‘India will get Veto power by 2020 and then we will show China its place’

A conversation on the banks of Pangong Lake, 150kms from Leh, with a group of troopers posted on Actual Line of Control in Chushul sector of Ladakh



Can we go and see Chinese posts?

Trooper 1: Yes, we can take you but then if seniors come to know, they will stop you and send you back and reprimand us. What is the need?

When Doklam crisis was going on…?

Trooper 1: As you know sir what happened on 15th of August, it happened on the other end of this Lake. They had come 3km inside. They were around 25-26 people and ours were just 10-12 people. They smashed heads of our few men. They have Veto power. We don’t have Veto power, so we cannot use weapons. Then our people pushed a few of them into water. Then around 30 to 33 vehicles came in from their side and our men also went there. But then things cooled down.

Trooper2: They have also moved away from Doklam as well. Officers from both sides meet after every 15 days to raise concerns against each other. Like they ask why are we constructing this or issues like that.

Where are you from…?

They were from different states of north India (names and other details held as they spoke off the record)…This is a good season to come here. From next month weather will get worse.

What does Chinese military say and how do they communicate?
Trooper 1: If they are at fault they will say language problem, ‘No English, No English.’ They are not army, I have heard they are from some party in China…And they have to serve for five years necessarily. They can only get a job after serving here for five years.

Trooper 2: Every household has to sent people for five years in army and here, only then they can get the job, otherwise they cannot get the job.

Trooper 3: If this policy is implemented in India, our country will progress hugely

What is the difference between the two armies?

Trooper 4: They have the facility of vehicles installed with heaters. They remain connected on phone till the last point from their side. But from our side there is no communication network. They come in vehicles in which they have communication systems. We have to climb mountains to reach to that place.

Trooper 3:They have sort of white roads and you will not come to know it is a concrete road. We don’t know what is that road made of.

What else was going on here in last few months?

Trooper 1: We had made a platform on a mountain to unfurl flag on August 15 this year, they raise the issue with New Delhi questioning the construction they had spotted some 14kms away. They forced us to stop immediately. They didn’t allow us to construct anything.

How do your officers commute?

Trooper 1: Seniors officers like DIG rank visit here in helicopters.

Meanwhile a helicopter hovers around.

Is this Chinese helicopter?

Trooper 1: No, no this is ours?

Do Chinese helicopters come here?

Trooper 1 and 2: Their helicopters just come to border. When the situation was hot, I think in July or August, a Chinese fighter jet hovered over the Pangong Lake on our side. They raise objection even if we go anywhere near their border. Our nation is sleeping.

How can you see or describe Chinese army?

Trooper 1, 2 AND 3: They are not physically strong. They are small in height. But they have facilities. For example, where ever there is any altercation they come in their vehicles, there is a verbal brawl or scuffle for sometime and then they will go back into vehicles to warm themselves up and then they come back to restart the argument again. But we are there in the biting cold all the time.

Trooper 1:Have you come in car or bike?

We came in a car.

Trooper 1: You did the right thing. These mad people come here on bikes. You should go to Manali from here.

Where are you from?

Srinagar

Climate is very nice here?

Trooper1: There was snowfall here few days earlier.

Are you here in winters also?

Trooper 1: Yes, it is our duty

Do Chinese cross over in winters as well?

Trooper 2: Yes they come. We have to meet them at least three times a month.

Trooper 3: And when they intrude, we have to go out from here as well and it is so taxing.

Do you get good food here?

Trooper 1: We get good food: Now vegetables will stop as winters are arriving and we will get pulses mostly. But, we don’t feel hungry here in this climate. We just eat two Rotis and Dal. This time weather is fine, but in winters Oxygen level further decreases. All greenery will die.

Trooper 3: This guy survives on one glass of Dal (pointing at another colleague)

How many days will you have to serve here?

Trooper 1: At least three months here on border and three years in Ladakh. I am here for seven months now.

Do you get leaves?

Trooper 3: Yes we get leaves. (Another jet flies)

Trooper 4: This is for patrolling in the area

Trooper 1: This is not the actual Three Idiot point. They are fooling and looting people here. It is a few kms ahead, where the last scene of the film was shot. You should go there.

We have heard that Chinese come inside the border many a time every year? Why do you think they dare to do it all the time?

Trooper 1 and 4: Yes, they come inside, because they don’t accept this as a border. Like, India accepts a certain position as border but they don’t. They come and install a rock somewhere and then we go and throw it away. They come again and do it again and we repeat the same.

You are not authorized to use weapons or react more vociferously?

Trooper 2: Sir, you have to understand that only they can open fire as they have Veto power like America, Russia, Japan and other countries. Like, Pakistan is doing so much, why are we not able to react aggressively. May be we will get this Veto power by 2020, then nobody can do anything. Even China cannot do anything

Trooper 1: Then we can even manufacture weapons of our choice. This is why Pakistan also wants India to go for war right now.

But there is always intense exchange of words and even fire between India and Pakistan but approach is very different with China, why do you think so?

Trooper 1: Sir, Yahi to Majboori Hogayi? Pakistan Ko Tou Hum Ek Raat Main Masal Dein Ge. Kya Hai. But if we start war with China and open fire first, India has to pay all the expenses even from their side as well. We have to pay for Chinese losses as well. It will be very costly affair for India. See how much weaponry and human cost India has to bear from both sides as China has Veto power.

