baba.

While talking about the words and the structure given to the language, “Many people have tried to give Zann (structure) to the language like Amil Kamil, Rahman Rahi, Ghulam Nabi Feraq, Aziz Hajini, Margob Banhali and many others. People from city as well as from the other parts of Kashmir have come forward to contribute to their language,” Baba says.

“We should not forget our own language. Parents should teach their children Keasheer Zaban (Kashmiri language), so that they can contribute to their society and make it better in every possible way,” he says.

Talking about his books, he says, “My first book was sathseder. It is the collection of seven short stories. I wrote about different issues and evils including dowry and corruption of our society. My second book, Yateneya bakaya haba is the collection of eighteen short stories. I thought of writing about life and death and how one day everything has to end, so I wrote it. In one of the short story I wrote what people do if someone dies in our society, they arrange a Wazwaan (traditional feast prepared on marriages mostly) for that also, even if they can’t afford. And how everything has become expensive especially our marriages. I received letters from my pandit friends regarding my books. They have appreciated my efforts”.

Ghulam Nabi Baba has completely forgotten about the three awards that he has received. When asked about them he refused and replied with a smile, “es che serie musafir, chena?”(We are all travelers, aren’t we?).

There was a time when his handmade wooden bangles would find takers in German markets. Sehar Qazi meets the artisan who finds it hard to survive after foreigner tourists abandoned Kashmir 

Mohd Sultan Najar

Mohd Sultan Najar was just 16 year old when he started his journey of carving things out of the wood in Kashmir.

Now 70, Najar is fighting an indecisive battle to end his journey with wood.

Reason? As an artisan, he finds it hard to earn money out of this profession. “I simply want to shut down my workshop and put the place on rent. That way at least I can earn something,” says Najar in a tone full of pessimism.

Najar starts his days work with a cigarette. Puffing heavily, the stress of not getting his work noticed despite hard work is visible on his face.

Inside the workshop, a variety of polished salt bowls are laid on top of each other. In another corner, double layered mortars and pestles, pen holders, tables, nut crackers lay covered with white sheets waiting for the lovers of art and craft.

During his heydays as an artisan, Najar enjoyed and earned good money from his work. “I used to sell wooden items to showroom owners across Srinagar. Some of the known businessmen who used to buy my items were Ghulam Mohammad Chako and Ghulam Mohammad Shah,” says Najar proudly.

At that time, when wood work was still a profitable profession, Najar’s two brothers used to work with him. “We used to make wooden bangles and send them to designer at different places in Kashmir. Our wooden bangles were exported to Germany even. The price varied according to the size of the bangles. We used to earn good amount of money but then suddenly customers stopped showing up,” recalls Najar while looking at a set of tools hung behind him on the wall. “They are all my hathyar (tools).”

Now sitting alone in his worn-out workshop, walls of which he has decorated with the photographs of his family, friends, worker, Najar’s says his hard work earns him nothing. “My conscience doesn’t allow me to be dependent on anybody in my family,” says Najar.

Ask him the reason for such a nosedive in sales in last few years and Najar is quick to blames the ongoing conflict. “yeneh yeh jung logh, tane tavekh esh behneveth (since insurgency started in Kashmir, we lost our livelihood)”.

There has been a steep fall in orders as foot fall of foreign tourists decreased in Kashmir, feels Najar.

Najar who hails from Roshan Nagar Mohalla of Nowhatta area in Srinagar loves to recall his childhood days. “I miss those golden days of my life. I was like a free bird then. Without a worry in the world,” recalls Najar. “I have studied at a Jabrie Sakool (forced school introduced by Maharaja Hari Singh), where Pandits used to teach us,” says Najar.

Najar doesn’t remember when he left his studies, but says he started working at his father’s workshop from an early age along with his three brothers. “My father was an expert in houseboat making. Though I used to help him out with the process but only my younger brother could pick the skill. Rest of us learnt walnut wood work,” says Najar.

Without any big orders at his hand now, Najar spends most of the time reminiscing about his past. “You know I got married at the age of 20. And during those days bridegrooms would go on a horse with musical band in toe. One had to book both horse and musical band in advance from Amira Kadal,” says Najar. “People used to call such bridegrooms: bajeh mahraaj. It was simple”.

But things have changed a lot since the start of arms insurgency in Kashmir, says Najar. “Nowhatta, the place I live has seen the worst of insurgency and counter-insurgency during 90s,” says Najar.

One memory that Najar wishes to forget is from early 90s when army used to drag people out of their houses before dawn, and keep them in a line for identification parade, known in local parlance as crackdowns. “We were treated like animals,” says Najar. “Those were the darkest times we have lived through. Thousands of youngsters were killed, disappeared, tortured and handicapped,” says Najar in a voice full of pain.

“Nowhatta used to be a lively place with smiling faces all around in our childhood. Now the same streets are full of widows and half widows,” he says.

The constant noise of vehicles passing by his workshop brings him back to the present times and he takes a deep look at a room full of finished but unsold goods.  “I have made them a long time ago but there are no customers,” says Najar.

Najar survives by making wooden railings for newly constructed houses. “I am left with this work only,” says Najar.

A few days back Najar visited one of the showroom owners in Srinagar’s business hub Lal Chowk, with samples of his work hoping to fetch a deal. “The showroom owner, with whom I had previously worked, said he had not sold anything substantial since last 8 months from his shop. He too is planning to change his profession,” says Najar disappointedly.

Najar vividly recalls his visits outside the valley during his golden days as an artisan. “I visited many Indian states with the businessman who used to sell my products. There I met many foreign clients who would give me a one dollar bill as a token of appreciation for my work,” recalls Najar.

Before lighting another cigarette Najar playfully brings forth his right arm exposing a tattoo of a crescent, and another one, a flower on the back of his right hand. “I used to hide this crescent while travelling outside Kashmir.”

Rajni Sehgal, J&K’s most senior female jailor who once jumped to newspaper front pages for training Bangladeshi prisoners in Kashmir embroidery in Kot Bhalwal, was booked for fraud by the state police. But, R S Gull says the lady has a long history of enjoying the abuse and misuse of authority.

Rajni Sehgal

The government operates with its own pace. After being around for a long time, the JK Police’s ‘Crime Branch’ finally lodged a formal case against Mrs Rajni Sehgal, one of the senior jailers of the state, who has headed Kot Bhalwal for a long time. She had embezzled a treasure that was discovered accidently by the prisoners while working on a vegetable garden within the jail premises. That was in September 2012 and the case was registered only after the state home department permitted the police to go against its senior officer.

Charged for offences punishable under Sections 420, 409, 465, 466, 467, 468, 471 and 120-B RPC read with Section 5/24 Treasures Trove Act, 1954, this is an interesting case against Rajni. In September 2012, preliminary police investigations suggest, convicts were digging around in the premises of Kot Bhalwal jail that they detected a treasure.

It was a sealed earthen pot in which there were lots of coins. It was dug out with care but the pot broke down. The metallic objects and the parts of the earthenware were carefully wrapped in a newspaper and handed over to jail’s two Chakkar Hawaldar’s Ravi Kumar and Mohan Lal. They handed it over to the then Jail Superintendent Rajni Sehgal.

A lull followed. Within a few days there were murmurs around and preliminary investigations led the Prison Department to initiate an internal enquiry in November 2012. There was panic reaction in the jail as its staff resorted to a series of measures.

Prisoners associated with the digging were told to ensure they say the recovery took place in November 2012, around Diwali, and not in September. Some of them who might not have conveyed staying cooperative were delivered threats. “Ravi Kumar, Mohan Lal and Suman Kumar on the directions of Rajni Sehgal, approached the inmates and threatened them that if they will reveal the truth regarding the actual date and quantity of the recovered objects, a red entry shall be made in their records which shall hamper their release,” SSP Crime Branch Mubbashir Lattifi was quoted saying. “The inmates were also tortured and forced to lie.”

