Doctors join the protests

SRINAGAR, SEPTEMBER12

 

Saima Khan marches with her white apron carefully folded over her arm alongside hundreds of other doctors. She doesn’t carry a stethoscope today, in fact none of them does. Instead, there are colored placards raised from their hands and pro freedom slogans escaping their lips. Saima is a 4^th semester medical student and it is the first time she has come out to protest. In fact, it is the first pro freedom protest of Kashmiri Doctors and Government Medical College (GMC) students of Kashmir.

 

After Friday prayers, scores of doctors and medical students from GMC, Srinagar came out on the road shouting slogans for Azaadi. The protest march was organized by the medical fraternity which includes doctors, senior specialists, registrars, Post Graduate students, paramedics and all ministerial staff of GMC. The protestors marched around the streets of Karan Nagar shouting ‘We want freedom’ and ‘Indian forces go back’.

 

The young medical students were angry at the way security forces had dealt with the recent protests in Srinagar. “I saw how the security forces had shot unarmed Kashmiri protestors in their heads and chests. The last month of my duty changed me completely when I saw bullet wounds and deaths”, says an intern doctor, Muzzafar.

 

Several female students and doctors were a part of the protest as well. “Our parents only asked us to be careful but did not stop us from joining this march. We don’t want to live with India”, says Saima.

 

As the procession kept moving, other people began to join in. When the procession had marched for two lanes only, the size of the protestors swelled considerably. The roads were lined by the Central Reserve Police Force (CRPF) troopers but the protestors avoided any confrontation with them. They however kept shouting slogans against the security forces. “They (CRPF) can kill a few hundred or thousand more Kashmiris but they will never be able to kill the spirit of freedom in Kashmiris”, says an animated Adil Khan, a young doctor. “I and my colleagues have seen 14 year boys writhing in pain because of bullet injuries and we understood how things are divided on a communal basis. But when Indian soldiers come to us for treatment, we treat them the way we would treat our own people.”

 

Several doctors took videos of the processions with their own cameras and phones. “We have made our own blog where in we wrote everything tat we saw in hospitals as doctors. We have started uploading videos and pictures on the internet”, says a senior doctor. “The moment the march ends, some of us will rush to our computers and protest online”, another doctor adds. 

Lal Chowk- one day before 'Lal Chowk Chalo'

SRINAGAR, OCTOBER5

 

The streets of Lal Chowk covered with wilted Chinar leaves crackle under the feet of soldier’s heavy boots. The cold wind gushes through the deserted streets touching, on its way, the ‘forbidden’ Ghanta Ghar (Clock tower). It is one day prior to the ‘Lal Chowk rally’ scheduled for October 6 and Kashmir is under Curfew for the third time in last two months. And Lal Chowk- the Red Square of Kashmir is transformed into a cantonment.  

 

The base of the historic Clock tower is coiled around by rusted barb wires and the broken glass frames at the top lean out from the tower. Every road leading to the clock tower is barred- by red traffic cones, by white iron barricades and hundreds of AK- 47 wielding soldiers.

 

Lal Chowk or the ‘Red Square’ has a place in the history of Kashmir and more importantly in the political changes in Kashmir. It was here at the feet the clock tower that Sheikh Abdullah in front of thousands of Kashmiris recited a Persian poem of love, saying “I have become you and You have become me” to Jawaharlal Nehru, the then Prime Minister of India. Then with the beginning of militancy in Kashmir, Lal Chowk became the site for frequent encounters and attacks between security forces and militants. And, two months back, it was atop the same clock tower that half a million people armed with banners and placards hoisted green flags.

 

After the recent wave of mass protests in Kashmir, the separatists in the valley called for a peaceful march to Lal Chowk on August 25. But on August 24, the state arrested all separatist leaders and clamped strict curfew in the valley lasting for nine days. The security forces had, at that time, blocked even the view of clock tower with tin sheets fixed on iron bars and concertina wires rolled on the streets of Lal Chowk for several meters.

 

The call for ‘Lal Chowk Chalo’ was revisited by the separatists keeping it after the month of Ramadan and Eid. This time as well, the state machinery came down heavily imposing curfew in the entire valley one day prior to the day of the march. Lal Chowk is again surrounded by armored vehicles and the Clock Tower is out of bounds.