Trooper 4: Also, to fight a war here is not easy. Saans Phool Jaye Paidal Chalne Main? Bhagne Ki Tou Baat Hi Nahi? Kahan Se Hogi Ladai? Mar War Jaye Ga… China B***C*** Gaadi Se Ajaye Ga Aur Hum Paidal Chal Rahe Hain…Saare Dher Ho Jayein Ge…

Trooper 1: Bhai this war will not be fought by humans as was the case in earlier days. Today this is the fight between fighters (jets and missles). Weapons will reach here from Delhi in four minutes, but we have to be cautious and not get caught in those four minutes.

Trooper 2: China is fighting with 13 countries right now. Kahan Kahan fight Kare Ga? Sab Peel Denge Oues Ko.

Trooper 3: America wants that there should be war so that it can sell weapons to everybody. America bahut teez hai. Sala America Ne Pakistan Ko Bol Ke Rakha Hai, Isi Liye Who Ungli Karta Rehta Hai. They are just selling its weapons to all.


Trooper 3: What is the rent of vehicle your boarded?

We paid Rs 8000, but during peak tourist season they charge around Rs 12,000.

Trooper 4: You will go back after a few days, but we have to stay back.

Have you ever punched anybody from the other side?

Trooper 1: I was here when that August 15 thing happened. They are scared. They won’t fight physically one on one. One day one of our man slipped from a hill in Thakum area and came down rolling, but some how managed to stand up easily once he landed. Chinese noticed this and got worried thinking that we have posted some new commandos here, which they were unaware of. Then they later were enquiring what force are these commandos from.

In a separate incident, one of their officers probably came in around 100 meters. Intentionally or unintentionally, we don’t know. But, we got hold of him and thrashed him very badly. But we deleted the recording and took away chip from the camera installed on his body and then pushed him back. We deleted the recordings, otherwise it would have been a huge issue. We thrashed him so bad, I remember. This happened before August. All problems happen in Thakum. They also come in boat sometimes, because it is located on the banks of this lake.

Why have to come on this side of Lake?

Trooper 1: We have come here as communication set up is installed here. We talk to family members. Few of us are unmarried, and two guys are getting married in a few months. We take turns to talk to our family members for few days.

Trooper 2: There is another regiment here, but they don’t mix with us. They are mostly tribals and live happily among themselves. They just need rice and eggs in all the meals.

All the Troopers: Please meet us if you come here again.

Braid Chopping and the Witches of 1990’s in Kashmir

Braid chopping incidents is a reminiscent of mid 90’s when people claimed to have spotted hags roaming around in different localities of Srinagar and other places. Some of them even attacked locals during early hours of the night. Everybody was scared especially, children and women, who feared kidnap. People stopped venturing out, even in their own compounds, after evening. Scared of the unknown danger people were also puzzled over how can somebody--even possessing supernatural powers--never threaten any personnel from the government forces or get noticed by any of them, as there were bunkers and camps in almost every alley of the Kashmir Valley by then.

Whenever the rumor of ‘Spotting the Dain’ spread in any of the areas, people decided to rush on the rooftops, bang respective tin roofs and raise slogans simultaneously to scare away the ‘Dain.’ Some of the brave hearts would manage to reach the local masjid and direct people to do the same through public address systems. Then there were rumors that some people were attacked even on their rooftops and washrooms. The incidents would mostly happen, when there was no electricity in the area, which was a routine those days.

After many weeks, few people claimed to have caught one such witch in Khanyar area of Srinagar, who turned out to be a non-local man wearing black clothing, black mask, carrying a torch, while he was trying to attack a woman who was going towards bathroom inside her compound late evening. The locals couldn’t ascertain his exact identity. Some claimed that he carried a knife and a weapon as well. He was thrashed and then police took him away. What happened to him nobody knows. Then the rumors of few others being caught in other areas spread and finally these incidents declined and ended on their own. Locals blamed ‘agencies’ in their shop parapet gatherings and public transport travel groupings. I was in primary school those days and don’t remember what newspapers wrote on this issue.

However, I remember the fear and apprehension. Toilet, in our house was located almost 80 steps (of those days) from our kitchen in the compound. The long walk to toilet after evening even with an escort was a dreadful task. It felt like passing through a possessed black forest. And all the scary scenes I had ever heard, seen, thought or dreamt of would refresh during this long walk to relieve myself. I remember having watched ‘Evil Dead’ movie at my cousin’s place almost a year before. Every bit of that movie would flash back during this walk. And being able to relive myself properly, with closed eyes and coming back safe was a conqueror’s experience. And, because of fear, I tricked many of my cousins several times those days to get privilege and security of sleeping next to my grandmother consecutively, a chance, otherwise, all of us would get only once a week, for being many in number. The toilet felt like the chief sorceress’s secret chamber, where you would imagine all sorts of skulls hanging, skeletons talking, blood dripping and you waiting for the monster to arrive and devour you, trembling and pants down. It was a terrible phase. And many others may have had much bitter experience that time.

These days, braid chopping incidents have been reported from Jammu to south Kashmir and have travelled to other districts as well. In Jammu 40 incidents were reported, where district administration banned entry of non locals in one district for two months. Nothing more has happened. Some relatives and their children in south Kashmir narrate similar experiences today. Fear of the ‘secret braid chopper’ is once again being used as a weapon to terrorize a population, that has successfully managed to survive every physical and emotional assault on their existence and being.

