In a reckless moment of vainglory, I said I wanted an article about the Modi gang’s attempt to suspend me from Twitter placed on my tombstone. Now a dear Kashmiri friend who was under the siege told me he used to tell his mom I would be fighting for Kashmir & when he came out of the country was delighted to see I was. Trash that damn suspension article. Being trusted as a steadfast ally in the struggle against oppression is truly an honor. That goes for all of us who are & there are legions of us. Would it be vainglory to want my friend’s expression of trust placed on my tombstone?

(PS: not that I’m planning my funeral any time soon since Kashmiri prayers will keep me going until there is a free Kashmir.)

Voice Of The Voiceless

August 5, the day we witnessed the sunset
52 Days past and we have no sunrise yet

Seems Decades the school kids last met
Restricted to our rooms like caged in a net

Dying of the appetite with nothing in the pocket
Suffering even those with their filled wallet

Eyes with the dreams now showered the pellet
Oozing is the blood from their wounds
Of bullet

Tainted with the blood streets look red carpet
Asking for my birth right keeps me on target

Closed eyes and loud music in the headset.
Humanity asleep deep under the
blanket

Aware of the actions and vicious mindset
Destined to perish enemy shouldn’t forget

Hopeful of the light and nights outset
Will again be the spring and none upset

–by Kashmiri Lone Rouf


This is a powerful protest from Sharika Amin via Hameem Fayaz about the Indian occupation in his Kashmiri hometown.

Dated 16 September 2019, DialgamI was on the first floor of our house, that faces the main road. Hearing commotion outside, I rushed to the window and was encountered by glass shards all over my face, that missed my eyes by a whisker but ended up hurting my feet, that left a big stain of blood on the carpet. There was mayhem outside with the army ruthlessly breaking windows of our entire neighborhood, and scores of vehicles arriving near our door. And inside, my cousins ran up to alert everyone shouting" army aai, army aai". With men frantically rushing to secure the door, women huddling kids together and rushing to the safer spots at home. The entire neighborhood blanketed in an omnious silence, the only sounds being whispers of prayers to Allah, ,your own heartbeat which you think will stop at any moment and the sound of oppression that grew louder with each stone that was hurled and each abuse that they promised to carry out… So the next time you hear everything is normal in kashmir ( or dare tell me) Remember that, It is not normal to chase young children with guns. It is not normal to barge in my home. It is not normal to be scared being in your own home.It is not normal for my car and window panes to be broken. It is not normal for my heart to race as soon as I watch a military vehicle.It is not normal to huddle in fear as soon as you hear sirens. It is not normal for anyone to own our roads, our homes. It is not normal for anyone to control our movement, our speech, our dissent.And if it is normal, I wish you the same normal. And if it is not, I wish you the courage and conscience to say so.

Posted by Sharika Amin on Tuesday, 24 September 2019

Dated 16 September 2019, Dialgam

I was on the first floor of our house, that faces the main road. Hearing commotion outside, I rushed to the window and was encountered by glass shards all over my face, that missed my eyes by a whisker but ended up hurting my feet, that left a big stain of blood on the carpet. There was mayhem outside with the army ruthlessly breaking windows of our entire neighborhood, and scores of vehicles arriving near our door. And inside, my cousins ran up to alert everyone shouting” army aai, army aai”. With men frantically rushing to secure the door, women huddling kids together and rushing to the safer spots at home. The entire neighborhood blanketed in an omnious silence, the only sounds being whispers of prayers to Allah, ,your own heartbeat which you think will stop at any moment and the sound of oppression that grew louder with each stone that was hurled and each abuse that they promised to carry out…
So the next time you hear everything is normal in kashmir ( or dare tell me)
Remember that,
It is not normal to chase young children with guns.
It is not normal to barge in my home.
It is not normal to be scared being in your own home.
It is not normal for my car and window panes to be broken.
It is not normal for my heart to race as soon as I watch a military vehicle.
It is not normal to huddle in fear as soon as you hear sirens.
It is not normal for anyone to own our roads, our homes.
It is not normal for anyone to control our movement, our speech, our dissent.
And if it is normal, I wish you the same normal.
And if it is not, I wish you the courage and conscience to say so.

The British MP Paul Scully who long ago formed an alliance with Hindutvavadis to promote the lies & propaganda about a Kashmiri Pandit (Hindu) genocide in Kashmir is no relation to me. He is from an aberrant branch of the Scully clan who morphed into sniveling servants of the moochocracy. My part of the clan may not be made up of saints or heroes but we don’t have many who’ve stooped this low.