 

The roads are silent except for the snarling wind and raucous laughter.  And there are voices of distant screeching tyres, piercing shouts, mellowed voices and of reverse gears. 

From Songs to Slogans

SRINAGAR, JUNE 18

 

No one in the valley hums songs anymore. It is slogans that linger in air. In Kashmir, it is the season of slogans. People breathe slogans, discuss them, when it comes to rallies or processions, the place reverberates with separatist slogans. And when people assembled near the Tourist Reception Center (TRC) to present memorandum to the United Nations office, the transition in slogans with the change in leaders was quite visible.

 

As hundreds of thousands of people began to gather and fill the huge ground and its adjoining roads for several kilometers, the slogans rung clear and loud. It was all freedom. ‘We want freedom’ was the only slogan for an entire half an hour while JKLF leader Yasin Malik spoke. “Freedom for this side: freedom for that side” was Malik’s slogan- referring to both parts of Kashmir.

 

‘Hum Kya Chahte- Aazadi’(what do we want –Freedom) was rhymed from the loud speakers mounted on top of trucks, buses and trees. Then someone holding the microphone would whisper ‘ho aayi aayi’ (it has come, it has come) and the thousands would reply ‘Aazadi’ (Freedom). A few young boys would suddenly huddle around in the middle of a bigger procession, tap their feet vigorously on the dusty ground below and sing ‘Bharat ko ragda- de ragda’ (we have stomped India- Stomped it).

 

When Hurriyat hardline leader, Syed Ali Shah Geelani, made his way through the mammoth procession, the slogans changed. Pakistan made its way gradually. ‘Pakistan se rishta kya- la illa ha illal la’ (what is our bond with Pakistan- that there is no god but God) – the crowd shouted. Slogans like ‘Kashmir banega Pakistan’ (Kashmir will become Pakistan) resounded in a few corners of the ground. When Geelani concluded his speech, raising another slogan ‘hum Pakistani hain- Pakistan hamara hai’ (we are Pakistanis- and Pakistan is ours) and people said zaroor (definitely). Most of the faces in the crowd drooped, hands didn’t clap, and lips didn’t open to utter slogans. Someone sitting in the crowd shouted ‘Hum kya chahte’ and people raised hands and replied ‘Azadi’.     

 

“Freedom, that is what we have assembled here for. That is why we have died- for 

Youth vote in Kashmir - for varied reasons

GANDERBAL-KANGAN, NOVEMBER 23

Mohammad Rizwan, 22, is inching closer to the Electronic Voting Machine (EVM) in Ganderbal to “choose the lesser evil”. Standing in the queue since morning, Javaid Ahmad Dar, 19, is out in the line to get his unemployed older brother a job. Twelve-year-old Yousuf Ahmad in Kangan town did not play cricket with his friends today, only to defeat the National Conference candidate.

In a free-for-all election in Ganderbal and Kangan today, young men vote with mundane expectations. Scores of teenagers, jostling and haggling in the long queues for polling admit that they were in the front rows of separatist rallies two months ago, shouting slogans and pelting stones. Few among them were hurt and even arrested by the security forces.

After the separatist call for a poll boycott, a low voter turnout was expected in the valley already seething with anger and swelling with peaceful pro-freedom protests. But, to everyone’s surprise, the voter turnout was huge- both in the first phase and today in the second phase. Mohammad Rizwan, an arts student, defends his decision to vote by saying that ‘even if no votes were cast, someone will still win’. “They (Politicians) are all social evils but we are here to choose the lesser evil,” says Rizwan. “Boycotting the conduction of elections was an option but not casting our vote makes hardly any sense now. Someone or the other will sit on our heads for the next six years, so why not choose the one who is at least better than the rest”.

To some young voters, these elections have nothing to do with the sentiment of Azaadi but are only a contest for choosing ‘better local administrators’. “Te election is only for local governance. We were leading in the pro-Azaadi protests and still stand fast for the freedom of Kashmir,” says 19 year old Javaid Ahmad Dar, standing in a polling queue at Rabitar village in Ganderbal. “We are only choosing a better administration. We need better drinking water, better roads and better education”.

Today, another reason which brought the young voters out is the presence of local candidates. The votes are either cast for or against the local candidates- who happen to be friends, relatives or neighbours of the voters - and not the parties they represent or their equations with the centre. It is either ‘sympathy’ or ‘hatred’ towards the local candidates which has brought young voters from playfields and separatist circles to the polling booths. “We know the candidate for whom we are going to vote. He is our neighbour and we cannot let some one else win and our neighbor loose,” says 18 year old Parvez Ahmad Najar, Kangan. “After all, our neighbour will still be helpful to us than someone we hardly know”.