At the same time, the jail superintendent sent a letter to the Directorate of Archives in Jammu communicating the recovery. This, Lattifi says was done when Sehgal had already faked and forged records mentioning wrong date. The reference to Directorate of Archives and Museums, he says, was “to put a veil over her misdeeds”. She deliberately skipped informing her department about the recovery which, cops say, indicated her mala fide intensions. J&K Treasure Trove Act demands the officer to inform the District Magistrate concerned, regarding the recovery.

Investigations have revealed that treasure comprises of 450 to 500 coins but the records faked by the officer have reduced the number of metallic objects to 107. These were actually coins belonging to the era of Muhammad Gauri, Balban, and Ala-ud-din Khilji. It was a mix of gold and copper coins. Three years later, the formal process of law has reached a level that the police have registered a formal case against Sehgal and three of her confidant associates.

Crime Branch investigations came too early for Mrs Sehgal. She had resumed duties as Superintendent Udhampur jail on August 27, 2014 after remaining suspended for more than 15 months.  The reason: a convict Vinod Kumar killed a fellow prisoner, Pakistani resident Sanaullah Ranjay in Kot Bhalwal jail on May 3, 2013. Kumar a former soldier from Uttrakhand was convicted for killing a fellow soldier in Leh.

Sonaullah Ranjay

Ranjay was an interesting character. He was facing life imprisonment for two terror attacks in 1994, the crimes he had never committed because he was already in jail, investigations revealed after his death. Though his jailer had nothing to do with Ranjay’s conviction, she was found absent when he was attacked.

Arrested for crossing the border illegally, Ranjay, a resident of neighbouring Sialkot, was with police since 1989. He was lodged in its district jail at Amphalla between 1989 and 1992. After being freed, he had told a reporter he was sent from Kanachak police station to R S Pora where he was awaited deportation that police arrested him for series of terror attacks. Waiting to complete his life term, Ranjay suffered a serious attack and died in PGI Chandigarh, the other day.

Prisons Department initiated action: services of Mrs Sehgal were suspended as she was out of the prison when the incident took place. Javed Masood Fazili replaced her. Initial investigation carried out by IAS officer Suresh Kumar, Principal Secretary Home, indicted Sehgal and eight other staffers including Assistant Superintendent Om Prakash Sharma for negligence and carelessness.

Ranjay’s case became a diplomatic issue and the Supreme Court also passed serious strictures against the state government, Superintendent of Jammu jail Dinesh Sharma was asked to conduct an inquiry into the happenings in Kot Bhalwal jail. By October 2013, he had submitted his report suggesting the jail authorities are used to subjecting all kind of inmates to forced labour. Those subjected to forced labour include people in protective custody, and the under-trails.

Mrs Sehgal was personally held responsible for torturing inmates. On Nov 29, 2011, High Court sought her personal reply in a petition by Kashmir Bar Association accusing her of torturing jail inmates. She superintended Kot Bhalwal since December 10, 2010 till her services were attached after Ranjay murder.

By March 2014, however, ADG rank officer D R Doley Burman was investigating the case. She, however, absolved Mrs Sehgal of any culpability. On July 22, 2014 Mrs Sehgal was reinstated with an advice that she should remain careful in future while discharging her duties and not to leave the headquarter without prior permission of her superiors. Now Crime Branch is investigating her for another case.

But the jailer has already one embarrassing case hanging in fire. It is pretty interesting and might be a historic one, at laest in J&K. In November 2012, Ravinder Singh, an under trial facing murder charges, approached court saying his jailer is using a jail-mate, also an under trial to impersonate her in the examinations!

Singh noticed it in June 2012 that Paramjit Singh was appearing as a proxy candidate for Mrs Sehgal in the annual examination for Master in Sociology through IGNOU. The examination centre was in Jammu’s district jail in Amphalla. He decided to be a whistle-blower.

As the investigations started, it was found that, apart from Paramjit, another inmate Kulwant Singh, was also being used as proxy candidate to write the examination papers. Mrs Sehgal, investigations found, had enrolled herself for MA in 2005. In 2008, she used Kulwant to sit in the examination on her behalf. She managed passage of most of the subjects in that semester. But when her examination centre was shifted to Jammu University, Mrs Sehgal, investigations found, reported absent in the subsequent examinations.

The powerful jailer managed shifting the examination centre back to Amphalla jail where the IGNOU runs its study centre. But she faced a crisis. Kulwant had enrolled himself as a candidate and was obviously not in a position to write her papers. Investigations found that the jailer sought help of Amphalla jail superintendent Vinod Kumar and the two convinced another under trail Paramjit Singh Salathia to impersonate her in 2012 examinations.

Ravinder Singh finally filed a case on November 7, 2012 on basis of which the Chief Judicial Magistrate, Jammu directed investigations and registration of FIR. Police Station Pacca Danga  registered FIR No 88/2013 on May 16, 2013 under Section 420, 419, 115, 468, 471, 120-B RPC and 2/5 Prevention of Unfair Means Examination Act, 1987. Police case and the departmental inquiry indicted both the Jail Superintendents Rajni Sehgal and Vinod Kumar.

The latest on the case is it is being heard by Mr Justice Tashi Rabstan of the High Court. On July 15, 2014 the court had issued notices to the government and the accused and by August 24, 2014 there was no response in the courtroom following which last opportunity was given to the accused. By then, however, the DG Prisons had sought explanation from Mrs Sehgal Article 128 of J&K Civil Service Regulations.

But what happens to the cases against her? It is too early to hazard a guess. In J&K, however, there are precedents. Jail superintendents have served jail terms in the same jail they administered. And jailers have killed inmates in the jail and still survived.

From once a notorious cannabis cultivating village to major vegetable producer, Mohanviji in Pulwama district has come a long way. Mir Farhat talks to Riyaz Ahmad Dar, the man who quit cannabis cultivation to set the wheels of change in motion transforming his and others lives for good

Riyaz Ahmad Dar

A decade and a half ago Mohanviji, a village in Pulwama district located on the eastern side of Kakapora, was hounded by police to crackdown on its residents for cultivating cannabis.

The village was a source of cannabis for the whole district and beyond. Almost every smallholder in the village cultivated the narcotic drug and was on the radar of police.

Nestled in willow and poplar trees, Mohanviji is populated by around 800 residents who live in about 200 houses, Mohammad Akbar Wani, an elderly resident, informs.

Almost all the villagers practice farming, with a countable number of government employees and the younger generation, of late, turning towards education.

Frequent police raids and arrests of the men accused of selling Charas had given a bad name to the village. Its residents were socially ostracised in the whole area.

But not after the spring of 2000 when a young man, Riyaz Ahmad Dar, brought a new idea in the village: of converting the cannabis land into cash crop fields.

Dar and his family began cultivating the vegetables in their land, falling along the Romshi stream embankments that skirt the village.

“Because of cannabis cultivation, our village was scornfully looked at by everyone in the district. Although people earned money but the bad name across the district was emotionally painful for us,” says 36-year-old Dar.

Son of an unlettered farmer, Dar had given up his education after class 12th and was in search of earning money to assist his family financially.

“My father had no source of income so I could not continue my studies. Besides, I wanted to support my father and my family. Other youth in my village were facing similar situation,” says Dar.

This desperation turned Dar and other youth of his village to cannabis cultivation for easy money. “After few years of cultivating cannabis and selling it, I realized that it had only disgraced us in the society,” feels Dar.  Besides, the continuing police raids were making the villagers restless.

