Gar Firdaus, Ruhe Zamin Ast, Hamin Asto, Hamin Asto, Hamin Asto

When Dr. Rubaiya Sayeed was kidnapped by JKLF terrorists in 1989 (I hope you remember/ know about the incident; if you don’t, check on internet), the pressure was on the terrorists to release her at the earliest. These terrorists were fighting for the liberation of J&K which was predominantly Muslim (at least the Kashmir area) and had kidnapped a Muslim woman against the teachings of Islam. It was just a matter of time that they would have released Rubaiya as the public sentiment was building against them on this issue. One noteworthy thing to remember here is that Rubaiya was the daughter of then home minister of India, Mr. Mufti Mohammed Sayeed (first and only person from J&K till date to hold such an important portfolio) and was studying medicine in Kashmir Medical College.

The terrorists were asking for the release of 5 of their comrades from Indian Jails (in Kashmir). Then chief minister of Kashmir, Farooq Abdullah was not ready to release them as he was against kneeling down to the demands of the terrorists. To persuade him, or to say, to force him to release the terrorists through force and subjugation and threats, the Govt. of India sent a ministerial delegation. This delegation was led by a minister with a guttural voice, French beard and having a celebrated painter for brother. This man went on to become the Prime Minister of India and died recently.  He forced Abdullah to release the 5 terrorists from jails. That evening of their release, whole of Srinagar erupted on streets to celebrate the victory of JKLF against the mighty Indian government. They got the belief that they could fight and defeat the Indian govt. That led to the ascendency of JKLF and the separatist movement. JKLF became the chief anti India separatist group in the valley. Till the mid 90’s it was the prime force to reckon with among the separatist groups in J&K but slowly its importance faded with the rise of groups like Hizbul Mujahideen and Harkat-ul-Ansar and the separatist movement turned into terrorism. Harkat was the group behind the kidnapping of 5 westerners in Kashmir in the mid 90’s, one of whom escaped while the rest were killed. Hizbul is still a force to reckon with on the terrorism map of Kashmir but its importance has come down a bit with the arrival of groups like Jaish-e-Mohammed and the deadliest among all, Lashkar-e-Tayyaba.

Maulana Hafiz Sayeed, the chief of Lashkar roams freely in Pakistan under the garb of being the leader of Jamaat ud Daawa which is headquartered in Muridke in Pakistan. Lashkar’s headquarter is also the same.

The founder of Jaish, Maulana Masood Azhar was languishing in an Indian jail before he was released during the hostage crisis of Kandhar hijack in 1999. He went on to form Jaish in 2000 and since then has masterminded several attacks on India. It is considered as the deadliest terrorist organization active in Kashmir and is most notorious for the attack on Indian Parliament in 2001 in collusion with Lashkar.

Another person released in the hostage exchange of 1999 was Omar Sheikh who was incarcerated in Tihar jail, New Delhi for the kidnapping of 4 foreigners from Delhi. He was a British Pakistani and was a classmate of Nasser Hussain (former captain of English cricket team) in school. Later on he went on to murder Daniel Pearl, the Wall Street Journal journalist for which he was awarded the death penalty by a Pakistani court. He is still alive though passing his days in a Pakistani jail.

Sayyed Salahuddin, the Hizbul chief is a Kashmiri originally known as Mohammed Yusuf Shah. Sayyed Salahuddin is his nom-de-gurre. He had contested the 1987 assembly election on the ticket of Muslim United Front (a coalition of extreme separatist political parties) and lost. That election is notorious for the widespread allegations of rigging and bogus polling and known as the most rigged election ever to be held in India.

Yasin Malik and Shabir Shah, two of the main protagonists of the JKLF in the late 80’s and early 90’s faded away and are now pale shadows of their former selves. They were the ones who led the Rubaiya Sayeed kidnapping and their popularity reached its pinnacle when their demands were met and the 5 terrorists released. But after some time their fortunes nosedived. Both live in Kashmir after serving time in Indian jails for their terrorist/ separatist activities. Both of them claim to be non-violent now and declare themselves to be followers of Gandhi.

Kashmir always had a tumultuous history and the situation has not changed in the past couple of hundred years. This place famous for its apples, houseboats, kahwa and beautiful women and repeatedly called heaven on earth; has seen lots of gore and killings in the past couple of decades. Blood has been spilled on streets and innocents, terrorists, police men all have been killed in this war of supremacy or freedom fight. Whatever you call it one fact will not change that Kashmir was once beautiful and peaceful. It may still be beautiful but peace has long left the valley.

Read about the valley. The story is enchanting, interesting and riveting but sometimes it takes a turn and becomes blood curdling.

P.S. Recommended reads on Kashmir are –

1. Cuefewed Night (Memoir)

2. The Collaborator (Fiction)

3. The Veiled Suite (Poems)

4. The Shrinagar Conspiracy (Fiction)

5. Kashmir In Conflict: India, Pakistan and The Unending War (History)

P.P.S. Though flawed, Yahaan is the best movie on Kashmir as far as I am concerned, may be at par with Mission Kashmir. Shoojit Sircar (the man who made Vicky Donor) had made Yahaan with all the passion and his efforts show. Please watch if you have not.