The long lines everywhere are a mix of young and old. The youngest, however, are yet to reach 18 – the minimum age to exercise the right to vote. Thus Yousuf Ahmad, a class seven student tries to hide the faint fuzz of a moustache with the collar of his chequered black ‘phiran’. “I study in class 12,” says Yousuf in a creaking voice, his fair face and ears blushing. The others standing in the queue burst in a friendly laughter. “Tell him we study in seventh grade. We look our age,” says one of his classmates. Ahmad is one among hundreds of under-aged voters, waiting eagerly in queues. “I would rather have played cricket with my friends but I only want to defeat Mian Altaf- the NC candidate- because he did not do anything for us in the last six years,” Ahmad says.

Another reason for the youth voter turnout was after recent protests in the valley in which 53 unarmed protesters were killed in police and CRPF firing, people in the valley were disillusioned with the regular ‘chalo’ calls from the separatist camp. Some young voters say that they came out to vote today after Azaadi seemed a distant and dangerous dream which caused Kashmir hundreds of thousands of lives. “What Azaadi? How can we even think now that India will give us freedom? If they would have to do so, they would first wipe away half of Kashmir,” says Shugufta Yousuf, a college student. Dressed in a long ‘phiran’, with her index finger raised up in air, Yousuf shouts, “Franchise is my right and I will cast my vote for the improvement of my society and my life”.

-----------ENDS---------

War on You- Tube

SRINAGAR, AUGUST 20

 

On the streets of Kashmir, this latest wave of mass protests is fast transcending from stones to the cyber space. And in a matter of few weeks, it has bloomed into a war on You Tube.

 

Kashmir, which earlier found its way into the video site only by the famous Led Zeppelin song suddenly witnesses a surge in the videos. Led zeppelin has been pushed down the list in a space of few weeks only. And this time as you hit the key, videos of processions, protests and the stone pelting take the top spot.

 

The ‘war’ on You Tube started with the famous Chris de Burgh song, Revolution. Chris’ voice has the background of pictures from Kashmir – a montage that reflects Kashmir’s turbulent years. Soon after the first upload, the hits started and the links were sent through emails and social networking sites. This video of Chris marked Kashmir’s stint with You Tube.

 

“We started uploading Kashmiri resistance videos to inform the world community. We want them to get an idea about what is happening in Kashmir”, says Younis Rashid (Name Changed), 23, who constantly uploads videos on the net. Younis is a Kashmir University student, who along with his friends records video clips with their Cellphone cameras. “Sometimes, we use our phones or else use the available or downloadable footage. Cyber space takes our struggle to a new level.”     

 

Videos from Kashmir have mostly been uploaded during the 9-day uprising in July, which took place immediately after the Amarnath land transfer controversy. In fact, it was for the first time that cellphones were used to capture images and videos during these 9-days. Hundreds of cellphones wuld focus on procession, on stone pelting angry boys and the fluttering flags. And it somehow saw its way to the internet. “In rallies and processions, flooded with people, raised hands with camera phones capturing everything is a very common sight now. I also recorded some moments from the march to Pampore but I did not know how to upload it on the net, then I gave it to a friend who knows computers and someone told me that it is available on the internet now,” says a 22-year-old Arooj Ahmad (Name Changed).

 

The responses which are posted to the videos reflect the condition on ground in Kashmir right now. Most of the people write abusive messages and it is a full blown fight.  

 

With the number of hits (clicks which the videos get) to these videos from Kashmir increasing, more and more Kashmiri people are trying the You Tube. For Kashmiris, cyber space is a new front that they pay attention to while still clutching to stones.  

 

 

Kashmiri blood spilled again- Shiites cant mourn now!!!

The white smoke from a whirling shiny steel tear smoke canister reels up in the cold winter air, and incessant ambulance sirens cut across the jumbled far away voices. Smoke lingers like a heavy curtain over the road, making scores of slogan shouting mourners look like silhouettes emerging out of mist. Several people lie flat on the black tarmac and on side pavements mumbling, ‘Ya Hussain- Ya Hussain’. On the eighth day of Muharram, a four kilometer procession of Shiite mourners in Srinagar slowly turns into a protest march but still does not make it to its destination, only leaving more than 30 mourners wounded, scores in jail and countless crying.