Almost every day, the villagers were summoned to the police station in Pulwama and those who were caught had to spend days and nights inside police lockup. Across the district, Dar said, they were looked down upon as “criminals”.

In addition to the social stigma, religion also became a force for the villagers, particularly for Dar, to give up the forbidden way of raising money.

Dar says that cultivating cannabis didn’t fetch them much money. “I also thought that when my parents could not raise their economic standard after cultivating cannabis for years how could I and other youth like me do it,” says Dar.

In the first year of the vegetable cultivation, Dar’s idea was only received by his close uncles. Rest of the farmers were largely not attracted to it.

But as the hard work of Dar’s family began to yield for them, gradually the other villagers came in. And in a few years, the Charas fields had disappeared and were replaced by a “green gold”.

The idea of turning the cannabis lands into vegetable farms dawned on the young man during a visit to his relatives in Bugam village in Budgam district in the harvest season of 2000.  Bugam has become one of the major producers of vegetables in the Valley.

“When I saw the huge green vegetable fields in Bugam I was awed by it. Men and women, all were busy in harvesting vegetables. I thought, though our practice is same, that of working in the fields; but people in Bugam were proud of their work unlike ours as we felt shameful because of the cannabis tag,” Dar says.

A view of Mohanviji village in South Kashmir’s Pulwama district.

“Then and there, I told my friend that we will start the practice next season. I discussed with him the whole farming methods and the money they earned from it,” he says. “So my visit to my friend was the turning point.”

From cultivating 25 kanals of their land in the first few years by the Dar family, the whole village got involved in the vegetable farming and soon after thousands of acres of land turned greener.

The village became the only major producer of cauliflower, carrot, cabbage, turnips, collard green, brinjal, tomato and chillies in the district. And the produce began reaching to Fruit mandi in Parimpora and later to the winter capital, Jammu.

“Suddenly, the police parties also stopped coming to our village and our fortune started turning around,” says Ajaz Ahmad, a 30-year-old man, who also with his family took to vegetable farming.

Not only did the farming erase the bad name that the village had got labelled with, it also opened up labour avenues for its youth, who would otherwise give up studies immediately after 8th standard and dive into cannabis production.

After over a decade of hard labuor into his fields, Dar has turned up his fortunes. Today, he owns a ply-board factory and about 100 sheep.

“Whatever business I have today is only because of vegetable farming. In the first five years I raised sufficient money to establish my own sheep farm. And from earning money from  sheep farm, I bought a ply-board factory,” Dar says.

In the factory in Ookho village on Kakapora-Pampore road, Dar has employed about 20 young men to run his factory, and five others who rear his sheep.

Abdul Salam Wani, aged 52, says that the concept of vegetable farming came as a panacea for their long time bad practice of growing cannabis.

“We, as parents, were very upset with the future of our children, who left their studies halfway. With the availability of cannabis, it was easy for them to consume it and get addicted,” Wani says, “but the farming helped us to get rid of the cannabis plants and with them the anxiety about our children.”

Like Dar, Wani’s son, Feroz Ahmad, has also risen from working in his vegetable farm to become a trader.  In partnership with another youth, Ahmad buys vegetables from the farmers of other villages and then sells them in fruit markets in Jammu and Srinagar.

The new practice proved fruitful for the whole village as “halal money” began flowing into it.

In the years that followed the village gave a new look as new, concrete houses replaced the old mud houses. The children and youth began joining schools and colleges which increased the literacy.

“Hardly there were any graduates in our village. Our children would drop out from high school. But today there are scores of post graduates who have studied in as good cities as in Banaglore,” says Wani.  He adds that the period of “darkness and bad days” are over.

The police raids too have stopped long back. Superintendent of Police, Pulwama, Tejinder Singh, said his police teams no longer raid the Mohanviji as the villagers have given up cannabis cultivation long ago.

“We are living a respectable life after we became olericulturists,” says a proud looking Dar.

They can make a replica of any complicated foreign machine in a day’s time. The famous German Khars of old city, whose client list included erstwhile Dogra rulers, may end with this generation as gen-next refuses to learn the underpaid art. Syed Asma foresees a gloomy future of these famed blacksmiths after the last three surviving Khars are gone  

Two of the three last remaining German Khars, (L to R) Abdul Rehman with Habibullah at their workshop in Bandook Khar Mohalla, Srinagar.

Impossible is the most hated word in their clan. The Ahangers of Rainawari, famous as German Khaars, can repair and create a replica of anything. Considered the best in business, Ahangers are city’s famous blacksmiths.

Being in the business for hundreds of years now, Ahangers say this is their fourth generation practising the craft. But they, unlike their forefathers, don’t want to pass it on to their next generation. Reason: it does not fetch them much. In fact, they say at times it does not fetch them anything at all.

“Rs 2000 is not enough to feed a family,” says Abdul Rehman Ahanger, a 60-year-old blacksmith and one of the three existing German Khaars in the city. Abdul Rehman has been practicing this craft for last 40 years now.

Decades back, entire population of Bandook Khaar Mohalla in old city, was associated with the trade. They would earn good too. “After the manufacturing of guns in the Valley was banned, our trade suffered a lot,” says Abdul Rehman.

Bandook Khaar Mohalla is a small locality in the interiors of Rainawari, Srinagar. Earlier it was inhabited by blacksmiths only, but now people have changed their profession. They are labourers, government and private employees. Only a handful of families are licensed to manufacture and repair guns used for hunting. But the famed German Khaars are not into gun business anymore.

Abdul Rehman adds with a smile, “every trade has its ups and downs, we too had a few setbacks in the past but this time it won’t flourish again.”

He says with conviction, “after three of us [Abdul Rehman Ahanger, Habibullah Ahanger, and Ghulam Mohiuddin Ahanger] you won’t find a German Khaar in the Valley. This craft will die with us”.

Not even their children are interested to get into this business. But Abdul Rehman’s son is somewhat helping his father to earn good. The father son duo takes assignment from the military men in the Valley.

“We make name plates, flags, badges, medals, alphabets and many other things and we only cater to the military men,” says Abdul Rehman, whose son owns a shop in Sonawar near army cantonment.”

But since 1989, after the eruption of armed insurgency in Kashmir, these gun-makers saw their businesses shrinking.    Earlier Army officers used to visit these German Khars personally for new guns and repairs, but now third party interference gulps most of the percentage from the profit.

Apart from Abdul Rehman Ahanger, Habibullah Ahanger, 90, and Ghulam Mohiuddin Ahanger, 70, are also famous as German Khaars.

They basically are blacksmiths but their talent and genius minds have compelled Maharaja to call them ‘German Khaar’.

“It was the Maharaja who named us German Khaars,” remembers Abdul Rehman. His elders have told him, he says, that once Maharaja got a gift from somewhere, perhaps some foreign country and no one in the Valley could open it expect Ahangers of Bandookh Khaar Mohalla. Since then they became favourites of Maharaja and became famous for their work and genius minds.

The unique German Khaar don’t only play with iron as other blacksmiths, but do use other metals, in fact all metals including copper, iron, steel, silver and even gold while repairing and creating replicas, says Habibullah, “we are not just blacksmiths, we are craftsmen. We even play with wood.”

Habibullah, along with his uncles and grandfather, used to make silver and gold boxes for Maharaja who was punctilious about the intricacies and minute details of his belongings. “We have designed a lot of boxes, wrist watches, cigarette pipes, tobacco pipes, cigarette cases for Dogra rulers from time to time.”

Habibullah is in his nineties. He is too weak and cannot stand without a support, but he makes it a point to come over to the workshop daily at 10 in morning and leaves at 5 or 6 in the evening. He is practicing the craft for last 80 years now.