However, the question that still haunts all of us even after 25years is, who are these new hags? And why is the government response same as it was more than two decades ago. J&K, where the government surveillance is humongous and network of informers of all the government forces is of cob web nature, why are these petty criminal pranksters-- if they are so--still roaming free? Why people in Kulgam made certain claim about an alleged braid chopper? And if there is a gang involved, why isn’t the government able to find its members and motive, at a time, when it has managed to kill more than 150 militants this year and made possible some surrenders, with astute human and technical intelligence and execution. And why have they resorted to laziest method of policing called ‘announcing a reward’ for anybody who informs about the ‘braid choppers.’ Or the other question could be, with primary focus on anti-militancy operations and the reward it fetches has police department lost the ability to investigate the normal crime—if this is so—and is not ready to do all the hard work it needs to exfoliate the nuts and bolts of such crimes.

And the kind of fear and anger that is brewing in population and government’s inability to catch anybody till now will only increase the chances of random innocents being targeted even for a slight suspicion. People even after 25 years are also reaching to same conclusion in shop parapet discussions, masjid conversations and public transport groupings that ‘Agencies are involved in this.’

Dard

Dard Tasannu Ka Mareez Hogaya Hai
Shams Ab Qamar Ka Raqeeb Hogaya Hai

Ramaq Oues Aah Ki Ab Kho Gayi Hai
Yahan Tou Inqlaab Hi Shakeeb Ho Gaya Hai

Raij-ul-Waqt Hai Ulloon Ka Ijma
Nadaan! Neem Hakeem Hi Tabeeb Ho Gaya Hai

Channd Lamhoon Ki Khata Ka Ajer Hai Ye Tou
Har Nafas Yaan Mazloom e Saleeb Hogaya Hai

Umeedoon Ke Matam Ki Ghadi Hai, Ya Khushi Hai?
Suna Hai Shehar Ka Sahookar Gareeb Hogaya Hai

Tasweed e Hajar Ayaan Tou Hai Walekin
Najas ul Aein Wirsay Main Najeeb Ho Gaya Hai

Qayamat Kheez Manzar Bapa Hai Chahar Su
Shumaal Yaan Tou Junoob Ka Habib Ho Gaya Hai

Funeral of Sabzar

On May 27 afternoon, few hours after encounter at Saimu in Tral, around 45 kms from Srinagar in south Kashmir, was over, I reached the encounter spot along with few photojournalists, who were here a second time in a day. They had already frozen the moments when encounter was going on. Till the time bullet ridden bodies of two Hizb-ul-Mujahideen members, Sabzar Ahmad Bhat, 31 and Faizan Ahmad Bhat, 15-- the youngest militant who was killed in Kashmir recently-- were dragged out of the debris and taken into custody by the government forces.

To reach Saimu, one of the quickest routes from Highway, passes through a semi- macadamized road, a stoney path paved in middle of a vast field, followed by a broken wooden bridge over a nallah and a steep alley bifurcating exactly at the encounter spot.

Nobody except a Hurriyat leader Mehraj ud din Kalwal and a few activists were present at this spot. They had somehow managed to reach here. Most of their colleagues were put under house arrest or detained in Srinagar or on way to Tral. They went inside one of the houses in neighborhood, probably, to express sympathy with those, whose houses were bombed to skeleton during the encounter. This village, dominated by the Sikh community, where few hours back hundreds of troopers brandishing war weapons creating deadening noise were stationed, was now deceptively peaceful. Since the right turn on Highway, to enter Tral area, not a single trooper or policeman was visible on the roads. I saw four laborers from Bihar or some other north or central Indian state buying essentials from a half shuttered shop, located barely 100 meters away from the blasted debris.
The spotlight was transported from here. Lots of people, mostly young boys and women were walking in both the directions of the alleys and small roads, leading to nearby Ratsun, the native village of Sabzar. Everybody, without even asking was directing us to Ratsun.

As we managed to make our way on the motorcycle, through contrarily festive crowd, the pro-freedom and pro-Pakistan slogans blaring through some public address systems grew louder and louder.

A group of youngsters, asked us to park our motorcycles and walk towards an open ground. This ground was carved out of the hills, transforming the space into a mini Valley, surrounded by the bushy hillocks on three sides.

The snaky entry to the ground opened into sea of people, raising slogans, wailing, crying and a few siting under the trees brooding silently. All eyes were on the body of Sabzar, laid on a wooden plank covered by Pakistani flag, on an elevated platform made of an old material tractor carrier. His face looked many years younger than his body. His father, with a lurching gait, was sitting on a chair alongside the body, caressing the beard and hair of his son. He was not crying. No tears were falling from his eyes. Locals said, during the encounter, Sabzar made a phone call to his parents, requesting not to cry if he was killed in the encounter. He sought forgiveness and urged them to pray for his ‘eternal peace and success.’
A narrow passage made with the ropes allowed people to walk in line and pass near or touch the body of Sabzar. Hundreds of people, who had arrived from as far as fifty kms from this spot, touched the face of Sabzar. “I am seeking blessings from a martyr,” one of the youngsters said. Another, youngster in his early twenties guiding people to move quickly after touching the body of Sabzar shouted at the photojournalists clicking pictures. “We don’t want any media. You never show the reality. You are a sellout.” However, few others calmed him down. Scores of people were freezing the moments in their mobile phone cameras. Nobody could upload any video or pictures online, as government had suspended Internet and jammed mobile phone networks to avoid any communication flow and escalation of simultaneous protests across Valley. In the background, ‘Fasl-e-Gul Hai… Aye Shaheedo Tum Kahan Ho’ manqabat sung by famous Pakistani Nawaah Khan, Mir Hasan Mir, was resonating from the loudspeaker.

Something indefinable stirred the air. Passionate declarations set ablaze the surroundings. Sky turned red westwards. Afternoon gave birth to evening. Number of birds fluttering around increased dramatically. These warped moments further collapsed the screen between life and desire.