“Reports are coming that 19 people have died of 7.1 magnitude earthquake in Pakistan administrated Kashmir and here we have no news about our families in Indian administered Kashmir due to communication blockade from past 53 days. Well this helplessness is after integration of Kashmir with union of India.”

–Aabid Ibn Bashir Dhar

This is a long report by a group of five Indian women about their fact-finding tour of Kashmir. It gives one of the most disturbing accounts of what Kashmiris are enduring under this brutal siege & is really very important to read.

Women’s Voice: Fact Finding Report on Kashmir
September 17th – 21st 2019

[Kindly note. To protect the identity of the people we met, all names in the Report have been changed. We have not named the villages we visited for the very same reason]

These are lines by Comrade Abdul Sattar Ranjoor. We held these as a beacon during our four-day sojourn in a locked and shuttered land called Kashmir.

Spring buds will flower
Nightingales’ pain will abate
Lovers wounds will start healing
Sickness will leave the ailing
Heart’s longing of Ranjoor will be fulfilled
When the poorest will rule
Wearing the crown of glory

(Ranjoor was killed in 1990)

A team of 5 women visited Kashmir from September 17th-21st 2019. We wanted to see with our own eyes how this 43 day lockdown had affected the people, particularly women and children.

The team consisted of Annie Raja, Kawaljit Kaur, Pankhuri Zaheer from National Federation Indian Women, Poonam Kaushik from Pragatisheel Mahila Sangathan and Syeda Hameed from Muslim Women’s Forum.

Besides spending time in Srinagar, we visited several villages in the districts of Shopian, Pulwama and Bandipora. We went to hospitals, schools, homes, market places, spoke to people in the rural as well as urban areas, to men, women, youth and children. This Report is our chashmdeed gawahi (eye witness account) of ordinary people who have lived for 43 days under an iron siege.

Shops closed, hotels closed, schools, colleges, institutes and universities closed, streets deserted was the first visual impact as we drove out from the airport. To us it seemed a punitive mahaul that blocked breathing freely.

The picture of Kashmir that rises before our eyes is not the populist image; shikara, houseboat, lotus, Dal Lake. It is that of women, a Zubeida, a Shamima, a Khurshida standing at the door of their homes, waiting. Waiting and waiting for their 14, 15, 17, 19 year old sons. Their last glimpse is embedded in each heart, they dare not give up hope but they know it will be a long wait before they see their tortured bodies or their corpses… if they do. ‘We have been caged’ these words we heard everywhere. Doctors, teachers, students, workers asked us, “What would you do in Delhi if internet services were cut off for 5 minutes?” We had no answer.

Across all villages of the four districts, peoples’ experiences were the same. They all spoke of lights, which had to be turned off around 8PM after Maghreb prayers. In Bandipora, we saw a young girl who made the mistake of keeping a lamp lit to read for her exam on the chance that her school may open soon. Army men angered by this breach of ‘curfew’, jumped the wall to barge in. Father and son, the only males in the house were taken away for questioning. ‘What questions?’, no one dared ask. The two have been detained since then. ‘We insist that men should go indoors after 6 PM. Man or boy seen after dusk is a huge risk. If absolutely necessary, we women go outside’. These words were spoken by Zarina from a village near Bandipora district headquarters. ‘In a reflex action, my four year old places a finger on her lips when she hears a dog bark after dusk. Barking dogs mean an imminent visit by army. I can’t switch on the phone for light so I can take my little girl to the toilet. Light shows from far and if that happens our men pay with their lives’.

The living are inadvertently tortured by the dead. ‘People die without warning or mourning. How will I inform my sisters about their mother’s death?’ Ghulam Ahmed’s voice was choked. ‘They are in Traal, in Pattan. I had to perform her soyem without her children’. The story was the same wherever we went. People had no means of reaching out to loved ones. 43 days were like the silence of death.

