Meer Irfan
Pleasant winter sun has come out on Tuesday. Some years back, people would be joyful and with a smile on their faces, they’d rush out of their houses to enjoy the pleasant February sun. However, today, walking the match-stick size roads of Shopian countryside is not the same as back then. Deserted and calm, a few faces that are visible here, seem gloomy – nobody knows why!
Among a couple of people walking these streets are two old men – one with a herringbone cap- about 6 feet tall, wearing a Pheran, a walking wooden stick in his hand, a fair complexion. His other hand is resting on the shoulder of another man with a white beard. Mohammed Anwar and Chaman Lal have spent the prime of their youth, their old age together. They have been friends for the last 35 years.
About fourty years ago, Mohammed Anwar worked as a labour and often found himself working at the houses of Kashmiri Pandits in the Zainapora area of Shopian. Of the dozens of Pandit residents in the area, five families still reside there. The area remained untouched by the targeted killings against Kashmiri Pandits in the 1990s, which forced mass migration. Many in Kashmir believe that the migration of Kashmiri Pandits, which is referred to as exodus by Kashmiri Pandits was a brainchild of the then governor Jagmohan.
Anwar saw a gentleman at the house of Sri Kanth, a respected man in the Muslim-dominated area, who often took a keen interest in his work and life. This interest later nurtured into a life-long bond of friendship in the valley marred by deadly violence.
Zainapora, Shopian is a large belt that comprises a total of 13 villages. At a walkable distance from the main town of Zainapora lies Heff, Shermal, Sugan, Chillipora, Awneera, Safanagri and Turkwangam – the epicenter of the new-age militancy. In fact, many security personnel have, on the record, stated that the change of tactics from ‘guerrilla to online’ mode began here in Turkwangam, where Burhan Wani was photographed along with his 10 associates, verily. Two in the photograph – Waseem Ahmed Shah and Saddam Padder belonged to Heff- Shermal, a village in the vicinity of Zainapora. After the killing of Wani, on July 8 2016, the Shopian district alone accounted for the disappearance of over 37 youths, who later went on to join various militant outfits in less than a year’s time.
The security forces established nearly five camps around the area, including Nagabal, Chillipura, Maitribugh, Zainpura besides increasing strength in existing camps in the area. The most important was the one at Chilli Pora, which is located next to the Heff-Shirmal area. This entire belt, in the coming years, would see enormous destruction of houses and civilian casualties. Dozens of boys who joined militancy were killed during encounters. Many young people from the area still languish behind bars for ‘Anti-national activities.’
“Undoubtedly, there is a fault in our stars. We have lost beyond count over the years. But the strongest love has come forth in the hardest of times. Our bond has remained unaffected over all these years. They have been targeted, we have been attacked too. I do not know why our friendship makes a story for you, but I know for sure that the conflict outside has not touched our friendship. It never will. I have seen my closest ones, including those from my near family, dying in this conflict. But this friendship has not died,” Anwar states, bidding farewell to his friend, Chaman Lal for the day.
Anwar would watch over Chaman’s family during the 90s
Shopian, surrounded by apple orchards and located in the Pirpanjal mountain range, is one of Jammu Kashmir’s highly wealthy regions. The fruit economy is the region’s main source of revenue, earning it the epithet “Apple Bowl.”
The conflict in Kashmir has not only left its indigenous people with the statistics of deaths, broken houses, or traumatic issues, it has also torn down the entire social fabric of the valley. Fear and apprehension, in addition to problems of rights, interests, identities, and resources, are at the core of the Kashmir conflict—fear of people of a different faith having a different value system that challenges one’s own, as well as anxieties of losing control or power. Fear has stymied progress toward peace because it opposes the one factor required for meaningful change – Trust.
Unconcerned and unbothered by the raging debates between Kashmiri Pandits and Muslims over social media, Anwar and Chaman meet almost every day. In the evening, Anwar lands near Chaman Lal’s house, in order to do his friendly service. “Chaman Lal cannot see. This hour or two, when we take a walk on these (now changed streets) is the only time he goes out of his house. Chaman is visually impaired. He stays indoors, otherwise,” 70-year-old Mohammed Anwar told The Kashmiriyat.
Chaman Lal is a Kashmiri Pandit, who along with five other families did not leave the valley during the 1990s when the region saw a mass migration of Pandits to Jammu. Surviving that brutal period, only a few Kashmiri pandits chose to stay back. Among them was Sri Kanth. On July 23, 2020, When a local Kashmiri pandit, Kanth Ram son of Anant Ram died, the local Muslim youth were seen ferrying firewood for helping the family to cremate the deceased, the same way, they would help any Muslims perform the last rites of their deceased.
The friendship began in the 1980s when Chaman and Anwar were young. Chaman’s father was a renowned man. He was respected by the Hindus and Muslims alike. His mother, Anwar remembers, was a woman who would often treat people with kindness and throw prayers at everyone she met. He took a keen interest in the work I did and often questioned and sought answers. He could see back then, Anwar remembers. “It was some months later that we began meeting more frequently outside his house. Back then, the questions of polarization, communalism had not reached the mental landscapes of Kashmir. Yes, I was always a five-time Nimazi like my family and his family too was a stern believer,” Anwar remembers.