“Lagya Bahudur Panas: Saebo, Saebo” a woman wailed. Another, who probably was remembering her own son joined, “Az Hai Aaey Saeba, Myanae Aashiqoo,”, “Lagya Yaeman Naraen, Saebo Saebo.”

Suddenly, everybody was rushing towards the trees up on the mound. Another Hizb ul Mujahideen member, who claimed to have survived the encounter in which Sabzar was killed, waved at the crowd. And what followed was at least four minutes of continuous sloganeering...
“Nare Takbeer Allah-o-Akbar,” , “Hum Pakistani Hai, Pakistan Hamara Hai, Teri Jaan Meri Jaan Pakistan Pakistan” , “Hum Kya Chahete---Azadi
Hai Haq Hamara… Azadi” , “Asalam Asalam Aye Shaedo Asalam,
Ro Rahi Hai Yeh Zameen, Ro Raha Hai Asmaan” , “Hizbul Mujahideen, Hizbul Mujahideen” “Toiba Toiba: Lashkar Toiba”

In chaste Urdu, this HM member addressed the public. Everybody was silent or occasionally raising slogans.
“Please don’t touch me, I have grenade in my bag. Life cannot be trusted. We are all Burhans and Sabzars. We are all Mujahids. We will show India our strength…” He continued…
“I give open challenge now. There may be some informers in this gathering. Go and tell (Narendra) Modi. Why was my brother Farooq Dar tied to jeep? I will avenge that. There is some DSP Parvez. Go and tell him, Azaan has come. I was living a good life, I left all that.”

Everybody was jostling to touch Azaan. “I appeal everybody to show discipline and allow this Mujahid to go away safely,” a voice from the public address system urged people. He rushed down from the hillock, pierced the crowd and evaporated into the village. The rush sent a few rolling down the mound. Locals told me, earlier Zakir Musa and his associates had also come to see the body of Sabzar and pay tributes. JKLF chairman Yasin Malik had also reached Tral and expressed sympathies with the families.

In the crowd, I spotted two Sikhs, who seemed to be looking at the body of Sabzar with warmth and harmony. I enquired about their presence.“He was our brother. We have played together. He was always there in our village. No encounter has taken place there before this. They were safe there. They are all our brothers. We are not scared. Only media creates impression that they are against any of us (minority). We are hugely saddened. We would proudly say we are from the area of Saeba. He was very healthy and tall...”

At a little distance from the crowd, a blond green-eyed young man, in his twenties, sporting beard, was sitting under a tree. He was staring at Sabzar’s body as if he was constantly communicating. I nudged him into consciousness.

Do you know Sabzar?
Yes, he replied.

“We studied at the same school. We are from same village. I was with Sabzar for 26 days in a Tableeg-i-Jamaat trip before he took up arms,” he said.

And then he narrated the story of Sabzar….
“This is a storybook end to his checkered past. I envy this. He was running a Dhaba on Highway and was involved in all bad things. He was very healthy. Once, he stole a pulsar motorcycle from a compound by lifting it over the wall, alone. This is why he was nicknamed as Saeba Don…”

He continued…

“Then a group of Tableegi Jamaat from Rajpora Pulwama, visited our village and they came to know about this most infamous man of the village. I remember one of them vowed that they would help to transform him into the most pious and famous man of this village and here he is so…” Later, he said, Sabzar wanted to join Burhan Wani’s group. He even contacted him, but Burhan locals claim suggested him to continue offering regular prayers and get in touch after almost six months. Then in 2015, when Burhan’s brother was killed, Sabzar snatched rifle of a trooper, during the protests along with another young boy from the village, Shakir and joined Burhan’s group. And was then seen in fatigues a few months later, in the famous group photograph along with Burhan.

“I must tell you this is the perpendicular way without speed breakers to eternal success,” the green eyed man told me, while pointing at Sabzar’s body. “Everything else is a deception.”

As the Azaan for Magrib prayers started I saw two boys curiously looking at all the photojournalists. I asked about their address. “We have come from Ashmuqam (45kms from Tral). We were protesting here for the whole day…” said one of them, a class 11th student. I asked them about their aim in life. They replied, “Take up arms and fight for justice.” I tried to argue about utility of few hundred young men fighting a huge army. They smirked. I tried to extract an answer. They moved away with a condescending exchange of looks.

Meanwhile, somebody on the loud speaker announced that the final funeral prayer would be held at 11am on May 28. He urged the villagers to accommodate at least couple of guests each, who are staying overnight. He also informed that each house would make arrangements for Sehri—on the first day of Ramzan-- for all the guests, who are staying over. The body of Sabzar would be shifted to his house for the night.

During this announcement, I talked to a 60 year-old man sporting neatly trimmed white beard, wearing a Khan dress. I asked about Zakir Musa’s statement suggesting that Kashmir was an Islamic and not a political issue. He replied, “Nobody can deny that Islam is our way of life. Countries like, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, Iran and others are empowered to establish Shariah or a Caliphate. Not us. We are suffering from a different disease. We are slaves. We have to fight that first. Zakir is impressed with Al Qaeda type ideology and nobody can stop people from thinking or getting inspired.” I can just say one thing, “Dying like this is better than dying on the bed.”

Another youngster, with scarlet cheeks and trembling chin, listening to our conversation intervened, “Mujahids are all same. Let us not differentiate.”