During good old days, when the flow of work was good, Habibullah’s family had reserved entire ground floor of their house for workshop. At times 19 people, all relatives, would work as German Khaar at the workshop, remembers Habibullah.

But as time passed and things started to change, and after the death of most of the famed craftsmen in his team, the size of Habibullah’s workshop has shrunken too. Now what remains of that large workshop is just a small bed-sized room build inside the house. Rest of it is gone, or made useful to accommodate family members.

An expert of repairing and creating a replica of fishing apparatus, Habibullah takes up a new assignment daily and most of the times gets it done within a day, praises Abdul Rehman.

Considered the sharpest of all, Habibullah is the most educated among the three. He has been to school till class eighth. “I never felt I am an illiterate,” he says with a fumble and a toothless smile, “I can do what others can’t!”

But, he complains, the government could never pay us back. “In our tough times, the government could have helped us with some stipend or could have supported us in some way so that we could train new youth. Anyways,” he sighs, “we lived our life and served the way we could.”

“Mufti Sayeed in his last tenure promised us he will provide us with pension but he came, ruled and forgot,” rues Habibullah.

Habibullah has two children – a son and a daughter and both are married. His son is done with his education and is now working in a private company.

The third one, Ghulam Mohiuddin Ahanger, 70, the youngest of three is an expert of medical instruments.

He can repair and replicate any foreign medical instrument and machines.

Ahangar’s workshop, which is located inside his home, is full of medical equipment.

“You keep any medical instrument or a machine, no matter how big and small it is, in front of him, he will create a replica of it in a day,” says Abdul Rehman.

“After, say 20 years, when all of us will be dead, nobody will know that Kashmir ever had such talented minds who could match with the best in world,” says Abdul Rehman in a satirical tone. “But then who really cares about a blacksmith in today world!”

Love for research took a Sopore born scientist to one of the best laboratories in America where he toiled hard to unearth the genetic behaviour, reports Saima Rashid  

In ever-evolving scientific world, fascinating experiments keep altering the outlook of human life. One such experiment happened recently when a Kashmiri born scientist in America used yeast, a unicellular organism known to be used in bread and beverage preparation, as a tool to test human genes.

The experiment was done by Dr Ashiq Hussain Kachroo along with his other post doctoral researchers, at University of Texas (Austin). The team carried out a lauding experiment on Baker’s yeast and transformed this single-celled organism to behave more like humans at a molecular level by a process called “humanisation of yeast”.

“This is something happening for the first time,” said Dr Hussain. “Scientists can now put a human gene in yeast cell to check if it will work well in yeast and moreover can tell us, if a certain human gene causes a disease, then you can simply try a specific drug for that disorder without affecting the other pairs.”

A son of retired teachers, Dr Hussain was born and brought up in north Kashmir’s Sopore. During his school days at Sopore’s Iqbal Memorial Public School, he was more into physics and chemistry, and less into biology. “It may sound strange, but biology never interested me,” he said. “But see the fate; I am now a scientist of molecular biology. I mean, you never know, when and where your interest shifts.”

After passing his class 12 in medical stream, he appeared in JKCET but was selected on payment seat. “My father wanted me to be a doctor,” he said, “and I was simply following his words, but getting admission on payment seat wasn’t acceptable to me. So, I gave up and joined Govt degree college Sopore for Bachelors instead.”

For the next three years, Dr Hussain was battling to give direction to his life. The confusion prevailed till he reached Kashmir University for pursuing Masters in Biochemistry and ended up meeting his mentor Dr Khursheed Iqbal Andrabi, the incumbent Vice Chancellor of the varsity. “He (Dr Andrabi) actually taught us (students) research not books,” he said. “University was fun. We used to have picnics every year outside Kashmir to visit scientific labs.” During one such trip, he visited IISC (Indian Institute of Science) Bangalore.

IISC Bangalore was his dream institute to pursue his PhD from, as some heavyweight scientists like CV Raman, CNR Rao, G Padmanabhan and others were part of it. To clear his doctoral decks, he appeared in All India level entrance test and availed a research slot in IISC. “The place is full of science,” he said, “it enhanced my scientific aptitude.”

It was at IISC, Dr Hussain started making forays in US universities for post doctorate. And the moment his PhD paper in molecular biology was published, it was ranked 19th worldwide and 8th in US.

Once out of IISC, he wanted to do research in Genome Engineering and Synthetic Biology. It was in the same quest, he secured a chance to do his post doctorate from University of Texas at Austin, where he started his research project with Dr Edward M Marcotte, Prof molecular sciences and co-director centre and systems of synthetic biology, in Oct 2010.

And with that begins the five year journey to experiment and publish “humanisation of yeast project”.

The basis behind the experiment was the assertion that humans in no way look like yeast but share thousands of genes with yeast cells. Dr Hussain said they are recognizable and this is because a billion years ago, “we had a common ancestor and we would like to know if their genes work the same way like ours. And for that, we carried out this experiment.”

To perform the experiment, they created hundreds of genetically engineered strains of yeasts, called humanised yeast. Each strain had a disabled yeast gene and a human version of the gene that they could either turn on or off. The human gene acted like a “kill switch”. “And if one turns off the human gene, the cell would die. If we would turn on the human gene, we would see if it is capable of living on active human gene,” he said.

For each gene pair, they tested with the human gene on and off. And with control groups, they were sure of the tests. They tested each pair of gene in three different ways. All of that added to thousands of mini experiments for about four years. The researchers found that half of the 450 yeast genes could grow and reproduce with just the human version. All the human genes roughly around 450 were obtained from Harvard University generated collection.

“We had over 30 news reports on this publication and top US journals published them, like Discovery News, Science daily, MeteoWeb (in Italian), NBS News, Washington Post and many more,” Dr Hussain said. “This was a crazy experiment. I had no idea whether it would be a complete failure or success. But, it was a great success.”

The events of 9/11 made this Kashmiri doctor change his career and learn disaster rescue. He learned flying too. Syed Asma talks to Sohail Nasti, a man who is in a process of changing the way Kashmir’s healthcare sectors responds to disasters 

When asked to define himself, he answers, Sohail Nasti is a person who wants to be different. And perhaps he has lived up to his definition!

Sohail is practising a rare combination. He is working as a disaster medical specialist and has the distinction of being the first rescue pilot from Jammu and Kashmir.

Born in Islamabad in south Kashmir, Sohail has completed did his graduation from Srinagar’s Jhelum Valley College. After completing his graduation he started practicing medicine in the valley.

“Though, I served the people in far flung areas but somehow I was not satisfied with what I was doing. Besides, I wasn’t satisfied with the health system in Kashmir,” says Dr (capt) Sohail Nasti.

Coming from a family of 32 doctors, Sohail says, he wanted to do more than prescribing medicines to patients.

So, he thought of going into research and as a rheumatologist he picked up a topic, ‘post traumatic disorder and inflammatory diseases’. He sent a synopsis to the University of Chicago and after a series of examinations he got through. He started working on the topic in 2003. The research took him two years and he finally got a degree in Rheumatologic Clinical Practices.

Later, he went for another specialised degree in Rheumatology from UK, a musculoskeletal arthroscopy degree from Germany and a PG Rheumatology from Prague.

While studying the subject he was made to work in places hit by natural disasters. “I visited the tsunami hit places besides, Pakistan, Japan and Haiti after they were hit by earthquake.”

Though while studying, he says, he learnt a lot about disaster management but he wanted to have a formal training in it.  Likewise, he decided to study disaster medicine and become a rescue pilot. He went to London and did a couple of courses – PGDS in Conflict and Disaster Medicine, a short course in disaster survival programmes in Territorial Army, certificate in ELS, and a diploma in Business Management and Entrepreneurship.