Mohammed Anwar did odd jobs at Sri Kanth’s house. Chaman lost his mother at a very young age, forcing him to do the cooking job at his house on a clay stove. For several years, Chaman was going well. However, after being in contact with excessive smoke and not getting timely treatment, Chaman lost his eyesight and this was the strengthening point of their friendship.
The two take a stroll along the nearby spring, almost every day and feed the fish. They reminisce the ‘good old days’ singing Kashmiri folk songs near this spring, which remains a testimony to the fact that love can withstand all forms and measures of hate. When Kashmiri pandits were leaving the valley, Chaman Lal’s family, like thousands of other Kashmiri families was uncertain of what the future may hold. “I used to go to their house every night to watch over. I vividly remember more than fear, it was my poor jokes that kept them awake the entire night,” he said, adding, “That was not all. I also had informers elsewhere. I used to meet them every day to remain updated about the developments. But thank god, these families remained untouched during the period of 90s and afterward.”
“I remember, I was also scared. In fact, during those days being scared was a permanent state of mind. I was always scared,” said Anwar. “When I went to bed, I always wondered if I would wake up the next morning. Every morning I woke up, I left for my home promising them that he will see to their safety.”
The two visit eachother’s houses, in times of joy and grief. They want the bond to last. “We do not talk about Kashmir’s politics. Never. It is not that we do it on purpose. It just didn’t happen. Our relation, I feel, is beyond all this. Whenever he has seen agony or mourning, I have felt uncomfortable, too. He has cried time and again, but he has never said anything negative about Kashmiri Muslims,” said Anwar, with a heavy breath.
Untarnished Friendship through the years of conflict
Since 1947, India and Pakistan have locked horns over Kashmir, with no or fewer incidents of dialogue over the region. The South Asian nuclear neighbours have fought three wars, claiming the region in its entirety. The 1987’s rigged elections fanned anger and isolation among Kashmiris. Youth in droves of hundreds and thousands picked guns against the Indian rule on Kashmir. Since then, ‘the Kashmir issue’ has become inextricably tied to the greater issue of South Asian conflict and peace.
One of the most defining moments of the Kashmir conflict came when posters threatened Kashmiri pandits with a ‘ق’ in Kaafir (disbeliever) instead of a ‘ک’. The posters added to the fear of the minority community and thousands were forced to go into migration. After more than three decades of migration, the newer generation of Kashmiris engage in heated discussions, accusations and allegations mostly over social media. Some want to return to Kashmir but after “Justice has been done,” while some see the migration as a ploy of the then Governor, Jagmohan. As the newer generation of Kashmiris guards their stances, the older generation of Kashmiri Pandits have their hearts at the houses of their neighbours, in their localities, that Muslim Khanqah, that Saint’s temple.
Kashmir has been a symbol of communal harmony for centuries. It has a strong history of tolerance and moderation. Religious plurality, amity, and antipathy to the doctrinaire have long been hallmarks of Kashmir. Extremism or fundamentalism cannot and will not arise as a result of its culture.
Most of the Kashmiri Pandits who left the valley reminisce their childhood memories of playing with their friends under the shadow of the Chinar trees, by the riverside, or in the lap of snow-clad mountains. Many Kashmiri pandits, who live in different parts of India and elsewhere, have not forgotten their home, its warm, helpful and sympathetic people and the pleasant environment.
According to official figures, 219 pandits were killed in the valley before the migration of 1990. “More than 8,000 displaced people died prematurely during the first 10 years of displacement. The causes of death have been exposed to a hostile environment, snake bites, sunstrokes,” Seema Shekhawat writes in a paper on Conflict Induced Displacement in a journal on Conflict Trends in 2009.
One memory of the relation Hindus and Muslims used to share in the valley is rekindled by activist Ashima Kaul, who is the founder of Yakja (together) who narrated the tale of what happened when a hoard of Kashmiri Muslims began pelting stones at her aunt’s home. “When the crowd came closer, our Muslim neighbors formed a human chain around our house. These are the complex dynamics in Kashmir; they can’t be read as black and white,” Ashima was quoted as saying by The Wire.
In 2016, when armed Militancy saw a revival in the aftermath of the killing of Burhan Wani, hundreds of Kashmiris were killed. Anwar did attend the funerals when Kashmiris were burying their old and young, children and fathers but despite his conditions of living, Anwar has been the walking stick to his visually impaired friend ever since he lost his eyesight.
“Whenever he has to visit a doctor or some government office, he rings me up ahead of time and I reach here. I ensure I help as much as I can. There are rare days when we do not meet. But yes, on Fridays, it takes me a little longer in the mosque, so I do not come, and he respects that fact,” he stated.
“We all will be rewarded or punished for our intentions. There are many who may question this friendship, but I know my intent and I am answerable to nobody but my Allah.”
“I, initially, thought that I couldn’t mix with Chaman Lal since I belong to a different community. Whenever he found me working, he would ask questions, but I would always refuse to give answers. The turning point for us came when he lost his mother and then the friendship just kept on getting better and stronger,” Anwar says.
“When you are a pessimist and something bad happens, you live the bad thing twice. Once when you worry about it, and the secondly when it happens. I prefer optimism. We have done our service. How long will him and I live? Now it is for you to think of what to do with the Kashmir we leave after us,” Anwar walks back towards his friend’s house.
Additional reportage by Qazi Shibli