Public transportation was zero. People who had private cars took them out only for essential chores. Women stood on roadsides, flagging cars and bikes for rides. People stopped and helped out; helplessness of both sides was their unspoken bond. ‘I was on my bike going towards Awantipora. A woman flagged me. My bike lurched on a speed breaker. She was thrown off. I took her to the nearby hospital. She went in a coma. I am a poor man how could I pay for her treatment? How and who could I inform?’ These daily events were recounted wherever we went. At a Lalla Ded Women’s Hospital in Srinagar several young women doctors expressed their absolute frustration at the hurdles that had been placed in their way since the abrogation of Article 370. ‘There are cases where women cannot come in time for deliveries. There are very few ambulances, the few that are running are stopped at pickets on the way. The result? There are several cases of overdue deliveries that produce babies with birth deformities. It is a life long affliction, living death for parents”. Conversely, we were told that several women are delivering babies prematurely due to the stress and khauf (fear) in the present condition. “It feels like the government is strangling us and then sadistically asking us to speak at the same time,’ a young woman doctor said as she clutched her throat to show how she felt.

A senior doctor from Bandipora Hospital told us that people come from Kulgam, Kupwara, and other districts. Mental disorders, heart attacks, today there are more cases than he could ever recall. For emergencies junior doctors desperately look for seniors; there is no way of reaching them on phone. If they are out of the premises, they run on the streets shouting, asking, searching in sheer desperation. One orthopaedic doctor from SKIMS was stopped at the army imposed blockade while he was going for duty. He was held for 7 days. Safia in Shopian had cancer surgery. ‘I desperately need a check up in case it has recurred. Baji, I can’t reach my doctor. The only way is to go to the city, but how do I get there? And if I do, will he be there?’ Ayushman Bharat, an internet based scheme, cannot be availed by doctors and patients.

Women in villages stood before us with vacant eyes. ‘How do we know where they are? Our boys who were taken away, snatched away from our homes. Our men go to the police station, they are asked to go to the headquarters. They beg rides from travellers and some manage to get there. On the board are names of ‘stone pelters’ who have been lodged in different jails, Agra, Jodhpur, Ambedkar, Jhajjar.’ A man standing by adds, ‘Baji we are crushed. Only a few of us who can beg and borrow, go hundreds of miles only to be pushed around by hostile jail guards in completely unfamiliar cities.’

At Gurdwaras we met women who said they have always felt secure in Kashmir. ‘Molestation of women in rest of India about which we read is unheard of in Kashmir’. Young women complained they were harassed by army, including removal of their niqab

‘Army pounces on young boys; it seems they hate their very sight. When fathers go to rescue their children they are made to deposit money, anywhere between 20000 to 60000’. So palpable is their hatred for Kashmiri youth that when there is the dreaded knock on the door of a home, an old man is sent to open it. ‘We hope and pray they will spare a buzurg. But their slaps land on all faces, regardless whether they are old or young, or even the very young. In any case, Baji, we keep our doors lightly latched so they open easily with one kick’. The irony of these simply spoken words!

Boys as young as 14 or 15 are taken away, tortured, some for as long as 45 days. Their papers are taken away, families not informed. Old FIR’s are not closed. Phones are snatched; collect it from the army camp they are told. No one in his senses ever went back, even for a slightly expensive phone. A woman recounted how they came for her 22 year old son. But since his hand was in plaster they took away her 14 year old instead. In another village we heard that two men were brutally beaten. No reason. One returned, after 20 days, broken in body and spirit. The other is still in custody. One estimate given to us was 13000 boys lifted during this lockdown. They don’t even spare our rations. During random checking of houses which occurs at all odd hours of the night, the army persons come in and throw out the family. A young man working as SPO told us. ‘We keep a sizeable amount of rice, pulses, edible oil in reserve. Kerosene is mixed in the ration bins, sometimes that, sometimes koyla’.

Tehmina from Anantnag recently urged her husband, ‘Let us have another child. If our Faiz gets killed at least we will have one more to call our own. Abdul Haleem was silent. He could see the dead body of his little boy lying on his hands even as she spoke these words. ‘Yeh sun kar, meri ruh kaanp gayi,” he tells us.

A thirty year old lawyer from Karna was found dead in his rented accommodation. He was intensely depressed. Condolence notice was issued by Secy Bar Association. Immediately after that he was taken into custody. Why? We spoke to a JK policeman. All of them have been divested of their guns and handed dandas. ‘How do you feel, losing your guns?’ ‘Both good and bad’ came the reply. ‘Why?’ Good because we were always afraid of them being snatched away. Bad because we have no means now to defend ourselves in a shootout. One woman security guard said ‘Indian govt wants to make this a Palestine. This will be fought by the us, Kashmiris’. One young professional told us, ‘We want freedom. We don’t want India, we don’t want Pakistan. We will pay any price for this. Ye Kashmiri khoon hai. Koi bhi qurbani denge’.