“Being a medical specialist, a pilot and trained to manage disasters, you are a perfect choice to work in any place in the world which is hit by a disaster or is a conflict ridden place,” believes Sohail.

He never planned to become a rescue pilot but, he says, the incident of 9/11 made him to think this way.

“After 9/11, we all know how Muslims were looked upon in the world, especially in the West. So, I chose to do my bit and I switched over my profession,” says Sohail, “I wanted to pursue a job which would clear the maligned image of Muslims across the globe and I could not find a better job than this.”

Having worked with American Marines and United Nations, Sohail is now working as a consultant to humanitarian agencies and a consultant in disaster preparedness.  Besides he authored a book and is invited to different universities to deliver lectures regarding the same [disaster preparedness].

Sohail also runs an NGO, ‘Mother Helpage’. He says, it was he was who suggested putting a security check for the Internally Displaced People (IDP) in Haiti.

“I don’t know how I got this idea but on checking the ground situation we found it important to establish filtration camps in there,” says Sohail. “We found any place hit by conflict or disaster is more prone to trafficking of drugs, guns and even trafficking of humans. Our gate keeping helped a lot to put many things at a right place.”

In 1994, after Sohail lost his mother, he started an NGO. “The trauma of her death stayed with me for a long time,” Sohail remembers. His mother died of brain haemorrhage at the age of 41. “After her death, I think I could relate more with people’s pain.”

In 1994, when he was still a student, Sohail could not do much and the NGO was shelved briefly.

The same was re-launched after Sohail came to Chicago. Currently his NGO works in at least 20 countries, with its main office stationed in London.  NGO’s work is divided into two sectors: emergency and development sector. Gaza, Syria and some parts of Africa cover their emergency sectors while developmental programs are run in countries like Albania, Nepal, Sri Lanka, Indonesia and other parts of Africa.

In 1994, he used to distribute food in curfew ridden areas and organise small medical camps.

More than two decades later, before the September 2014 floods, he came back and offered the state government that he will train the state policemen in disaster preparedness, but they did not agree.

“I thought it is the time to serve my own people but somehow the proposal didn’t go through and then we were hit by worst kinds of floods,” says Sohail.

“After the valley was inundated in flood waters,” Sohail says, “I wished to get in helicopters for the rescue operations in the Valley but for security reasons it wasn’t allowed.”

So, he chose to operate from Delhi and send relief to Kashmir for almost two weeks. After that he moved in here and apart from distributing relief and arranging temporary shelters, he hired a couple of land movers to clear roads in Pulwama, Shopian and Tral which were cut-off from the rest of the Valley.

He says, he is interested to work in Kashmir and a few projects are in the pipeline. With state governments help, Sohial is planning to launch a project to improve the overall health care in Kashmir. “We are planning to keep one critical care ambulance in the radius of 100 Kms,” shares Sohail. “It is a public-private partnership and I would be providing the ambulances including ventilators and other critical care facilities, worth Rs 25-30 Lakh and the state is supposed to provide a doctor, nurse and a driver.”

Initially, Sohail will start with only two ambulances and seeing the response and the impact will increase the supply. He says he wants to bring positive change in the health care system.

When asked if Kashmir’s ailing health care sector can be changed at all, he replies with a laughter and said, “Since the day I learnt to fly a plane, I seriously have a belief that anything is possible.”

Last September’s devastating floods left an impression on young Saqib Gulzar’s mind. In less than a year’s time, he came up with an award winning paper on Jhelum. Saima Rashid reports his feat and efforts

September 7, 2014 floods left none unscathed. There was no guarantee that another flood of the same intensity won’t hit Kashmir again.

The flood affected houses were soon categorized into partly damaged and fully damaged ones. Latter was like a dormant volcano which can erupt any time. Saqib Gulzar, an Engineering student compiled a book which can be a roadmap to rebuild Kashmir.

In January 2014, his research paper on Jhelum won him the best paper award at an international conference in Nagpur. He is the author of the book titled: Preliminary Guidelines for Repair, Restoration, Retrofitting and Rebuilding of Building Structures in Flood Affected areas of Jammu and Kashmir.

Saqib Gulzar, a final year civil Engineering student at NIT Srinagar likes to call himself jack of all trades and master of none. He is an engineer, innovator, researcher, orator, a leader and an artist.  “I am an unknown warrior who tries to be a little bit of everything,” says Saqib.

Saqib did his schooling from Valley’s prestigious institution, Green Valley Educational Institute. After completing his 12th in Non medical stream, he appeared in AIEEE test and got selected at NIT Srinagar as Civil Engineering student.

“Engineering is my passion, because I found it an application of fundamental sciences where you can address the needs of society directly,” says Saqib. “It is globally acknowledged field with highest local application particularly in developing countries.”

Saqib, a meritorious student throughout his career, topped all the eight semesters of his degree. “I never intended to study for being on the top of the list, but then it is my hardwork which doesn’t let me escape from No 1 position,” says Saqib gleefully.

Saqib says attending conferences, seminars and workshops across India gave him much needed confidence and exposure.

Saqib has already got 10 papers published in various reputed national and international journals. His field of research is: structural engineering, earthquake engineering, sustainable infrastructure development, water resource engineering and transport engineering.

“Floods left a great impact on everybody’s mind. And I was not an exception,” says Saqib. “Being an engineer, I thought of creating something which can make help us become active audiences at the time of disasters.”

The book is based on field survey of the flood affected areas, exhaustive literature survey, currently available research and global documents written on the same issue.

“It is not a novel, which I will document all on my own. But it is something factual and practical which demands you to do a lot of research, collect data etc.,” says Saqib.

The book also contains guidelines intended to help the people of Jammu and Kashmir to build a safer environment against the natural disasters particularly earthquakes and floods.

“After September 2014 floods caused colossal losses to the infrastructure, we at NIT Srinagar thought of coming up with preliminary guidelines followed by comprehensive and exhaustive guidelines pertaining to the repair and restoration of flood damaged structures,” says Saqib.

After continuous deliberations the team decided to incorporate seismic retrofitting guidelines as well owing to the fact that parts of Jammu and Kashmir falls under the High-risk earthquake zone, thereby intending to make flood damaged structures earthquake resistant.

Saqib is a role model for his fellow students. He was elected as President of Institution of Civil Engineers (United Kingdom) for the year 2014-2015. He is nominated in President’s Secretariat to represent NIT this year.

Besides, Saqib has earned student membership in the reputed Engineering societies like American Society of Civil Engineers, Institution of civil Engineers (UK), Institution of Engineers (India).

“All these achievements would have been impossible without the support of my loving mother,” says Saqib.

Ved Bhasin

By Dr Ghulam Nabi Fai

Ved Bhasin, the chairman of the Kashmir Times group of publications passed away on November 5, 2015 in Jammu. With the passing of a journalist par excellence, who was a symbol of humanity and a champion of freedom of expression, it is the end of an era.

Ved Ji was an institution by himself. He was a great friend of voiceless people and a fearless advocate of human rights and human dignity.

He was an icon of fair and balanced journalism and certainly one of the most recognizable experts on the subject of Kashmir.

I had the honour of meeting with him in January 1994 when he was invited by ‘United States Institute of Peace’ to participate in a workshop on the subject of Kashmir. The workshop was held in suburban Washington DC and lasted for two days.

Ambassador Yusuf Buch, a Kashmiri American icon, who also attended the workshop, told me later that “Bhasin’s ideas were practical” that created a lot of interest during the Q&A session.

Bhasin had suggested, he told me, that the Right of Self Determination cannot remain confined to either deciding to join India or Pakistan. “It can be an independent state as well, it is for the people of the State to decide. No solution can be found by ignoring the people of Jammu and Kashmir, who are the basic party to the Kashmir dispute,” he quoted Ved as having said.

