Axed
My exodus story (Part-2)
My eyes witnessed what I had enjoyed in action thriller movies and never imagined that it could happen in real life too.
Satesh Tikoo was a friend, though much elder to us, a tall well built, fearless macho man among pandits in the entire downtown locality. A dependable guy, whom we always looked up to if we had to face any case of a youth cult conflict. He also happened to be a friend to many prominent local gundas (goons) of that era in the city. One of them was Farooq Dar alias Bitta Karate. Satesh was living very next to one of my close class mate, Ajoy. We would often see him and greet each other. Bitta had already become a dreaded terrorist … a milton (militant in local parlance). The separatist agenda was clear. To kill first those, who were strong, fearless, prominent and capable to resist. One fine day, we received the news of Satesh perfidiously been shot dead at point blank range by his disloyal friend Bitta and one of his associate. He was called upon at his residence in a usual friendly manner by Bitta. On his holler, when he opened the door, they took no time to press the trigger of their Kalashnikov hidden inside their Pheran (Kashmiri gown worn in winters). Despite shot at several times, Satesh managed to confront them with his bare hands, grabbing Bitta’s neck and almost strangled him, abusing him for this insidious and cowardly act before he breathed his last. So ruthless and deceitful , but It wasn’t easy for them to kill such strong & courageous guys like Satesh, which they knew and therefore resorted to such treacherous tactics .Bitta has mercilessly murdered at least 20 KPs on record and perhaps many more not known and has been publicly boasting about it . His case is still pending. Situation continued to worsen on every passing day. Jagmohan ,the governor was trying his best to contain the turmoil, but was not supported enough by the Centre and State Govt. then .His sincere efforts and the goodwill which he had earned, from the masses during his previous tenure as Governor went down the drain , further antagonized by the members of then dissolved assembly of Farooq Abdullah regimen, who were already boiling with his appointment. Kashmiri Pandits were picked , targeted and brutally killed by masked militia men in routine. On the other hand, in a surreptitious way and as a part of the agenda, terrorist groups were picking up youth from majority community were motivated and lured to join the muhim (movement). The recipe was to brain wash them first and send them Aporr ( other side of LOC) to training camps and prepare a new breed of insurgents to fuel the operation. They would then be assigned territories, fight security forces, create mayhem to keep the flag of militancy up in the name of Azadi ( Jihad word was not in vogue during that time ).Some of my childhood playmates , including few from our close neighborhood had embraced the path of militancy . Some of them were known to have got either killed or go absconding later . The militants comprised of mix of locals, supported and commanded by militants from other side which also included Afghanis’. I recall, Maste Gul, the poster boy, a dreaded terrorist then had visited a shrine in outskirts of Srinagar with his militia squad to muster up local support .Area commanders were assigned territories to carry out their operations of killings, blasts and attacks, throw grenades on security forces patrolling or on duty. How all this was put in place much earlier in mid eighties only to built the base and engage local squad was a part of strategic move which could be understood later only .Noticeably new faces of men emerged from nowhere, with a difference from locals (long bearded with clean moustaches) visible and purposefully roaming around in our localities mixing up with locals youths, a face of Wahabism, never witnessed before. Intruders had probably sneaked in the valley much before to shape up the movement. We had never seen such staunch rendezvous at Masjids before as they showed up now.
Mallan Shah ,an owner of a sole chemist shop at Langate, a beautiful small village in south Kashmir near Handwara, catering to the only Govt. dispensary that time in that village which I used to visit him, on way during my professional tour in that area. He was too friendly and I remember, I used to spend lot of time with him chit chatting, having tea and crack jokes. He was of short stature and very well built with a glistening face. He would address me as pandiji, though I was much younger to him. Only after several months of my visits and meeting with him, he revealed about Maqbool Bhatt, the mastermind and founder of ‘Kashmir liberation front’ (better known as JKLF) back in 70’s. Bhatt was very slippery and had escaped from police custody several times and while he was being chased one day by police, he collided with Malan Shah who didn’t know who he was and probably thought him a criminal on a run. Malan caught hold of him tightly around in his strong arms and wouldn’t let him go until the police arrived and arrested him. Maqbool was sentenced to death and hanged later and the anti India movement started by him had died down in the valley since then. It raised its head again with the arrival of insurgency in 80’s and became active again in the forefront to carry out its anti India and liberation movement before and during the exodus time, followed by Hizbul Mujahedeen, a Pak based Terrorist group commanded by Salla-ud–din who hailed from a suburb village of Srinagar called Soibhug and had taken refuge in PoK with their full support. Soibhug happens to be a town where my maternal grandfather was a land owner.
As the D Day was approaching, the ‘Muhim’ got intensified and it was gaining momentum from every corner. Administration was losing control and security forces where targeted and had no clear combating plan to curb the menace. Security seemed frustrated and it was more of defending their own lives than attacking the insurgents as the intent and instructions were to have least civilian causalities . On the other hand, terrorists used civilians as shield and scapegoats to defend themselves and carry out their operations under its cover. They would adopt Gorilla war tactics by attacking an army convoy or a bunker in the midst of civilians and then escape the scene into the panic stricken crowd, letting civilians to die in retaliation from the security forces. This would further suit them as it created hatred against India and invited criticism from human rights violation watchdogs.
