#15: My Body Bleeds Like My Nation Does!

My Body Bleeds Like My Nation Does!!

 By: Syed Umar Shams Shah

 

26^th of April, 2013 was a hectic day, as usual for me, having attended excruciating class lectures all day in the college and having to stay behind even after evening hours in the college for the special assignments/project work was no breather either. However, what was unusual this day was the call from Dad that I missed to receive (I study in a college, thousands of miles away from my permanent residence – Kashmir). I would always call first-home (Kashmir) to speak to mom and dad, only after 8 pm, that’s when I would reach the second-home (my apartment flat in Bangalore – the city that I study in). It was 7 in the evening when I looked into my cell phone, I was surprised to find that I missed a call from Dad. It was a little worrying, but I hoped for good. I instantly stepped out of the college and called him back. After the Salam, I immediately asked dad, “Khaeri chhehaz? (Is everything fine?)”

Dad replied saying, “Yes, everything is fine at home, but not in the Mohalla (locality)!” I was perplexed to know upon further enquiries that there had been an encounter in our neighborhood, at a ‘stone’s-throw’ distance from our house and unfortunately four policemen were killed in the attack while the attackers, supposedly the rebel fighters, decamped unscathed with the rifles of the slain cops. Honestly speaking, I did not know how to react to the news. All I kept asking dad was, “Is mom fine? Is Mr. X fine, is Mrs. Y fine?” given that most of my close relatives live in the same neighborhood and as I learnt, almost all of the men folk in the locality (Mohalla) had fled for the fear of revenge from the cops or army. It was a little reassuring to know that Mom and other women folk of the Mohalla had all safely assembled at one place – our home; and that the men folk were safe in the neighboring villages too.

Such an attack was never expected in our Mohalla, even though our village has seen numerous such encounters earlier. It had never happened in the vicinity of our Mohalla, not even during the peak years of 1990’s violence; although, admittedly our village has been the epicenter of the rebel activities since the inception of the insurgency in the Sopore town. It seemed so surreal to believe that such an attack had actually occurred, so close to my house. And more disturbing were the details of the attack as they emerged. Even though nobody yet knows the true facts of the case, and no witnesses recall the exact sequence of the attack, yet the stories are emerging that give it the credence for being a very daring and unique attack.

It would be too naïve of me to comment on the operational aspects of the attack, being so far away from home, and only having to depend on the hearsay for analysis. However, as the words are circulating in the news items and in the neighborhood, it is clear that the attack was a very well planned one. It is said that a couple of rebels (police say five to six of them) came into our Mohalla around the prayer time of Asr (between 4 to 5pm) and forced the local Sarpanch (village head) to make a call to the police that there were a few suspicious men in the village, possibly the burglars having stolen a cow. The police immediately responded by dispatching four cops in an armored vehicle to the spot. As soon as the police reached the spot – the rebel gunmen waiting in an ambush, opened indiscriminate fire on the 3 cops that came out of the vehicle killing them on the spot. It is said that the 4^th cop tried to escape but he was also mercilessly killed some distance away.

The unfortunate souls were:

1. Constable Mudasir Ahmad Bhat hailing from Shinglipora, Noorbagh, Safakadal, Srinagar.
2. Special Police Officer Mudasir Ahmad Parray hailing from Dungdar, Kreeri, Baramulla district.
3. Constable Gulshan Ahmad Bhat hailing  from Kanispora, Baramulla district, and
4. Havaldar Abdul Rahim Beigh, a resident of central Kashmir’s Ganderbal district.

As hair-raising as it is, it gives me immense pain to see the stage of political rot we have arrived at. My conscience writhes in pain to see that a Kashmiri gets mercilessly gunned down by another Kashmiri, all supposedly for the ‘cause of Kashmir’. And I fail to understand, how?

While I admit that the image of the local police has seriously been dented in the last few years, given their dubious role in civilian killings in the years of 2008, 2009, 2010 and 2013; they are no longer seen as “innocent Kashmiris”. In fact, they have slowly emerged to be the prime target of the rebel gunmen but there is nothing to cherish in that. As a part of the conflict zone, it is often compelling to take sides, remaining neutral can be more damaging sometimes. Our very nature of politics is mired in confusions and contradictions. The equations of rebellion are changing too, all thanks to a policy shift by the central government and the state government. It is no longer a Kashmiri rebel fighting an army man – the outsider. It is evident that the central armed forces are gradually being pushed into the backstage while the frontline in anti-insurgency is being allowed to be taken up by the local police and it is this shift in operations that has resulted in immense challenges and problems, not for the governments but for the health of the rebellion. Straightly as it needs to be put, the Indian government is slowly crafting a “brother-vs-brother” story again. They did it in 50s and 60’s to weaken the plebiscite front by pitching Bakhshi against Abdullah, they did it in 80’s to annihilate MUF via Abdullahs; they did it in 90’s via Ikhwan against Jamaat, then in 2000’s via Special Task Force. Alas, now the only pawn left in the game is the local police.