Ved Sahib was the firm believer of tripartite dialogue between India, Pakistan and Kashmiri leadership. He said at the Capitol Hill, Washington, DC in 2004, “The solution of the Kashmir dispute can be found through the process of dialogue but that dialogue cannot be only between India and Pakistan, but, primarily, it is a dialogue that must involve the people of Jammu and Kashmir. Without the people of the Jammu and Kashmir State dialogue can never succeed.”

Ved had the clarity of vision about the future of Kashmir. There were no ifs, and buts in his approach. He was bold enough to say it loud and clear that the only solution of Kashmir dispute is an independent state in South Asia. Ved visualized a democratic, secular, independent Jammu and Kashmir as the ideal solution. To him, that solution was the only practical solution that could satisfy, by and large, the urges and aspirations of the largest number of people in Jammu and Kashmir.

While meeting with a senior official of the State Department, Ved Ji told the official that the status quo and / or division of Kashmir were not solutions. Ved Ji said that the people will never accept the status quo as an option. He added, “the artificially divided Cease-fire Line, which not only divided the territory of the State but also divides family members. That line cannot be acceptable to the people of the State. That artificial division, whether called the line of control has actually added to miseries and suffering of the people of Jammu and Kashmir.”

When a United States Senator asked Ved Ji how to proceed to help set a stage for the settlement of the Kashmir dispute? Ved suggested without any hesitation a two-phase withdrawal of troops by India and Pakistan from the whole state. Ved added that there should be elections for the two assemblies, on the Indian and Pakistani sides of the state and the institution of a common council to discuss common issues such as tourism. The line of control would be made porous and there would be free movement of people and goods. This, Ved suggested, could be tried for a period of five years after which there could be an election for a united Constituent Assembly for the entire state, whose members would then determine the state’s status as part of India, Pakistan or whether to become independent. “We should be,” reiterated Ved Ji, “like the Switzerland of South Asia: that situation will fully satisfy aspirations of the people of the State and will lead to peace in India and Pakistan.”

Ved was the key-note speaker at an International Peace Conference held at Montevideo, Uruguay (Central America) in 2007, which was also addressed by General Ricardo Galarza of Uruguay, former Chief of ‘United Nations Military Observer Group of India and Pakistan’ (UNMOGIP)’ Ved Sahib reiterated “the Jammu and Kashmir problem has to be solved by peaceful methods.

He suggested a just and peaceful solution that is acceptable to the people of the State, belonging to different areas and various religious creeds, groups, communities. He believed that such a kind of solution can be found only through a process of dialogue and a process of reconciliation.

He was a firm believer of a non-violent resistance in Kashmir. In Uruguay he also said, “I, for one, believe that the gun is no solution. The gun cannot resolve the Kashmir crisis. Of course, as I said, I am opposed to the cult of gun, to the use of gun, but, at the same time, we must understand why the peaceful people of Kashmir who are inspired by the glorious traditions of tolerance, peace and non-violence, they were forced to guns in 1989 and after this. And I must concede that it is because of this gun that the Indian authorities were forced to concede that there exists something called the Kashmir dispute and it needs to be resolved.”

Dr Ghulam Nabi Fai

Ved Ji never compromised on the basic principles of the Kashmir dispute. He spoke in New York City on February 24, 2005, “It has been stated that Kashmir is a dispute between India and Pakistan. I personally think that there is primarily only one party to the dispute and that is the people of the State. India and Pakistan are only secondary parties. They came there because both claim that Kashmir belongs to them. Otherwise, primarily it is the problem of the people, related to their fundamental and inalienable right to decide their own future.”

The people of the State lost an iconic leader in the field of journalism. May Ved Ji’s soul rest in peace!

Views are of Dr Fai, who  is the Secretary General of World Kashmir Awareness.

With demise of Ved Bhasin, Kashmir lost an iconic fighter for secularism, democracy, free speech, liberalism and justice. But Masood Hussain, who closely worked with him in the most crucial era of Kashmir’s troubled past, says the legendry editor’s fearless battle to remain objective in the darkest days laid the foundation of the narrative that Kashmir flaunts now

Ved Bhasin was always part of track-II diplomacy on Kashmir.

Last week, Ved Bhasin, the iconic editor of The Kashmir Times (KT), died at 86. For slightly more than three years, he stayed away from his Residency Road chamber, skipping a formal responsibility in editing the newspaper he nourished for more than 60 years.

Ved Ji lived an interestingly eventful life. He would get distinguished even in routine. For most of his life, he skipped following any diet regime, was a voracious wazwaan eater and would drink too. A chain-smoker, he would fell asleep in his chair forgetting the blazing cigarettes between his lips. If people would not be around, he would burn his clothes and then laugh at it. He rarely took his doctors seriously till he was limited to the wheel-chair.

Nobody in J&K knew the art of decent and fearless defiance as he knew, practiced and preached. In fact, the birth of KT was an expression of defiance that the situation of J&K required at that point of time.

Ved Ji’s first love was politics but his closeness with politicians pushed him towards journalism. His proximity with the powers helped him understand that all that glitters was not gold. After Sheikh Abdullah, his leader, was deposed in 1953, Ved Ji would write against the undemocratic move in his Naya Samaj. Bakhshi government banned this newspaper under notoriously abused Defence of India Rules in 1954 and expelled him. Then, from Delhi he started Kashmir Times but its copies would be seized by the state government at its borders. He came to Srinagar and tried for a title and was promised one if he deposited Rs 2000 as security, a huge amount in 1954.

Then, he utilized the services of a contractor friend in Jammu to manage a declaration. The newspaper started from Jammu, was shifted to Srinagar and later resumed its publication from Jammu again when it became a daily publication in 1971. With the newspaper engaging him totally, he divorced his political ambitions but retained his friends.

“Frank. Have you joined National Conference?” Ved Ji asked me on phone, one cold afternoon in 1997 winter when Dr Farooq Abdullah government was around five months old. He would usually address me as Frank Morris!

With DS Rana and Gurdas Mann

“Why, Sir? Why should I join NC?” I responded.

“Your reporting says that,” he said.

“It has to be like that. In the new government lot many people see they have many shoulders to cry upon. It has barely taken over, let us give them some time before we start reporting their performance,” I explained.

“OK. How much time, you think, they would require,” prompt came the question.

“A year, or so.”

With his wife, mother and daughter.

I received no such calls later. The subsequent years recorded the reportage that events dictated but my editor never regretted for being slightly more accommodative towards NC, the party as a member of which he once was expelled. Contrary to the propaganda that a section of NC would frequently resort to between 1998 and 2002 dubbing KT as Mufti Times (Mufti Sayeed and Ved Ji have remained fast friends), the fact is that Ved Ji had more friends in NC than PDP! But the propaganda was so deep-rooted that when my interview with Omar Abdullah, well before his entry into politics, splashed on one full page, even Omar was shocked. As key KT reporter for a long time, I never heard of a direction that a particular political party must get a preference over any other one. The policy, however, was that nobody should be ignored.

But KT coverage followed a procedure. For more than 15 years, the lead story in KT remained the same: the casualty figure of the day. I am personally witness to dozens of pleas, even by his friends, suggesting that the blood-soaked “boring” headline should pave way for something different. Ved Ji always accepted he would consider. But eventually it remained unchanged. The logic: no development in a society is as important as death of a human being, regardless of the circumstances. The policy diluted with his gradual disengagement with the desk coinciding with the fall in violence.

This professional approach to Kashmir situation was fundamental to the narrative that evolved in last nearly three decades. Ved Ji refused to take advices on reportage from Kashmir. He even accepted to stay away from Kashmir market when JKLF, later Hizb ul Mujahideen and other militant outfits banned KT circulation in Kashmir, but refused to follow their dictates.

