From the archives: Kashmiri Pandits, living on the edge - article from 1992

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From the archives: Kashmiri Pandits, living on the edge

With Vivek Agnihotri’s ‘The Kashmir Files’ putting the spotlight back on the plight of Kashmiri Pandits, this 1992 report from INDIA TODAY documents the courage of families that had chosen to stay on in the Valley amidst the mass exodus

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Three years ago, Pushpa Dhar and her children packed their bags to leave but their Muslim neighbours pleaded with her to stay on.

 

Only yesterday they lived like one big family. Never conscious that one was a Pandit and the other a Muslim. Seven-hundred-year old tradi- tions bound them together. Pandits gave their new-born to Muslim milk mothers. Muslims always accompanied Pandit brides to their in-laws' homes and it was the Muslims who performed their last rites. In fact, for years, Kashmiri Muslims have been the custodians of all funeral grounds in the Valley. Suddenly, the AK-47s came in and shattered the peace. Pandit families fled in the dead of night, their numbers increasing as the slogan for azadi rose to a crescendo.

 

 

Now, of the "1.25 lakh Pandits who once inhabited the Valley, only 3,000 remain. Scattered over parts of Srinagar, Anantnag and Baramullah, these families have stayed on, having worked out arrangements with Muslim neighbours and the militants. Those belonging to the business community have paid money to buy their security, while some have stayed back on the strength of the reassurances given by their Muslim friends. All of them, however, are prisoners of the armed camp that the Valley has now become.

Pushpa Dhar, a widow with two daughters and a son, lives in the congested Habakadal area. Three years ago, Dhar also packed her bags to leave. Half her luggage was outside the house when her Muslim neighbours came to plead with her not to go. Her late husband's friend, AbdulRashid,whom she stillties a raakhi to, stays with them. "She is like a mother to me. How can I let her leave her home?" asks Rashid. Her daughters go to school unescorted and her son socialises freely with his Muslim friends. The Muslims, in fact, are upset that some of their Pandit neighbours left without notice. Says Mohammad Sadiq: "We would get up in the morning andfind people had left in the dead of night. It hurt very much."

The social contacts and emotional bonds remain but fear and suspicion have crept in. The powerful Ikhwan-ul-Muslimeen, reversing its stance, recently appealed to the Pandits to return. But the next day, Al Umar and Al Jehad issued press releases warning them not to return.

They have little to return to. Many Pandit houses have been ransacked, looted and gutted. Others are used as hideouts by the militants. S.K. Kaul, a former Congress(I) MLA who has lived in Kash- mir for 80 years and refuses to leave for "I can't sever my roots and leave the place of my birth", is keen to see his friends back but none of them have responded to his encouragement. Hiz- bul Mujahedin activists say they will not let anyone come back because it was not they but the then governor, Jagmohan, who told the Pandits to go and return in three months, by which time he would have improved conditions. The Pandits who fled call this false propaganda. They did, however, become victims of the Jagmohan-versus-militants stand.

Life has not been easy for them. According to a study, the Pandits, largely confined to refugee camps in Jammu, have been afflicted by ailments. Heat stroke—unknown in the Valley—has claimed 4(30 lives over the last two-and-a-half years. With tents in the camps located close to the river, 24 people have drowned; snake and scorpion bites have claimed another 12 lives. Psychological disorders such as hysteria, insomnia and suicidal tendencies have increased.

A feeling common to all the Pandits who have remained is that they are better off than their brethren living in tents and one-room tenements in Jammu. A Pandit shopkeeper revealed that he pays Rs4,000 every month to the militants, but then Muslim shopkeepers do the same. "At least I still have my house," says Mohan Lai. He has learnt to be stoical: "There is a place and time for everything." His wife, however, would prefer to join her daughters in Jammu.

Manignam, a village where only six of 50 Panditfamilies remain, is representative of the support that some militants provide to those who stayed behind. "They ask us if we need anything like rations or other supplies. We have no problem with anyone," says a villager, Dwarka Nath, who lives in Manigem with his two daughters and son. If I ever consider going to Jammu, it is only because his son, Dilip Kumai, is of marriageable age but he cannot find a Pandit girl in Kashmir. He went to Jammu to see a possible bride but the family won't send her to the Valley. "I can wait to get my son married, but what about my daughters?" he asks.

Families have also migrated because it is difficult for unemployed youth to find jobs and school-going children are scared. Says Kaul: "My grandson was shown a pistol in class. He refused to go back after that." Besides, schools are often disrupted by curfews and strikes.

Amid the tense and abnormal conditions, some positive things do exist. Members of a Muslim family in Habakadal, for example, risked their lives to protect their Pandit neighbours' property. The house was ransacked by militants and then raided by the security forces because the militants were using it as a hide-out. But the Muslim neighbours, despite threats, salvaged some household effects. One youth, choking with emotion, explained: "This is against our religion. All I remember is that the Pandit family treated me like their own son."

The Pandits in Kashmir are trapped in a dilemma. But at least they have braved the fear of the militants and have not suffered agonies over relinquishing belongings and places dear to them. A loss all the more poignant because they know that they may never return.