Kashmir - the Wounded Beauty



I grew up listening, reading and watching in movies about the wounded land of Kashmir. Recently, on my very first tour, I got to experience the tension. From what I gathered from the locals, the issue I witnessed wasn't directly caused by terrorism, but was a byproduct of it, much like the side-effect of a life-saving medicine. It was a clash between the locals and the soldiers placed there to protect us against terrorism.

It started like this - a few days before I arrived in Srinagar, the reason that has been all but forgotten now started a riot. A young Muslim man got killed in the firing opened by CRPF Jawans. The angry crowd returning from his funeral attacked the CRPF posts and a couple more died. And it set off the chain reaction that was about to blow out of proportion.

I was given to understand that the reason behind this animosity between the guardians and the guarded had been building up for a decade. When a locality of simple residents who feed on common trades gets the look of an army camp, it’s hard not to expect sparks between the residents and the soldiers. I was astounded witnessing the massive military and CRPF presence in the region along with the police. You can’t drive on any street in Srinagar for three minutes without passing fully armed military soldiers staring at you with piercing eyes. You have to pass one or two check posts before reaching every tourist attraction. You are allowed to go only after you have been thoroughly frisked and your car checked for weapons. Though the soldiers address you as 'sir', there is nothing friendly in the way they ask you questions or command you to step outside your vehicle.

On one occasion, when I was about to enter the famous mosque of Hazratbal in Srinagar, a soldier suspected that I might be carrying an explosive hidden in my camera lens. He spoke aloud his suspicion and everyone else around started looking at me with interest. I uncovered the lens and made him see though it, but that wasn’t enough for him. He took the lens and shook it like a soda bottle, without any concern that he might damage it. When I urgently stopped him from doing it, his suspicion only grew stronger. He thought I was afraid that the explosive might blow up. So, he made me step aside from the queue and frisked me in detail, then asked me to hand an ID. I handed him three IDs instead of one, my PAN card, my election card, and my driving license, hoping to make him look like an idiot suspecting a legitimate civilian. But he made me look like an idiot instead by examining all three IDs for five minutes looking for a sign of forgery. After handing me back my IDs he asked me a few general knowledge questions about my home town and state. Finally, I had to fit the lens on the camera and click a few pictures for him to make him believe it wasn’t a bomb.

This was just my first day in Srinagar and I had been put through a rather disrespectful test in my own country. While I understand the need for vigilance, I can only imagine what the locals must go thought every day in their own town.


The day I entered Srinagar, a state-wide strike had been called in protest against the killings at the hand of CRPF. I was told by several locals that tourists are never a casualty of such fights. When I arrived at Dal Gate, around 8.00 p.m., I saw that it must have been true. Even though the old parts of the town were supposedly tense and closed, tourists were having a good time at Dal Lake. Most of the tourist oriented facilities, such as hotels and the shikaras were operational. Over the next two days I visited different parts of this beautiful town and forgot that there had been a trouble. I must say I am lucky that I got to see the serene side of Srinagar, because out of the blue on a Thursday I received news that there was going to be a strike the next day. And the word strike here is synonymous with the word curfew, given the similar situations on road.

The locals had not forgotten about the recent killings. It was expected that after the gatherings at mosques on Friday, when the numbers are very high, the local leaders would deliver provocative speeches to the mob and things will get bad. I was forced to drop my plan to photograph the Mughal Gardens the next day and leave town early in the morning. Me and my driver left at six in morning, or rather ran from the fear that our car might get pelted if we got out later. We went to Gulmarg. On the same evening at Gulmarg I heard about several incidents of violence in and around Srinagar, in one of which a tourist vehicle had been mobbed, forcefully vacated and burnt. So much for not troubling the tourists!