P.P.P.S. I would recommend you to read A case of exploding Mangoes by the Pakistani writer Mohammed Hanif. Though nowhere related to Kashmir, it is a fascinating read. An interesting and funny take on the death of General Zia Ul Haq. Or was it assassination!

Freilos

Memories of Childhood – 1

Couple of months back I visited Delhi in connection with the marriage of a friend. During the functions related to the marriage I met some friends from college whom I had not seen since college ended three and half years back. That get-together got us going about various people and incidents from college, batch mates were remembered, professors were talked about and so on.

Sitting at the airport, waiting for the return flight to Mumbai, on a bone chilling Delhi morning, I was remembering all the talks and laughs of the past few days. I must have been smiling like a fool at that time because many a people looked at me with strange faces while passing by.

All this evoked a strong sense of nostalgia and sitting in the flight, waiting to reach Mumbai and get to office on time, I started thinking about my childhood. Looking out from the window it felt that all those memories were passing in front of me, riding on those white cottony clouds. My childhood was tantalisingly close to me and it looked like I would be able to touch myself, from an era gone by, I just needed to stretch my hand.

Mujhko yakeen hai sach kahti thi, jo bhi ammi kahti thi,

Jab mere bachpan ke din the, chand me pariyan rahti thi .

Today when I look back and think, it all seems to belong altogether to a different era. It feels unbelievable to me that I am come so far from all that. Running on train tracks with friends with everyone trying to outrun each other, standing on somebody’s shoulders to pluck Bel (a fruit) from the trees, standing under the Jamun tree with open hands to catch the falling Jamuns when a friend shook the branches after climbing atop the tree, running through the crop fields, bending for a second and plucking the radishes and carrots, travelling on the roof of buses, running full throttle on a railway platform to catch a moving train; plucking potatoes from fields and cooking them under wood, the list is endless. I can’t even imagine that there was a time when along with friends I used to jump on the ground from high walls whereas today I am acrophobic. Every single memory of those times evoke a strong sense of nostalgia.

Those were the days when I had to wear nickers to go to school which barely reached my knees. While growing up I used to feel shy to wear those pants in a co-ed classroom. I used to ask my mother, “In films girls always wear smaller clothes than boys then why do I need to wear smaller clothes than girls to go to school” (girls had to wear skirts which reached below their knees). And not strangely, my mother never had an answer to that question.

I have planned to write about my childhood memories in several parts, in small posts. As of now I plan to write about the TV serials of the days, movies, travels, other amenities like 2 wheelers and phones and life as a whole. I will not try to be philosophical or gyaani, will be writing just about the memories.

Those were the days of Chitrahar, Ramayan, He-man and Rangoli etc. I still remember that in those pre-cable tv days, my parents always woke me up early on Sunday mornings. Why? Rangoli was telecast at 7 am. Then there was that programme on Guru Granth Sahib teachings, Gao Saachi Baani. Then He-Man, the Master of Universe and Ramayana. If I am not mistaken and my memory serves me right, Ramayana had a re-run on Sunday evenings also. After Ramayana ended, Sunday mornings were taken up by Shyam Benegal’s Bharat Ek Khoj where Roshan Seth who played Nehru, used to come on screen and teach us about our history. Irrfan Khan and Salim Gouse are couple of actors whom I remember from the serial who played a plethora of historical characters every week, in a new story. There also was a desi science fiction series named Sigma which was telecast on Sunday evening in the late 80’s (I have been unable to find any mention of it anywhere on internet though, but have confirmed about the same with friends). Sunday afternoons had those half an hour Spic Macay classic concerts for Spirit of Unity or something like that. Then 12 pm was for Charlie Chaplin and at 1 am we were treated to a regional language film. Spiderman at 3:30 pm and Hindi films at 4 pm completed the Sunday entertainment quota. Saturday nights were for Streethawk where everything about the protagonist was black, literally, dress, bike, helmet, shoes, gloves everything. He vroomed on his bike and my child eyes used to fill up with excitement and astonishment. And how can I miss Malgudi days, tanana tananana tanana tananana, that signature tune of the serial

Mere dil ke kone me ek bachcha rahta hai,

Bado ki dekh kar duniya bada hone se darta hai.

If you are reading this you may feel that I have unnecessary stretched my reminiscences about my childhood with respect to those TV shows on Doordarshan. But please understand it is intentional. I am sure that almost all of you who are reading this and are above 25 have been entertained by these shows at one point of time or other. I have detailed those memories here because while writing about them I relived them again and it felt wonderful.

There are a number of shows which I have not talked about such as Rajani, Hum Log, Fatichar, Jasoos Karamchand, Katha Sagar, Mujrim Hazir, Mungerilal ke haseen sapne….and many more. I hope to write about them too soon, time permitting.

P.S. Nawazuddin Siddiqui, that amazing actor from Kahani, Peepli Live, Gangs of Wasseypur and Talash, was a watchman in a housing society in Shahdara in east Delhi. So the next time when you see your watchman, don’t ignore him, treat him well and remember his face. You never know when you might see him on the big screen.

Au Revoir