Everywhere we went there were two inexorable sentiments. First, desire for Azadi; they want nothing of either India or Pakistan. The humiliation and torture they have suffered for 70 years has reached a point of no return. Abrogation of 370 some say has snapped the last tie they had with India. Even those people who always stood with the Indian State have been rejected by the Govt. ‘So, what is the worth in their eyes, of us, ordinary Kashmiris?’ Since all their leaders have been placed under PSA or under house arrest, the common people have become their own leaders. Their suffering is untold, so is their patience. The second, was the mothers anguished cries (who had seen many children’s corpses with wounds from torture) asking for immediate stop to this brutalisation of innocents. Their children’s lives should not be snuffed out by gun and jackboots.

As we report our experiences and observations of our stay in Kashmir, we end with two conclusions. That the Kashmiri people have in the last 50 days shown an amazing amount of resilience in the face of brutality and blackout by the Indian government and the army. The incidents that were recounted to us sent shivers down our spines and this report only summarises some of them. We salute the courage and resoluteness of the Kashmiri people. Secondly, we reiterate that nothing about the situation is normal. All those claiming that the situation is slowly returning to normalcy are making false claims based on distorted facts.

Poets speak for humankind. We began our report with lines from the Kashmiri poet Ranjoor, we end with lines from Hindi poet Dushyant. Both indicate the way forward for Kashmir:

Ho gayi hai peerh parbat si pighalni chahiye
Iss Himalaya se koi Ganga nikalni chahiye

We Demand:

1. FOR NORMALCY Withdraw the Army and Paramilitary forces with immediate effect
2. FOR CONFIDENCE BUILDING Immediately Cancel all cases/ FIRs and Release all those, especially the youth who are under custody and in jail since the Abrogation of Article 370
3. FOR ENSURING JUSTICE Conduct inquiry on the widespread violence and tortures unleashed by the Army and other security personnel.
4. COMPENSATION to all those families whose loved ones lost lives because of non availability of transportation and absence of communication.

In Addition:

• Immediately restore all communication lines in Kashmir including internet and mobile networks.
• Restore Article 370 and 35 A.
• All future decisions about the political future of Jammu and Kashmir must be taken through a process of dialogue with the people of Jammu and Kashmir.
• All army personnel must be removed from the civilian areas of Jammu and Kashmir.
• An time bound inquiry committee must be constituted to look into the excesses committed by the army.

Nothing speaks more powerfully against India’s occupation of Kashmir that the Indian Army’s use of pellet guns against unarmed protesters. Pellet munitions have blinded, disabled, killed, & demoralized thousands of Kashmiris, including small children & the elderly. In India, pellet guns are illegal except for hunting, pest control, recreational shooting, & competitive sports. In Kashmir, India uses them against human beings.
Demand India immediately cease the use of pellet munitions in Kashmir.

https://inthefray.org/2019/09/dead-eyes-pellet-blindings-kashmir/?

The remarkable women freedom fighters of Kashmir who combine grief with furious resistance & defense.

How Kashmiri Women Are Protesting

By Harshita Rathore / StoriesAsiaScenes of Kashmiri boys and men shouting slogans of azadi (freedom), at times also pelting stones at Indian security personnel, often feature in Indian and foreign media. But I wanted to find out how girls and women are responding now that Kashmir has been under security and communication lockdown since August 5, when the Indian government unilaterally ended the disputed region’s autonomy.As part of a StoriesAsia team, I travelled to Srinagar’s Soura area – known for a revered Muslim shrine and also for being the epicentre of protests – on August 30, which incidentally turned out to be the most violent day for local residents since New Delhi revoked Article 370 of the Constitution.I started rolling my camera during the Friday prayers at the mosque, which were followed by a peaceful protest. The raising of slogans soon turned into a violent clash after Indian security personnel arrived at the barricades installed by residents of Soura and started firing.I sought to capture the agony, the anger and the pain that girls and women went through. I was especially astonished to witness their efforts to “help" those facing armed personnel, as well as their loud prayers to God for their protection. They moaned over victims of pellet guns, chilli grenades and tear gas, a scene that remains unforgettable for me.___________________

Posted by StoriesAsia on Tuesday, 24 September 2019

“A brigadier says, The boys of Kashmir break so quickly,
we make their bodies sing, on the rack, till no song is left to sing.”

~ Aga Shahid Ali

(Photo by Shahid Tantray)