In 1996 Lok Sabha elections, government and militants wanted to enforce their writ on newspapers forcing a media blackout for a few days. Later in run-up to assembly elections in the same year, all Kashmir newspapers ceased their publications. The government managed it informally. But KT stayed out because nobody in the government had the courage to negotiate it with Ved Ji. The government had burnt its boats already by stopping publishing its advertisements in KT for many years.

With his wife.

As Kashmir Press remained locked in run-up to polls, Ved Ji hired a taxi for nearly three weeks (it indicates the investment he would encourage for news gathering) to get me travel into the remotest corners of Kashmir to understand the mood on ground zero. That was a rediscovery of Kashmir for me as I went into areas; perhaps no journalist had tried between 1990 and 1996. In routine, journalists would usually go to areas where major militancy related incidents would take place.

Had Ved Ji given in to the blackmail of the governance structure in 1990 and toed the official line, I believe Kashmir may not have recorded its history to the detail it now boasts of. He set the trend and protected the real narrative from being diluted by the propaganda weaved from Delhi and Raj Bhawan in Srinagar. Any book that skips consulting KT for 1988-2002 era may not be history, I firmly believe.

With his daughter’s , son-in-law and grand daughter.

A reporter’s editor, Ved Ji had always resource crunch to pay his reporters better. Sometimes, he would also admit that it should be called honorarium rather than the salary. This was key to KT’s failure in retaining the talent it created. But he would support them in their journalistic endeavours and would ensure they are on the right trajectory. For every single story, I have had response from the editor, good or bad.

One afternoon, I saw an upset editor basking under autumn sky in the office lawns only to find that he had been invited by the VC and faculty of University of Kashmir. They had petitioned my editor against my campus reportage. The next morning he told me not to stop. A month later, I learnt that the then VC had sought help from JKLF renegade Basharat to discipline me. I considered the situation at individual level – it was reporting campus at the cost of life. I decided against covering the University of Kashmir. If VC of a university goes to this extent of getting the life of a reporter, what should be the limit of a lecturer or a peon? Since then I have never written a word on the University!

Meeting an officer in a delegation that Shameem A Shameem led.

O N Koul, another illustrious editor who managed KT desk at one point of time had very strong likes and dislikes. Sometimes he would not use particular reports filed from Srinagar. I used to complain to Ved Ji and he would always tell me, “Send this weekend, I will take care of it.” Weekends would be off for Koul Sahab.

To what extent can Ved Ji support his reporter was demonstrated when Iftikhar Gilani was arrested by Delhi Police and slapped with Official Secrets Act. Given the scary charges, editors seldom move an extra mile in protecting their subordinates. He did it because he only could do that.

While the stagnation in his cherished product has partly to do with what it reported in the larger interest of history and ethical journalism (advertisements were initially denied by the state and later by the DAVP), I believe Ved Ji was partly responsible because of his nature. At the peak of militancy, Kashmir’s main newspaper distributor was keen to circulate the KT and was willing to have adequate security deposits. At the last moment, Ved Ji refused. Reason: he worked for most of his life with a particular vendor who died and was survived by his widow. “How can I take this away from her?” he told me, when I insisted he had to take a final call on this. I never raked up the ‘indecent’ proposal later.

Though KT later set up a printing facility in Srinagar, it was caught in the time and space wrap and failed.

During 11 years and in between salary package of Rs 500 to Rs 7000, I saw the media changing completely. I entered with a typewriter, then used tele-printer, upgraded to telex and then to textel. Finally, I oversaw the computerization of the organization in Srinagar and partly in Jammu. I still remember the call I got when I sent the first photograph of a bomb blast using e-mail. “Frank, photo bi e-mail houta hai?” he said. Then, I would scan the positives and convert it into a data file, record in a floppy disk and send it from my home on an undisturbed dial-up internet connection. The biggest crisis was when the internet was withdrawn during the Kargil war. After many frustrating days, I somehow discovered an MTNL number in Delhi that I would access from Srinagar (STD line) and then Jammu office would do the same thing to retrieve it.

Carefully listening Sheikh Abdullah.

The editor who would perpetually be hunting for talent, more in Jammu than Kashmir, barely gave any attention to the business part of his company. Later he got increasingly busy with his social commitments and would normally attend a function a day. An impressive orator with a distinct style of storytelling, he was always in demand. Then his vast friend circle would take over.

Every time I would meet him – the last meeting was in April at his Gandhi Nagar residence when he would use wheel chair for movement, I would complain his delay in not writing his interesting rich life. I was keen that this God-fearing atheist would not leave this world without telling us what he knew, confronted, heard and did. I am told he had planned it at one stage and had even thought of a title. He barely missed writing it. But that is what life is all about. May be it starts a series of PhDs thesis on his life and contributions to the field of politics, media and civil liberties.

From L to R, Bansi Parimu, Sofi Ghulam Mohammad, Ved Bhasin, Shamim A Shamim.

The man was in love with Kashmir. He would get angry over small things concerning Kashmir. He compromised with his well being for its sake. Every year, he would spend months in Srinagar, with friends and in his office. A peace activist and a strong votary of India-Pakistan friendship, he would meet all leaders across the ideological divide for hours. Once cops prevented him from entering Geelani’s Hyderpora residence, and it created a law and order problem which eventually settled with Geelani coming out and taking his guest in. The day his close friend Abdul Gani Lone was laid to rest, crowds shouted slogans for him. But they did not know his name: the slogan was ‘Ved Mahajan, Zindabad’.

Sheikh and Bhasin listening DD Thakur.

One summer, we spent almost a day trying to locate the name he had inscribed on a Shalimar garden pillar when he had driven his bride to Srinagar on honeymoon. In April, I could feel his urge to fly to Srinagar but the family failed locating a house having facility of getting in with a wheelchair. Homes having that facility were flood soaked. That is how destiny works.

 Unlike his counterparts, sociologist Bashir A Dabla (July 9, 1954 – September 2, 2015) was always preoccupied with his mission of understanding the trends in Kashmir society that people usually considered routine. He rarely stopped working despite Parkinson’s disease handicapped him for 23 years, Masood Hussain and Dr Khursheed ul Islam offer an idea of the contributions that made this academician relevant to the society

In November 1999, when Bashir Ahmad Dabla came out with the findings of his marathon study involving a universe of 4800 people, people were shocked. It found Mehr, a fundamental religious obligation and legal requirement for Muslim marriages, was paid fully in 29.97 percent cases!

The study aimed at identifying the areas in which Kashmir’s half of the population, the women, were discriminated against by the male dominated society, the study found that in 21.75 percent cases husbands paid Mehr to their wives in installments. In 28.50 percent cases, the respondent women were unsure if they have received their Mehr or not and, interestingly, nothing had been paid in the name of Mehr in 19.77 percent marriages!

Explaining the phenomenon, researchers found weak economy of grooms or their ignorance was slightly more than those consciously giving it a slip. However, the study found the percentage of grooms making the one-time payment was gradually increasing, a direct consequence of the awareness brought about by the decontrolled faith.

The second major revelation was that Kashmir society was denying women their right to inherit property in more than 55 percent cases. Explaining the trend, the study said in most of the cases either the parents had meager immovable property to share it with daughters or they were married in families which lacked any requirement to seek meager shares. While Mehr amount is a consensus between two sides, Islam’s inheritance systems are fixed and women get half of the share, their brothers get.

There were a few more shocking findings: 175 of the 789 working women said they were harassed at work place and it was physical in 38 percent of the cases. They accused their immediate officers in 46 percent cases, their colleagues in 42 percent cases and the balance harassers were outside the office. Interestingly, 28.31 percent respondents said their families were discriminating the girl child. Tragically 871 women voiced their support for female foeticide!