It might seem easy for many of us to say, whoever is with us is a friend, and whoever isn’t – just an enemy, regardless of the lineage or the association. They often say, politics is a hard-ball approach; there must not be any room for sentiments or mercy. Revolutions are often ruthless and zealous, not timid and tender. But I personally have never been able to assess the path we are treading, or that we may have to tread.

Let us bring the same attack into the picture again to understand the contrast of emotions and actions. It is not as simple as “freedom lovers gunning down freedom haters”. Those who shot bullets were Kashmiris, and those who received bullets were Kashmiris too. Those who shot, shot at the risk of their own lives. And those who received bullets paid with their lives. The question is, why?

Many of the people I spoke to did agree with my views that it was an unfortunate incident and should not have happened. But it is alarming to see that some of my friends conveniently exhaled and said, “Asal korhaakh, yumov chhuv zulum kormut setha.. (they reaped what they had sown – in reference to the cops)”. But we conveniently forget that the actual “zulm” (atrocity) is a Kashmiri killing a Kashmiri (no matter who kills whom). What we may conveniently tend to ignore is the fact that Mudasir Bhat, Mudasir Parray, Gulshan, and Abdul Rahim were ordinary Kashmiris like us, doing their duty as many of us do. The paradox also exists that the rebels themselves are Kashmiris and they too were in one way or the other, doing what they think is their duty. I don’t know about the antecedents of these slain cops, but I’m sure they did not kill anyone except laying their own lives in the cause of duty. Gulshan, as I read from the newspapers, is a father of three kids, having taken up a job due to poverty and being the lone bread winner for the family. The two Mudasirs and Abdul Rahim’s tale must not be difrferenct either. Their families are devastated too. Their children are Kashmiri orphans too, their families are like us too. I wonder how ‘freedom lovers’ would react to Gulshan’s children when they would call their dad as a Martyr. I’m sure the attackers will be called Martyrs too, whenever they lay their lives in future. So the question is, who will decide the definitions for an enemy and a martyr?

We all know it, nobody would wish to put their lives at the end of the barrel of a gun, unless we are compelled to. In most of the cases where youth join police, it is the lack of income that drives them to. In the militant’s case, it is the heightened sense of grievances and brutality at the hands of our occupiers that pushes youth to the extreme. It’s true that the police forces have been made a scapegoat and have been demonized by the policies of their handlers. Yet we must not ignore the fact that they are one among us. After all, not every policeman is an enemy of the rebellion, not everyone is an enemy. There must be a few bad apples and those bad apples have done the most damage to the Kashmiri psyche, I know; but we must be able to see through the translucent sketch and realize that we as Kashmiris are being pitched against one another.

We know of so many cases, where one brother is a policeman while the other is a rebel fighter. We also know of cases, where the guy in our neighborhood is a policeman in the day and a stone-peltor in the evening. We also know of cases, where the top cops have been “sympathetic” to the rebel cause (if not ‘hand in glove’ with them). So the question that has perplexed me for two days now is: Who really defines what is good and what is bad for our nation Kashmir? Who really defines a freedom lover and a freedom hater? Whom do we call a martyr?

If we go by the convenient logic, anyone who lays down their lives for the nation Kashmir must be called a martyr of the nation. By that logic, there is no reason to doubt that these 4 cops were martyrs too. They had not come for a killing, nor to fight the rebels, they had merely come to apprehend the supposed burglars, which of course is the public service. But, somewhere our sympathies are with the rebels too, given that we assume they are also supposedly putting their lives at stake ‘for the nation’. Someone among the police will kill them too, and they too will feature in the list of Martyrs for the nation, for having sacrificed their lives for the cause of Freedom. But in all this confusion, the question arises: Why should a martyr kill a martyr? Can we really afford to lose more lives, to see more widows, to see more orphans and to devastate more families?

Should we not sit back and assess, how do such acts aid our cause of freedom? Can reckless killings really be a solution? And above all, can we really win a war through infighting?

It is a question for all of us. It is for the policeman to asses, when he aims his gun at the innocent protestor. He must question himself; does he really need to obey his unscrupulous officer to kill his own fellowman? The question is also for the rebel fighter, Can he kill anyone and everyone and then label him as an “enemy”, is there not a need to define the “enemy” first? The question is for the common Kashmiri too; Can he afford to be biased in approach, when he is the one being killed on both sides?

I’m sure, such questions are contradictory and often confusing. We can never have an ideal situation where all of us agree and act in a similar fashion.  Our thoughts may not match, our ideologies will be divergent. But the thought that none of us can afford to ignore is that, the life of every Kashmiri is as important as any other Kashmiri. No matter what role we play, and what ideology we follow, our nation cannot withstand a slaughter at its own hands.

I am neither a rebel supporter nor am I a supporter of police (or government for that matter). I am an ordinary Kashmiri, and my body bleeds on the death of every Kashmiri, like my nation of Kashmir does!!!

Meray Shehr Jal Rahey HaiN, Meray Log Mar Rahey HaiN;

Hum He Qatl Ho Rahey HaiN, Hum He Qatl Kar Rahey HaiN…

(My cities are burning, My People are dying;

We are the one dying, We are the ones killing).

Say Peace!!

 

A Wailing Mother in the Martyrs Graveyard, Srinagar