Not In My Name

zarra zarra mere kashmir kaa mehmaan nawaaz
raastoN ke pathroN ne bhii diyaa paanii mujhe

Chakbast

(Each small particle of my Kashmir is hospitable
Even the wayside stones provided water to me)

It's a familiar story. Each report of increasing tourist traffic in the Kashmir valley is greeted with asilent prayer: May it not just be a prelude to yet another incident of mindless violence. It was just lastweek that tourist arrival in the valley touched one lakh. I was trying to persuade my friends in Delhi that itwas safe to visit my land, my beloved--and bloodied--valley rather than suffer the stifling, oppressing heatof the capital. But--predictably, heart-breakingly--terror struck atthe tourist resort of Pahalgam--at around 4:15 pm on Saturday, June 12.

Around 40 tourists lazing around under a warm afternoon sun were violently reminded of the terror that sofar had only perhaps lurked somewhere in the back recesses of their minds. The exploding grenade immediatelykilled four--Danish Halwai Mustakam Halwai, from Uttar Pradesh and Bahvesh Chanderkant and his 8-year daughterNeelu, from Mumbai. While Bahvesh's wife was one of the 21 injured, the deceased Bhuvesh's 10-year old son,Ratik, finally succumbed to injuries on Sunday, June 13, taking the death-toll to five.

I do not know what prompted this ill-fated lot of tourists to visit the valley. Was it news of the touristinflux? Knowledge that even the terrorists would not target the tourists? An urge to visit the most beautifulpart of the country? Nostalgia? Reviving an old family tradition? Implorations by the kids, seduced perhaps bythe romance and adventure as depicted in films? I do not know. Heavens, I do not want to know.

What was the reason for targeting these tourists? A terrorist outfit, Al-Nasreen, has been quick to claim responsibility for the grenade attack, saying it wascarried out to "warn tourists not to visit Jammu and Kashmir". An outfit spokesman apparently told PTI on phonethat the tourists were "spreading vulgarity in the valley which they could not tolerate". I think wemust tell them what we cannot tolerate.

How specious and brutally cruel this mindless "reasoning" is does not need any elucidationbecause the truth is that it is the tourists that are the lifeblood of the valley's economy. The last decadeand a half of terror and violence has not only resulted in the cold-blooded murder of innocents, but has alsobeen responsible for the terrorists' real aim--of keeping the valley isolated from contact with visitingtourists. While the leaders live in palatial mansions with Z-plus security and the Al-Nasreen apparentlydoes not have to bother with mundane chores like earning a living, thanks to their pay-masters abroad, it isthe poor Kashmiris who have suffered--the shikara-wallahs, the houseboat-wallahs, the pony-wallahs, thepapier-mache and traditional craftspeople whose very livelihood depends on the tourists.

Spreading vulgarity? It would be vulgar and profane to the memory of those killed, not to mention futile, to address any question to this bunch of so-called Al-Nasreen, forthey are not only cowards but also brain-washed killing-machines, with hate as perhaps the only known emotion. To kill anybody--leave alone innocents andchildren--in the name of "azaadi" is not only, well, vulgar, but also an act of heart-breaking cruelty.It is cold-blooded murder, and in any civilised society we know what the punishment for murder is.

But what would they care? They are after all above any law, and haven't they and their other fellow "freedom fighters" shed the blood of many times more of their own co-religionists than that of the "kafirs"? Perhaps we would get another litany of counter-claims about the "blood ofmartyrs" and shrill, self-righteous indignation that perhaps only gets assuaged by killing innocents andchildren. The litany of hatred from the Hindu right is equally shrill when they invoke each such incident to"justify" their "revenge" in atrocities such as Gujarat. Each time I would hear this fromone, I would be comforted by at least 10 more from the same Hindu community who would be the first to denouncethis specious rationalising. And each time I would hear 1984 being invoked to justify 2002, I would cringe,knowing that there were many in my beloved valley, aided, abetted and instigated by those from across theborder, to retaliate and take revenge for the "crimes of the Indian state".

It would take too long to dwell on the real or perceived "crimes" of various parties involved andwhile any of this doesn't needany repetition and while I know that what I am writing right now is neither novel nor particularly insightful,I do feel the urgent need to reach out. It is high-time, I feel, that we, the common-people of J&K, addedour voices, spoke out and reached out to our brothers and sisters outside the valley--in India andelsewhere--yes, even in Pakistan--to join us in condemning this latest outrage unequivocally.

The only redeeming feature seems to be that at least some of the mainstream political parties and leaderslike Shabir Shah have spoken out against this latest outraging act of terror. But the common people--particularly those whohave suffered loss personally--understand the pain, the anguish, the anger, the rage that any innocent deathentails. We need to speak up. Just as I saw my friends in the rest of India and abroad, speak out wheninnocent Muslims were targeted after the dastardly, inhuman barbarity of Godhra.

Apart from the selfish motive of wanting tourists to visit the valley for the sheer sake of their livelihoodand economy, there is also the human factor. The Chief Minister was only stating the obvious when he pointed out that this brutal killing could only bethe handiwork of the enemies of the state and that it is a "conspiracy to target Kashmir's interests andits people". Each time a peace-process is initiated, each time a government is elected, each time we Kashmiris see justthe tiniest of rays of hope in the revival of the tourist-trade, a heinous, violent act of terror such asthis.is perpetrated in our names.

I have got used to the analogy with the 'Good Germans". Become immune to it. It has even stoppedirritating me, this demand from non-Kashmiri, well-meaning people to lend my voice--hadn't I lost abrother?--against the madness in J&K. I was tired, I would argue, of reiterating that I, andcountless others like me--indeed, the majority in the valley-- do not approve of any violence, but to speakout to silence those who found our silence eloquent somehow seemed so demeaningly trite. Aren't we human?Don't we feel pain at the loss of innocent lives? Aren't our discussions filled with remorse at what littlehas been done by the community at large for the Kashmiri Pundits and all those who have suffered at thismindless violence of the last few decades? But then don't we have to move on with our lives? Should we suspendall other activities and just take to condemning each and every atrocity supposedly perpetrated in our names?

I now believe that just as the ordinary people spoke out against Gujarat, because the dastardly deeds weredone in their name, it is high-time that we, the ordinary people of J&K, spoke up. In unison. We mustspeak out, shout, and scream till our voices get hoarse. I saw how almost routinely, for more than two yearsnow, almost on a daily basis, newspapers, TV channels, magazines, have had an unrelenting profusion of Hindunames and faces lamenting what happened to the innocent Muslims of Gujarat.The situation with J&K isundoubtedly not completely analogous, but I feel almost compelledto demand that we, thecommon people of the valley, have to let our voices be heard, read and registered, that don't want any bloodshed,that we do not want any killings of anybody in our name.

When writing in the backdrop of the brutal murder of tourists, perhaps this is not an opportune time to speak of starting a movement for the rehabilitation of the displaced Kashmiri Pundits, and all those whohave suffered, but in our own self-interest it is time to speak out. The risks involved are many, and there isthe fear of the gun--but the guns have to be silenced somehow. If they won't be, perhaps individually we couldbegin by trying to drown out their obscene sounds with a loud and clear scream -- not in my name.

My friends are convinced now to visit the valley before the summer is out. Meanwhile, it is time to sparemore than a moment for prayers for those who became the victims of hate in this latest "vulgar" and inhuman barbarity in Pahalgam.

Shabnam Ali, is a post-doctoral researcher who works with disadvantaged children.