Tawseef Nazir
The 31st of March, 2018, lying on my bed, surfing the internet, I got a call from a friend telling me that the Government Forces had laid cordon around Dialgam, a suburb of my township in South Kashmir.
“A huge number of forces are rushing towards a house, I think an encounter is about to start,” he said. “Really! Tell me where exactly?” I asked.
Around 1:30pm that friend called me again. “What happened”, I asked,
“Brother Firing is going on I think the encounter has started”.
Encounter started between security forces and a local Militant “Rouf Ahmad” in Dialgam area of the district. Heavy firing was on, in fact, I clearly could hear the bullet sounds at my home that echoed the entire township in the dark of the night.
Half an hour into the encounter, amid the still and the bullets piercing that stillness, Authorities barred Mobile internet services in the district. Expecting the day to be hectic, we planned for the morning, after the initial gunshots, the exchange of fire stopped, indicating that the encounter had reached its conclusion, the clock was ticking 3:30 in the night.
Another call from another friend, “Another encounter has started at Dragad area of south Kashmir’s Shopian district.” Another phone call, within seconds informed me that the third encounter had raged in Kachdoora area of Shopian.
“No, I cannot cover so many events in a single day, it is like travelling poles apart,” I said to myself.
Soon, I started formulating plans for the morning, and I was planning which of the three encounters to cover, then a rush, I left the plans, bagged my camera, started my vehicle and ran to the nearest Dialgam area.
It was Ist Day of April now, I was at the encounter site Dialgam, it was devastating sight. The owner of the house was gathering the remains from his dream; his house destroyed during the gunfight, with my hands shaking and heart beating very fast, I started capturing the scenes of the obliteration.
After spending some time at the site of the encounter, we rushed to cover the funeral of “Rouf Bashir Khanday” a local militant who had been killed in Dialgam encounter. The funeral was a celebration of martyrdom, a mourning of loss of human life, slogans, hooting, cheering and wailing.
Around 11 Am, the mass funeral was concluded, by this time I was hungry, had not had a sip of wate. After covering the funeral, I left for Shopian where twin encounters were going on in two separate villages and 10-13 militants were trapped.
1230 PM, nearing the encounter spot at Kachdora in Shopian, a group of Army soldiers manning the streets, stopped us after earlier we had been stopped by a group of stone throwing crowds. When they stopped us, one of them shouted “Here they are! Mukhbir (informers) paid media, biased media. I was shaking, my heart was beating fast because I could clearly see the anger in their eyes and when we were being stopped I saw three to four injured youths being taken away.
The interference of adults calmed them down.
One of the Security Force personal fired a tear smoke shell, that went through my legs and the stones were travelling near my head it was like being caught on the midst of a frontier, a border, during the war.
Seeing our condition some of the youth asked us to step aside and to leave the spot. After we left the spot now the concern was how to reach the encounter site. I asked some of the locals if there was any alternate way to reach the encounter site, there was none, they said, except through the apple orchards.
Going through the orchards, though exposed us to a higher risk of being shot by security forces, perhaps through a stray bullet, who had laid ambush around the encounter site, or perhaps as a case of mistaken identity.
We decided to take the risk and started moving through the apple orchards, leading us all was Muneeb-ul-islam, another photojournalist, followed by me. Walking through the orchards, I was immersed in prayers, wishing to not get shot by security forces. The walking was one of the toughest exercises I have ever undertaken, With my legs shaking, my heart pounding the thirst and the glittering sun- yes the toughest exercise.
Thank God, after the long walk through the apple orchards, we finally arrived at the encounter site in Kachdoora Shopian, but before we could take a breath of relief we were stopped by the two army personnel daring us, “Who are you? Where did you come from?”
“We are journalists”, I said.
The Army men straightway wired someone on the wireless, “whether to allow us or not.” I think the person on the wireless denied, for soon after, he finished talking, he asked us to stay there and display our identity cards while another one searched our bag packs, even they barred us from taking or making phone calls.
It was around 2:30 pm, the two army men kept us there like prisoners, they didn’t even let us take/ make phone calls home. It only after one hour they let us go. When we reached the spot we saw numbers of the journalist friends there covering the encounter, I couldn’t understand why they kept us there when all other journalists were allowed to work.
Since we were very thirsty we asked our friends for some water, it felt like a particle of something serenely cold or a libation treading down my throat, I soon had my senses back.
The Job was not done, I now, had to reach Dragad Shopian, So we left for there and arrived there at around 5:30, but by then, the encounter had ended, I clicked some pictures there and wanted to leave immediately considering that getting out of Shopian with 12 killings was a tough job and then the toughest job was sending our work to our offices, knowing that the state would have imposed an internet ban.
Travelling back towards Islamabad (Anantnag) we witnesses intense clashes on the way and had very narrow escapes there.