The very next evening, I left for Pahelgam, again dropping the newly formed plan of visiting Srinagar and covering the remaining gardens. The road to Pahelgam passed from Srinagar, but we took the bypass road and circumvented the town. Things appeared to be normal from where we passed. But as we left Srinagar and moved further on our way, I witnessed a considerable rise in the military movement on the road. I could not help but feel that a war was expected. Green military trucks were passing either way. On one occasion, we passed a convoy of eighteen military trucks. The fleet was headed by a battle truck that reminded me of tanks. It was completely enclosed with iron grills covering the windshield. A soldier standing on its top held a long machine-gun installed on a tripod. Green patrolling vans full of armed soldiers passed us every now and then like black and yellow taxis do back home in Maharashtra on the road to Shirdi. Every half a kilometer, a pair of soldiers stood guard on either side of the road, coveting the entire 80 kilometer long highway. I later learned that from this same route the famous Amarnath Yatra was to start in less than a week.

Then, we came to pass through Anantnag. My driver, Balbir Singh, an aged Sardarji with a lot of tales, told me a few things about this town. It’s notoriously called as Mini Pakistan or Islamabad by the rest of Kashmir due to its Pakistan-supporting population. According to him, the people here want to be a part of Pakistan. An ex-governor, Jagmohan, had once publicly said that he would open the border and those from Anantnag who wish to go to Pakistan may walk away. It was here that I felt for the first time how it would be like to be in Pakistan as the place strongly reminded me of the Pakistan I had seen in movies. A rapidly growing town, even the bypass road here appeared to be passing from the heart of the town. There are long rows of two-storied buildings on its either side. All the shops were shuttered and armed soldiers were stationed every ten meters or so. Men dressed in Shervanis were out on the road in scanty numbers. When I passed from here, I did not know that this town will soon steal the limelight from Srinagar.


We soon reached Pahelgam. Just like Gulmarg, the town was peaceful, as the major population here survives on tourism and wants nothing but peace. Every citizen I met here was warm and friendly, and so far away from a thought of violence that it made me wonder how the people of Anantnag only fifty kilometers away could be so different. A reason that I learnt later was the flow of disruption-fund from Pakistan. The major population of Kashmir has nothing to do with violence, but some people, paid by Pakistan, stir them like puppets and turn them into the rioters who deform the face of the state. And what is the better time to do that than in the wake of Amarnath Yatra?


During the first four days in Pahelgam that I spent taking pictures for my website, I was totally disconnected from the world outside and paid no attention to the local news. Then, I heard of the rising tension again. Suddenly, the streets in the main market were deserted and the shops closed. It was a picture starkly different from what I had seen of this lovely town so far. The shopkeepers were making phone calls trying to find out if it was okay to be back in business again. And a couple hours later, everything was back to normal in Pahelgam. I was all set to leave in the evening. I packed my luggage and called the room service to check out. But the boy came to me with a request not to even consider leaving. There had been an outburst of violence everywhere in Kashmir. When I went down into the market area, my driver asked around for opinions from other drivers who had just arrived in the town. We were told that a police van had been upturned and burned somewhere on the road that we would take and four cops had been beaten to death. Later it turned out they had only been injured and the van had only been upturned. But, as confirmed by media, many more people had died elsewhere in police firing, including a nine year old boy the previous day. And Anantnag, an unavoidable station in our journey, was one of the high violence areas. I had no option but to return back to the hotel and plan to leave early in the morning, when the angry people would be sound asleep in their homes.

As planned, we left at 4.15 in the morning. But we were far from relaxed. The manager of the hotel insisted that we did not move even a kilometer away from Pahelgam, but I had had enough of packing and unpacking. As we drove down the hill and came on the highway, we spotted other vehicles doing exactly what we were up to. One man traveling with his family in a car, possibly a local, stopped us and asked us whether we considered it safe to pass through Anantnag. We were not sure, but we said we are going to find out anyway.

As we finally came to Anantnag, I saw what all the fuss was about. The road had been blocked by large rocks, but someone, possibly the military jawans, had moved enough rocks aside so at least one small vehicle could pass. Further, we saw stones lying everywhere on the road among pieces of broken windshields. Near the central part of the bypass road, a shop had been burnt down. The cinders were still hot. The signs of other burnings were spread throughout the town. What’s more, the stone pelters were beginning to gather on the street. They were waiting in the shadows, perhaps, for more to join them so they would form a mob threatening enough to attack. The vehicles in rush to clear the disturbed region were dashing so fast that incoming vehicles posed more danger to life than the violent people. All this while, Balbirji had been chanting Gurubani with his foot pressed on the accelerator.