And now the body of Sabzar was being transported to his house. Slogans again roared in the air…
“Go India: Go Back”, “There is only One solution: Gun Solution Gun Solution”
“Tera Bhai Mera Bhai: Sabzar Bhai, Sabzar Bhai”
“Bharat Se Kaho Tayaar Hai Hum: Sangbaaz Hai Hum Sangbaaz Hai Hum”

We then walked towards, where our motorcycles were parked. Lots of locals offered their house for night stay. However, we preferred traveling back to Srinagar and reached at around 9:30pm.

Next morning after Sehri and Fajr prayers were over, we started our journey back to Tral at around 5:00am. The government had announced curfew and restrictions to be imposed at all sensitive places, which was almost across the Valley. Fearing that government forces, on the Highway may not allow us to travel, we started early. On way we spotted army, paramilitary and police getting ready for the day. We passed Saimu village, where Gurbani from a Gurudwara was being recited on the loud speaker and then reached Ratsuna at around 6:15am.

Here, body of Sabzar was already placed, where it was last evening. His father was sitting exactly at the place, where he was yesterday. He was again caressing the beard and hair of Sabzar. Few young men were applying perfume on the body of Sabzar. His father applied perfume on his beard and eyelashes. Many women had already gathered in the ground. Mir Hasan Mir was being played on the loud speaker again.

The rejuvenating morning sunrays were making their way from branches of the trees on the mounds. The spotlight was again on the body of Sabzar. People were assembling.

All of us were trembling with the cold after early morning motorcycle ride. We huddled at a place in the ground, where sun rays made the bright spot. A villager, walked up to us, suggesting that we can take rest for sometime in a nearby house.
We went inside a house and they offered blankets made of mink fur to warm ourselves. They even offered tea, if any of us was not fasting or was a non-muslim. There was no non-mulsim among us. And all of us claimed of fasting.
One of the locals, who guided us towards the house, informed that this was the house of the first ‘martyr’ of Tral Master Ghulam Qadir, who was killed in 1990.
Qadir, a government teacher had resigned from the services and joined Hizb ul Mujahideen.
Later, a schoolteacher, who was probably one of the owners of the house, claimed to know Sabzar very closely. “Sabzar was a changed man now. He once stole safe from Gurudwara. After he joined militancy, he went to Gurudwara and gave back all the money to Sikhs. They refused, but he insisted. And even offered penalty for the act if they wished so. He assured them that he would ask his father to sell a piece of land to pay whatever they would demand.”

As the teacher left the room, all of us sank into sleep. He cam back after a while informing that funeral prayers would be offered immediately at 9am not at scheduled 11am. Hundreds of people had already gathered in this mini-Valley. Some of the photojournalists even missed the top angle view of the prayers. Hurriyat leader Mehraj ud Din Kalwal, who stayed in the village overnight, addressed the gathering.

And the body was now moved towards graveyard in the lawns of the nearby Jama Masjid of the village. The slogans were repeated with precision. Scores of women were wailing from the windows and rooftops of their houses. Many threw petals, toffees and dry fruits at the body of Sabzar. “Sanae Maharazoo” the women wailed.
As the grave was being prepared and Sabzar’s body kept on one side, a sudden roar pierced the air. The militant, who addressed the gathering last evening was running again in the alleys to see the face of Sabzar last time. He was running towards the graveyard and people were running after him. He reached near the periphery of the graveyard and led a round of passionate sloganeering. The violence of emotions triggered a roar of synchronous bawl. Shrieks dispatched to an imaginary address. He could not reach the grave as people were running over each other to touch him. He rushed back into the alleys and evaporated temporarily.

After sometime, when the grave was ready and body of Sabzar was being lowered, Azaan rushed in again. This time, brandishing, what he called a grenade and cut his way through hundreds of people towards the grave. The slogans reverberated again. He touched face of Sabzar. He hurried back only to be pursued by scores of youngsters. “There may be some informer among them, who will get him killed,” a woman on slab of a house, overlooking graveyard, rued.
Outside graveyard at the main chowk of Ratsuna, I saw father of Burhan Wani talking to a few people. “I had come to offer funeral prayers of Sabzar,” he said. I asked about Zakir Musa’s statement, he replied. “They are all Mujahids for us.” From the loud speaker of Jama Masjid, a song paying tributes to Burhan was playing in the background. “Kashmir Laho Ka Darya, Tu Gairat Ki Tugyani…Burhan Muzaffar Wani”

Here among a group of youngsters, I spotted the man who I saw near the body of Sabzar in ground, lashing out at photojournalists and accusing journalists of being a sellout. A photographer, who also noticed this man, sat with him and enquired about the reason for his hatred against media.
“You don’t show the truth. Aap Sab Bike Hue Hain. Look at the channels. They spread lies,” he said. He studies in University and referred to lot of TV programs beamed on the news channels late evening. The photographer, who works for a foreign organization suggested him to look beyond New Delhi or Noida based TV channels and follow international media outlets. As the group grew bigger another young man chipped in. “I watch BBC International. Even they don’t report on Kashmir regularly.” I tried to suggest reading or watching stories online. The group laughed. “Internet is banned all the time. Today even phones are not working. Are you joking?” they said. I stopped talking and the discussion continued there.

I engaged another small group at a little distance, asking about the nature of discourse regarding Kashmir. “Let us be clear that martyrdom is an Islamic concept. Kashmir may be a political issue but Islam provides us the inspiration to fight against injustice and oppression,” said a student, who studies in a college in south Kashmir.
Another journalist friend, who was witnessing the funeral of a militant first time, tried to argue about the uneven figures of militants fighting huge government machinery.
“Yesterday there were only four boys in the house and hundreds of these troopers came to kill them. And still two managed to escape. They are timid. This shows we will win one day. I don’t think you have faith and belief in truth,” this group of three youngsters said.