Local newspapers and tabloids started boldly publishing threat warnings issued on behalf by Hizbul Mujaheddin and other groups , threatening all Hindus to leave Kashmir immediately .Posters with threatening messages to all Kashmiri citizens to follow the Islamic laws or face consequences . The directives by masked men included abidance by the Islamic dress code, a prohibition on alcohol, cinemas, and strict restrictions on Kashmiri women to follow Shariyat laws and people were told to reset their time to Pak standard time. We were still hoping the situation to improve and normalize one day. But to our utter failure of imagination, the worst had yet to come…
The infamous D day started with usual winter dull day with cacophony of events looming with news of killings and blasts pouring in at every interval from every quarters .As it were peak winters, the days would pass like an interval period of a cinema film and turn into night at 5.30 in the evening. We would remain inside our houses except for an hour or so in the mornings, go to market and fetch basic foods to keep ourselves alive. We would not see even our next door neighbors for many days. We would steal few moments out of the curfew relaxation hours to meet few close friends in the vicinity. Recalling one such incident, Mintu, a friend of mine residing a few houses away .His house was at the nearby chowk. I, he and one of our common friend Bilal used to meet at his gate and chat for hours since our childhood days. On that day, we stole some moments and met between the curfew relaxation hours. The main road of the city touching our mohalla was visible from there so we could keep a watch, in case of any eventuality and immediately leave and go back to our respective homes. That day, while we were engrossed in talking, all of sudden, we heard shouts and shots coming. Probably, an attack on army bunker by the militants. Army under frustration opened fire .In a spur of moment, one of the bullets hit the door where we were standing but in a nick of time before we had dispersed. We would often see army marching just outside our houses chasing miscreants who were throwing stones and abuses. The security forces usually restricted from opening fire in midst of localities and mohallas. At the most they would beat few who would get caught to vent out their frustration. Sometime to scare them, they would form a round circle of four or five of them and strike the butt of their 3 not 3 rifles in tandem to create a sound of gun shots.
Our evening attractions included a long wait for telecast of local news on Doordarshan TV channel at 6 pm to get day’s update followed by Governor’s address pleading citizens again to calm down and cooperate with the army and administration to maintain law and order situation.
On that obnoxious & terrifying night at around nine, we four (me, two of my sisters and brother –in-law). Mom was away to Jammu on that fateful night. in our own oblivion,all four of us were sitting inside at the four corners of our living room . It was just before we were to retire for bed, we heard yells echoing outside. Since all doors and windows were completely closed and covered due to cold but more so because of prevailing fear and insecurity. The intensity of shouts kept increasing but we could still not comprehend what was happening outside. The shouts became prominent when substantiated with loudspeakers from nearby Masjids echoing in through the air. It was only when my sister out of curiosity managed to go upstairs and peek through a window. Breathless, she came running down informing us about huge demonstrations outside our house on the road with more and more people joining and grouping. We could not judge the frenzy of the crowd until we all went upstairs to our attic and it blew our minds. We immediately switched off the lights .We were aghast and didn’t know what do. We had 3 storeys and an attic. Frightened and dumbstruck, we went up to the attic ( Tawer in local language). The attic had no windows and it was open from all sides. In that chilly night, we were profusely sweating with fear and bewilderment and trying to figure out what all was happening outside with our heads hidden down and eyes awestruck with fear. We were now witnessing the uproar outside. The crowd had gathered at a nearby chowk, more people flocking in, screaming and shouting slogans in dead of night, like a silhouette of frenzy battalion of soldiers ready for charge. The loudspeakers in all Masjids were roaring with warning hymns and azadi slogans like a bugler sound of soldiers on attack in a war. We were expecting them any moment to break into our house, loot and kill us. The only thing now which was etching our minds of me and Jijaji, how to defend and save our women from this frenzy.
“Kashmir mei agar rehna hai, Allah-O-Akbar kehna hai (If you want to stay in Kashmir, you have to say Allah-O-Akbar)”.
“Yahan kya chalega, Nizam-e-Mustafa (What do we want here? Rule of Shariat)”.
“Asi gachchi Pakistan, Batao roas te Batanev san (We want Pakistan along with Hindu women but without their men)”.
Thus came the climax of a turmoil ,we had been going through for past many months and the beginning of our greatest miseries of all times to follow. The whole valley, particularly the areas where minorities were thick, had gone through a similar nightmare, that night, which we came to know many days later as there was lack of communication and chaos building up. From the very next day, KPs were left with no option but to run for their lives. The whole plan worked well for them to dispatch us from our homeland. It is said that it was a well planned coup attempt that day organized by separatist with the help of gathering huge mass support to declare their Azadi day. Capture important Govt. establishments like communication etc. But fortunately the attempt was successfully turned down by security forces at the last moment. But for us who lost their roots for ever.
More and more families left the valley with or without their important belongings. We too left in week’s time without any belongings
The day marked the beginning of our new existence as ‘Visthapith’ (displaced) KP in exile, which we continue to be. The journey of our real sufferings and endurance……
To be contd.…… The aftermath
To know more and overview of what had happened, please go through the link below
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Exodus_of_Kashmiri_Hindus
Disclaimer :- The content in this website is purely based on the true feelings and general view prevailing at that period of time with no intention to hurt or harm the reputation of any individual or a group or a community whatsoever. There is no claim of accuracy of information shared in the content but for its essence and purpose of narrating a story.