When we arrived in Srinagar, I checked into the same hotel where I stayed six days ago. I heard here that three more young men had been killed in firing the other day at Anantnag, all of them, according to Balbirji were Pakistani puppets. When I came down on the street a few hours later, I found it empty, apart from the Shikara-walas hoping to find some customers. Their eyes lit up as they saw me. They rushed to me asking if I wanted a ride. Even the Dal Lake looked gloomy with its surface unruffled. All I found open that day was a net café with half closed shutter in the interiors behind my hotel. The hotel, that I had grown used to being crowded, had been deserted by the evening. The only movement in the large balcony facing Dal Lake, which would normally be full of people sitting in chairs enjoying tea and conversations, was of two rose plants waving in the wind.

They say it’s going to take at least another week for things to get back to normal. But I won’t be there to find out. In next couple of hours I will be out of this town, if the streets remain silent as they are at the moment. But when I come here next time, I pray that this undoubtedly one of the best regions in my country will be as serene and welcoming as the snow capped mountains, the lovely rows of pine trees, the lush green lawns and the colorful skies that perennially inhabit here.


Comments

Priyanka said…
Hey Sarang,

Reading this made me realise how bad the situation is and how you must've felt during the whole trip. Whatever we see and hear on the news channels doesn't even scrape the top of the plight of the locals there. They are being forced to live like prisoners in their own houses..and all the bureaucracy does is to lay blame on each other...
Unknown said…
Sarang,
Very beautifully written. I couldn't not read it in one go. I loved how you made it sound real. After a hiatus as long as yours, this certainly is a very justified piece.

As always, I'm keenly awaiting more write-ups.
Sameer said…
Hi Sarang,
Nice article, though it is sad to see you never mentioned the Holocaust of Kashmiri Pandits as the real reason for this unrest. Pandits were massacred just because of their faith and everyone blatantly listened to the death warranted shouted out of loud speakers from various mosques. It seems like we like to forget what has happened in the 1980's. Till the Kashmiri Pandits are given their right place in Kashmir it will, unfortunately, remain under the dark shadow of violence.
Sarang Mahajan said…
Priyanka: You are right. When watched the coverage on the news channels, I was surprised how short they were in reporting the actual situation. A lot of stuff is, I think, left unmentioned on purpose. Thanks for reading, by the way! :)
Sarang Mahajan said…
Dear Sprinkles: Thanks for dropping by. I will try and keep this alive. :)
Sarang Mahajan said…
Sameer: Thank you for reading the article. And I am sorry that you do not find the appropriate references of the past. I admit that I have done no research whatsoever before writing this article and have only tried to convey my experience. My major purpose of traveling is photography, and that exhausts me so badly that I had to push myself to finish even this little piece. But I will try and study the real reasons. Also, you can shed light and point me in the right direction. Thank you for the comment. :)
Unknown said…
Hi Sarang!!!
Its really amazing information and experience ....
Kashmir
How can they face the situations and leave.... and terrorism nd all.
Even Afghanistan also...
Kashmir is not safe na???.
U have any photos or videos??
Santonu said…
Hi Sarang,
Excellent article and without opinions. You could bring out how the valley lives which our popular media misses many ocassions. I would really loved to see your photos, any chance they will be made public? wonderful piece....have a good time in Kargil.
Sarang Mahajan said…
Suprita: Thank you for dropping by. :)

Fortunately, things in Kashmir are not as bad as Afganisthan. It's just that it's a shame that the most beautiful region in our country is not the safest.
Sarang Mahajan said…
Santonu: Great to hear from you buddy. Thank you for reading the article. I know it's long(ish)! :D

Yeah, I will soon put pictures on Facebook. Have taken a lot of those. But traveling leaves me with no time to selectthe good ones and then hunt for net cafes to put them. Will pass you the link once I put them on.

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