Another young man added, that they were aware that ‘with couple of magazines one cannot fight an army.’ “But then you cannot sit silently and show abominable cowardice,” he said. I asked the youngest among them, a class 11th student, what was his aim in life? “I also want to take up arms.”

While we were moving towards our motorcycles, to travel back to Srinagar, one of the youngsters from the group--which had now grown to almost 25 people pointed at one of the young photojournalists who sports beard and has long hair.
“Why are you wasting time clicking pictures. You should be carrying a 7-kg machine by now.” This photojournalist couldn’t understand. He asked for further elaboration. “I mean to say you should be carrying an AK-47 not a camera,” he explained.

Nobody responded to this suggestion.

We quickly started our motorcycles and sped off to Srinagar.

Matrimonial Kashmir

“…First son married in Andrabi family...
Second daughter married in Suharwardi family, whose second cousins are settled in Amrika and third cousin is a well known businessman in middleeast...
Third daughter married in Peerzada family—of a particular area and
finally groom wanted for fourth daughter, preferably from Qureshi family and/or Qadri family…” or any other caste—identifying an alien foreign geographical location, preferably Central Asian—and ending at the second last alphabet of Urdu language and/or ninth alphabet of English language.

Without exaggeration, this is the script written in personal J&K bank diary of one of the many match makers in Kashmir, who find better halves for the population, where many believe that the choices have already been sanctioned somewhere in heaven. And, here on earth this script most of the time is written by the parents or family members—literate and well established—of a boy or girl in their own handwriting. Red ink marking the dangerous No-No candidate, blue and black ink pointing to—if there is nobody then this one choice—and green signaling the best profile.

One of my journalist friends who recently got married is another eyewitness to the similar and almost replica post in another diary of sacred secrets. He accessed the diary during his pre-marital match making operation, when he was spied upon in Lal Chowk by strangers, his daily routine scanned by match makers secretly like that of CCTVs installed at Regal Chowk and examined at infamous Cargo by the police officials. When personal moments like nose-picking were also recorded and later dissected as if it was a covert anti-state operation. Or for a match maker, it turns out to be the last nail in the coffin in grooms profile that ends chances of marriage. He further informed that the post he read from the diary was written by a well known professor of Kashmir University, who is widely acclaimed for his contribution in academics.

And this pattern of greed based artificial selection cocooned by fake conservativism is followed in every strata of the society, by all castes and societal structures in their own way. While so called elite caste families do it on basis of historically unverified and even unimportant heredity, many others do it with their ill begotten wealth, illegitimate political power, cross-hybridized religious literacy and influence, sectarian hatred, unpaid bank loan based multimillion businesses, changed and mutilated castes or with direct collaboration with the oppressing power structures. The match maker thus turns into a broker, who does not facilitate linking of tender chords between the two souls, but negotiates a deal between the two wily investors, who think that the synergy will be a good investment to get a better standing in the societal stock exchange. And many of us most of the time, end up as collaborators, succumbing to one pressure or the other, with some honorable exceptions as always.

Similarly, more than enquiring about the groom or bride the families enquire about uncles, aunts, daughter in laws, great grand parents, sixty-fifth cousins, former and current neighbors, family help, salary accounts, fixed deposits, shape and color of roof tops, open and closed drains outside the residence of potential bride or groom and above all the variety of useless cutlery and number of trays in which dishes are served in the house.

And somewhere at the end of the process of the match making, we find way for personal character and nature of the individual getting married, his or her moral uprightness, ethics, belief system and other qualities, that actually help him or her to nurture, what we call a successful marriage.

The marriage thus turns into a spectacle to showoff one’s social, economic and political power and this is why the actual ‘Nikkah recitation’ during many marriage ceremonies is seen as burden and hushed up as an unimportant formality, while shameful appeasement of a ‘powerful’ guests and filthy cosmetic boasting goes on for days and remains the top most priority.

While marrying someone whose, social economic and political realities are closer to oneself may be advisable for many and may work as well. But the society should refrain from exploiting religious or cultural advisories for violent selfish interests as is being done in many parts of South Asia, which will only lead us to chaos and more chaos. “Zache Lage Zaetey”, “Aes Mae Lagav Ouer Yoer”, “Aseel Zaat and Kameen Zaat” or “Shudaer and Non-Shudaer” narratives ingrained in genomes of our society have to be questioned seriously and a cleansing process needs to be started soon.

The victims of this chaotic ugly social reality are thousands of youth in the state, who couldn’t marry for years, as in one way or the other, consciously or unconsciously they have attempted to challenge this exploitative social structure which is exclusively based on personal greed and vengeance.
One of the distant acquaintances, who earns well to feed family of 20, was recently rejected by a prospective bride’s family because of his dark skin shade. “Hatav Sou Haev Yuhaey Deesi Basaan’ one of the aunts of the girl had reported back to family after pre-marital meeting in a restaurant. This has come from the family, whose members give away food in charity every Thursday in name of Prophet Muhammad (SAW) and his companions, which includes Hazrat Bilal Habshi (RA).

And most of our Friday sermonizers never seem to open eyes to these realities. They will always keep humming beautiful historical anecdotes rarely relevant to present times. Will never questions the societal conditioning and realities that forces an individual to go astray, but leave no chance to issue Fatwa and invoke fury of Almighty, once they stumble on or are informed about misdeed of any individual.
Individual efforts of many youngsters and initiatives like Humsafar Marriage Bureau acts as palliative in such a depressing scenario and gives us hope that we should never never forgo.

May Almighty help us to see things as they exist in reality!

Note: With no malice towards any caste mentioned in the article.