 

“What harm have we done to you? We are only following our religion, please let us go and mourn our loss,” an old woman pleads before a group of J-K policemen and CRPF personnel. “One day, God will seek an answer from you for wielding this baton on a mourner.”

 

The Muharram procession in Shiite sect of Muslims mourns the martyrdom of the grandson of Prophet Muhammad, Imam Hussain. It was the battle field of Karbala in Iraq where Imam Hussain and his 72 followers were martyred. Across the world, Shiites mourn the first ten days of Muharram which is the first month of Islamic calendar.  

 

The procession was banned by in 1989 after militancy started in the valley. Shiite mourners today hoped that the new government will be lenient with the processions and not injure any of them. “We thought that the democratic government has been restored and we would not be beaten mercilessly but we are again disappointed and our religion is being suppressed,” says Aamir Ali, 26, a mourner.  

 

As the procession advances slowly, the protestors pelt the tear smoke shells back on the police party, and move forward in a fast run. Police retrieves a few meteres, but fires dozens of tear canisters back straight at the crowd. The crowd again disappears behind the smoke and police follows for a baton charge.

 

“If the government can provide security for so many yatris, why can they do it for us? Why is out faith and religion being strangled,” says Ajaz Hussain Joo, a mourner.

 

Zamin Ali, a five year old boy, in the middle of a group of women mourners resisting arrest, sobs without noise. Tear drops trickle over his nose blushed by cold, as his grandmother tightens the black band on his head. “I want to go home. Please take me home,” he cries.  

 

The Imam Bada is now just a few lanes ahead and that is where the procession is headed. Police again fires tear smoke canisters and the mourners scatter again. No mourner gets past the Dalgate crossing.

 

More than fifty meters ahead in a narrow lane, next to Imam Bada, two long files of mourners raise Pro Hamas and pro Hussain slogans. The men move their heads in unison, their hard palms strike the hollow rib cages in rhythm with the slogans and the women cry. Girls are perched on top of windows and lightly beating their chest, in sync with the rhythm. The high pitched slogans halt abruptly, a mellowed song of mourning begins and one leads to another.

 

All the Shiites want to reach here to mourn together. Today, this lane is out of bounds for the Shiites other than those who live in the locality.  There are no concertina wires though, no bullets have been shot today but ambulances ferry injured to the same hospitals no differently than before.

Lal Chowk- A day before elections.

 

The soldiers walk back in two long queues, their rifles slung on shoulders and tall steel Tiffin boxes dandling in hands. As the sun snuffs out, their day ends and Lal Chowk (clock tower) is released from the siege. One day before Srinagar goes to polls, Lal Chowk is again deserted with barricades and barb wires sprawled all across the roads, and no civilians in sight.

Black and white election posters are strewn across the tiled pavements near the clock tower. Some posters are still left on the walls, most of them with torn edges and sides. A large colored poster of Shabir Shah, the separatist leader, his finger raised and hundreds of tiny heads listening to him is still pasted to the wall. The text on Shah’s poster is a couplet of Allama Iqbal. “The nation whose youth’s self has a resilience of steel; no swords are needed in that nation.” A smaller black and white poster in which Muzzafar Shah, the Awami National Conference candidate, urges people to vote for him tomorrow is pasted over it.

The clock tower is out of time on all sides and the digital advertising panels are blank. The base of the tower is wound with barb wires. Three months back, it was here at a similar dusk that torch flames danced till late and fire crackers sparkled high up the sky. It was the Amarnath land revocation order that led thousands of men and women to come out and celebrate on the streets.

“We don’t even know where the polling booth is and we don’t want to know. We don’t want to vote nor will anyone from our family,” says Mohammad Ayub, a resident of Abi Guzar. Ayub was in all the protests and celebrations and is confused at the turn of events. “I thought that we would soon be free but we are voting in large numbers. We should think what we want. I cant understand a thing.”

The Maisuma area is silent and as usual guarded by countless soldiers. The narrow street is deserted and silent.  Few boys walk past, talking among themselves. Even they don’t know where is polling booth is. “We will set it on fire if we knew where it is. It must be in some Superintend’s office. Where else can it be?”