The institution of marriage, as per various studied that he supervised, has undergone a number of changes. In a 2010 survey that his students carried out and involved 2500 respondents, they found polygamy almost dead. Survey revealed 83.90 percent marriages were monogamous and only 8.20 percent were polygamous. This study found more people marrying outside the clan (54.80%) than within the extended family or caste (45.35%), a major shift from the past. Interestingly, it found more “upper caste” males marrying lower caste” girls were more (22.76%) than the reverse of it (14.15%). Besides, the survey found out that nuclear families are increasing.

It was his UNICEF-sponsored study on gender discrimination that prompted the then Chief Minister Dr Farooq Abdullaha to announce establishment of State Women’s Commission.

Dabla’s scholarship took off from Jawharlal Nehru University where he studied Arab during which he visited various destinations in the Gulf, West Asia and Turkey. Eventually, however, he settled down in Kashmir Studies and contributing substantially. He took up Kashmir case at a time when a new situation has started impacted the society differently. His series of studies on destitution was a key contribution in making the society responsive to ‘that’ new situation and try to manage it.

The pioneering work on destitution was carried out in 1999 itself for ‘Save The Children Fund’. After the researchers interacted with 300 women widowed by the situation, the real contribution of diverse killers was understand: 63 of them lost their husbands when they were caught in the crossfire; 78 by government forces, 45 were killed in custody of various agencies, 51 were killed by surrendered militants, 15 died at the LoC, 27 were killed by militants and the balance 21 died in the bomb explosions.

With their immediate bread-earners dead, they lived a pathetic life. Nearly 47 percent of them had married during 1981-90 period and nearly 39 percent of them were in 19-30 age group. With their husbands slain, 20 percent of them were denied any inheritance and 60 percent lacked any dependable resource to fund education of their children, orphaned by the situation.

Despite remarriages not being taboo, only 8.66 percent (26 out of 300) had re-married. While remarriage was a compromise, 35 percent of them had kept their orphans with grand parents. For not marrying, widows said they will devote themselves for development of their children, instead.

Insisting that theirs’ was a “socially undesirable lot” facing “physical insecurity and sexual harassment”, the widows flagged 13 serious issues they were facing: their children lacking education,  dependence, insecurity, deterioration  in  the family environment, declining control   over children, negative impact on personality growth, lesser  chances  of getting  good  matches  for  the children, denial to inherit property.

The state of orphans was worse. Of 300 orphans covered by the same study, 27.33 percent were not going to school and 19 percent had dropped out before matriculation. 82 orphans were not in school – of them 39  were sitting idle at home,  three  were home servants, 31 were in handicraft workers, and  three  each were in  automobile  workshops,  non-government  services,  and salesmen. In return, they were getting pea-nuts despite the desire expressed by 93 percent of them that they wish to study further.

Orphans told the surveyors that death of their fathers meant a massive shift in the lives they were used to: 145 reported economic  hardships of their families,  66  felt psychological setbacks, 41 saw love and affection missing,  26 felt apathy by relatives and 22 were blank, offering no response. The ‘change’ brought in new priorities for them: 235 wanted to maintain regular income for their families, 240 to pursue studies and 148 wanted social security.

To study the diversity of Kashmir’s sociology, Dabla successfully negotiated with UNICEF, World Bank, UNESCO, Save the Children Fund, Action Aid, UGC, Planning Commission of India (now Niti Ayog) and many other institutions. Apart from routine basic sociological issues, Dabla carried out special studies in energy sector (like his ethnographic study for upcoming Sawlakote project), and disaster management.

Off late, Kashmir’s labour market has been exhibiting interesting trends. It was partly because of the adverse impact of the prevailing situation and partly because of white-color syndrome. The inability of the local manpower to grab the opportunities that the economic activity offered would create a gap that was filled by non-local workforce.

On labour issues, Dabla had two keen interests, one the child labour and second the labour migration. He was a strong believer of the fact that if child labour is banned, as the law suggests, it will adversely impact the families they belong to. Instead, he wanted better wages for them. His response to the issue was rooted in the United Nations policy shift, also upheld by the Planning Commission of India, that instead of banning child labour, interests of the child worker must be taken care of so that exploitation stops.

His ‘Save the Child Fund’ that was published as Un-bloomed Roses put the estimated child workers in carpet weaving Budgam and Srinagar districts at 18,749 and 4004, respectively. Capital city alone had around 3,000 children, half of whom had joined it when they were less than seven years of age, in automobile repairing alone. Economic compulsion was found as the single largest factor forcing children to work in hazardous sectors.

Dabla-piloted studies on labour migration into Kashmir continue to be the only reference outside the decadal census. On basis of personal interviews that his student researchers carried out, Dabla established that 55 percent of the labourers working seasonally in Kashmir belonged to Rs 10,000, a month background and in fact 34 percent of them belonged to a section of society making only half of it.  While 73 percent of them were illiterates, the rest were having some literacy. They originated from different states: 46.93 percent from Bihar, 15.33 percent from UP, 8.86 percent from Gujarat, 8.60 percent from Rajasthan, and 8.14  percent from West Bengal, in addition to some percentage from Punjab, Nepal and Jharkhand.

Almost one-fourth of them (23.85%) were unskilled. Skilled lot included 17.40 percent masons, 10.06 percent each were carpenters and painters, 3.40 percent were barbers, 1.23 percent were vegetable sellers and balance were from other professions.

Majority of them (51.16%) migrated on their own but in 16 percent cases ‘agents’ and another 10.07 percent cases, employers brought them here. Almost 17.21 percent was contract labour, already engaged with contractors working in the state.

The interesting finding on this count was the shifting patterns. His studies found that Kashmir was dependent on merely 5.97 percent of non-local labour between 1980 and 1990. It increased four times to 20.19 percent in the subsequent decade and more than doubled to 51.19 percent between 2000 and 2010.

In 72 percent of cases, respondent labourers admitted they earned better if compared to their past at other places across India. In fact 61 percent said better earnings helped them economically better. Of their overall expenditure they spend locally housing, food and transport make most of it.

Dabla was afflicted by Parikinsons quite early. He fought this condition bravely, which is challenging at a place like Kashmir given the existing medical facilities. Known neurologist, Dr Shushil Razdan commented that his working while facing a challenging disease and survival was a medical wonder. Many people would say Dabla was the Kashmiri variant of Stephen Hawking (British physicist), lacking the specially designed computer.

He would keep himself busy with the issues confronting Kashmir. Not forgetting his humble family background (Pandan, Nowhatta), where handicrafts were the bread and butter, Dabla carried out a study on the earnings of the artisans. His study suggested that almost eighty percent of the workforce was being exploited either by middlemen or exporters.

In 2009, his study indicated behavioural shifts of society towards senior citizens. Quite recently he tried to study the angry new urban child and said he was “socially sadistic” because their “social participation has drastically reduced” coinciding with the loss of “patriarchal authority”. He predicated the continued situation will lead them to be “aggressive, violent, disobedient, and careless about their future and like short cuts to progress.”

Not many people know that prior to his academic assignment; Dabla was Press Officer to the then Chief Minister of J&K Dr Abdullah and latter Chief Warden in the Aligarh Muslim University.

Dabla’s loss as a socially relevant academician would be felt in Kashmir in coming days in the same manner in which mysterious death of Iranian Sociologist Dr Ali Shariatii was felt, many years after his death. Interestingly, Dabla had worked Shariatii and authored a book on his sociological interpretations. The only way out to minimize the costs would be finding some of his bright students and encourage them follow his footsteps.

(Hussain is a Srinagar based journalist and Khursheed teaches in IMPARD. Both have been Dabla’s students.)