Rahul is just another Gandhi

Hakeem Irfan

When incompetence is in live-in relationship with corrupt power, Rahul Gandhi happens. And mistakenly many* think of this combination as problem solving catalyst, capable of building much unwanted bridges. Rahul reminds me, of all the sons of Bollywood villains from Shakti Kapoor, Aasif Sheikh, Gulshan Grover to Mohnish Behl—who after being sent to some foreign country, come back to India and spent their rest of the life, disastrously dreaming and planning to marry the lead actress in the flick and be heir to the ill begotten wealth and territories of their fathers and families.

When Rahul, a home schooled, Cambridge graduate, was at Kashmir University this week along with Business Babus of India, talking about job opportunities and trying to manufacture his Kashmiri roots, a small scale biscuit factory near Baghi Ali Mardan industrial area—few kilometers from varsity—that once produced famous brands of Kashmir’s own biscuits—Shalimar, Nishat, Coconut—available in range of Rs one to Rs five, remains defunct, its doors locked, and dust enveloping the wrappers printed years back, but never used. This once profit generating factory never attracted attention of the government, that not only snapped electricity supply to the factory years back, but also stepped back, when it needed monitory help to sustain. This small factory, reflects, condition of many other Kashmir’s indigenous industries.

Three kilometers from University, in interiors of Rainawari area, a middle aged carpet weaver had to shut down his unit, for whole day and earn nothing, as supplies of thread could not reach him due to restrictions by forces, as Rahul was addressing youngsters about job opportunities, two miles away. And we were told Rahul is in Kashmir for building bridges and opening business opportunities. And yes, The Federation Chamber of Industries Kashmir (FCIK) has already termed the visit of Indian business giants to Kashmir as ‘a futile exercise.’

Rahul, proposed as choice for post of Prime Minister of India by senior Congress leader Veerappa Moily in 2008, has three qualities to be what he is—the scion of Gandhi-Nehru family, the scion of Gandhi-Nehru family and he is fair. To be brother-in-law of India’s son-in-law Robert Vadra (as per India against Corruption) is always icing on the cake.

The three qualities of Rahul were vindicated by the election results of India’s biggest state Uttar Pradesh, where he was star campaigner for India’s oldest national party. People of the state, a reporter from national television of India informed, jostled to touch his hand and watch his smiling face—as if he was an angel from the powerful political family of India—for hours, but in the end voted for some other party. Then it leaves us wondering how he is the shining young political leader of India, who has not only squandered political lessons of Digvijay Singh, but has also forgotten management consultancy classes he attended in college and practiced later for some years. His mismanagement is evident in IYC and NSUI, where mostly youngsters with political affiliations are promoted to senior party positions.
Bhata-Parsul in UP was another disastrous example, where during farmer’s agitation, where in an act to gain sympathy of farmers, he jumped to conclusions that women were gang raped and people were burnt alive, without even checking the facts on ground in 2011. And other than this he has done nothing worth mentioning.

In Kashmir, Rahul tried to express his three qualities, as mentioned above, and stress on these to its fullest. ‘I am a Kashmiri’ he announced, like his great grandfather, Pandit Nehru informed us decades back. But, he could not substantiate it and his great grandson, is very unlikely to change the history.
“The aim of the interactive session is to build trust and a long-term relationship… We want to feel the pain that people of Kashmir have gone through...We have to develop a lifelong relationship with Kashmir based on trust,” Rahul told students, bussed to the convocation centre of KU. And later he added, “We need to develop a long lasting relationship of stability and trusts. Once it is done then you will find that investments are coming.”

The barrage of business tycoons, who were herded to the Valley, acknowledged what Rahul said, probably as per the script handed over to them in Delhi.
Rahul deliberately chose to forget around 0.7 million troops present in Jammu and Kashmir and infinite felonious and horrendous consequence of their presence and bigger demand for Right to Self Determination, promised by his great grandfather Pandit Nehru.

So, is stability and trust possible? I think Rahul has to ask people in Delhi to do some homework and ask his mom, that she should not expose him to embarrassing situations, where he has to flee from back door of convocation centre—as per local newspaper reports—to avoid gaze of scores of students outside convocation centre voicing demand of every individual of Jammu and Kashmir. But then I have to correct myself, oppressors are never embarrassed: shamelessness was their eternal beloved.
Besides, the business tycoons, Rahul said have come to do business. “I will be little blunt…Business people are after business…They will go to places where they get business. And wherever they go for it they will need two things--stability and trust.”

Can we infer from this that they have already signed some deal in Kashmir, which we will come to know years later. Or has government given some land or forest or water-body on lease for another 100 years to these people, who only come to places, where they can feed their interests.

And coming to questions of thousands of students and youngsters of Jammu and Kashmir, they wanted to pose to Rahul, but were silenced by their teachers*. I think our questions were always legitimate and right, but we try to ask it to wrong person every time. Rahul is part of the machinery that has choked rights and destinies of people, how can he even deserve or be eligible to listen to questions of women and men who are not only resisting but surviving the toughest battles on roads, borders and now on social networking sites as well.


Tail Piece:
Garmi-E-Ghuftar-E-Aza’ay Majaalis, Al-Aman !
Ye Bhi Ek Sarmaya Daron Ki Hai Jang-E-Zargari

“That rhetoric of the Senator, flowing in fiery stream— God save the mark!
The brokers’ war of gold is its true theme”

The beautiful and bald University

http://www.kashmirdispatch.com/others/17085346-the-beautiful-and-bald-university-kashmir.htm

“...Mathematicians won the wars, mathematicians broke the Japanese codes...mathematicians like you stated that the goal of Soviets is global communism...In Medicine or Economics: In Technology or space, battle lines are being drawn ...To triumph we need results...Applicable results, Now who among you would be the next Morse, the next Einstein? Who among you would be the vanguard of democracy, freedom and discovery...Today we bequeath America’s future into your able hands... Welcome to Princeton gentlemen...!”

These beautiful inspirational lines are from the first scene of a movie ‘Beautiful Mind’ based on life of two-time Nobel laureate-mathematician-John Nash. The scene is set in September 1947, Princeton University inaugural class, where a Professor welcomes the young scholars and one among them sitting in the rows is John Nash. When Professor bequeaths the future of America to the new comers in the University, seriousness and pain of the respectable and most sought after responsibility reflects on their faces. And, they move on to become one of the finest classes of mathematicians and economists of the 20th century. The future of America was bequeathed in safe hands!

In 2010, a journalist friend from France wanted to discuss future of Kashmir with teachers, scholars and students at Kashmir University. The officials (academicians) did not allow that. Perhaps, they thought we do not have John Nash’s in our classes or we do not have teachers who have the eligibility and academic courage to bequeath the future of Kashmir to any of the scholars and students. There may be plenty of them available but none has been nourished to express. The highest seat of learning in Kashmir has risen so high that academics itself remains lagging behind by ages. The students, research and scholars have just become one of the priorities of varsity managers. The priority that figures somewhere on the last pages of the priority list (that are mostly not read.) The contractors, landscape, motor vehicles, petrol allocation, tender notices, trimming chinar trees, decorating guest houses and most importantly the impotent conferences and functions are the front-runners in the list and this how a University is redefined in Kashmir. The new Vice Chancellor- a brilliant academicians as I hear in Delhi-may need to give an ear to all this. This becomes more important when VC has asked all the managers except few to surrender the vehicles and NAAC visit scheduled later this month. The beautiful campus is academically bald.

The culture of maiming the dissent and passing orders rather than facilitating exchange of ideas is how our University is still working. The students and researchers are considered as vegetables that have no choice but to be chopped by the people who plan and executes the rules of the varsity. The moment a researcher, talks sense or raise voice against the system, the proctor office jumps in, to show him the door or tag him or her with a red sign. However, some of the sleazy managers inside who actually should be red marked for their character are not disturbed and they continue to enjoy the prestigious positions. In 2008 researchers in one of the department complained that they were being molested by one of the much celebrated faculty of the varsity. Even though the KU officials started the enquiry after students protested. The enquiry report was never made public and is only known to those who started the enquiry. In 2011, many other scholars are facing the same problem. But, nobody comes out in public fearing that no action would be taken. All this is based on unreported facts that rarely come out from this concrete jungle. If any conscious insider attempts to raise voice, he or she is sent on forced leave.

The encouragement of mediocrity in any society leads to its decay and death. This plague has destroyed civilizations. At KU, the mediocrity is not only encouraged but respected as well. There are honourable exceptions everywhere, but polluted powerful majority overshadows the powerless minority. The orchestrated commemoration of each other’s works at varsity functions is what they define as intellectual debate and criticism. The protocol at conference is more important than the theme of the conference itself. Students, who should have been actually preparing papers to read in the conferences, are seen roaming around as event managers and more precisely preparing the refreshment for the guests (who are mostly the state administration people.)

Recently KU was helping few students to organize the music show (to help an orphanage). No issues with the concept per se but are we done with all our curricular and academic pursuits in the varsity. Besides, such activities happen with all inclusiveness. The University should better think of a fest that includes fund raising creative projects. It should attract intellectual and academic endeavours rather than putting all energy into singing and dancing that -to the highest level-would end up in some nonsense reality TV show. The students who were planning the music show should better be encouraged to manage a business extravaganzas and invite entrepreneurs for sharing and learning experience, so that they themselves-after completion of the degree-would not be just rushing to banks for the jobs. They should be encouraged and taught to prepare papers for Harvard Business Review, Mckinsy and other international journals. The students should better be aware of the latest case studies of Coke, Nokia, BskyB and Dowjones rather than wasting time in managing the sterile programs.

For charity, we are amongst highest charity paying regions, besides there are thousands working on this front. If we work hard and excel in our specialized fields, that would be the best charity for our nation. If a KU student manages to lead a multinational company, gets admission in NASA, UN, OIC, and MIT, or become a multi millionaire businessperson, he or she can plan placements of hundreds of orphans and help thousands. That would be the best charity. Many people are doing that but it happens only when they opt for better options than Kashmir University. The fascist liberal thought processes should not sway the productive minds from delivering their best in the right direction.

The politics in different departments at KU is much preferred than the political science subject itself. At the time when the varsity should provide voice to people who are not educated it remains in cocoon as slave that has been cultivated as a shadow of the cruel master. The varsity has failed to connect itself to people of Kashmir. The higher education is a transformative process. Our present policies and decisions at the varsity are undermining our future capacity to be a globally competitive knowledge powerhouse. The research policy of a University as is believed by the experst is related to the economic growth of the state. At Kashmir University, it has never dawned on us.

The continued state of leprosy of the KU is putting a question mark on the academic and intellectual future of Kashmir. “By concentrating on ‘how’ a goal is to be achieved, we often overlook, ‘why’ the goal is sought in the first place, and whether it ‘ought’ to be pursued at all,” said a sociologist from US while talking about psychology of goal setting and competition. The University it seems has set all the non-transformative TRP earning and money generating cosmetic goals where students and research become the first causality of the process.