Hundreds of people injured during the current unrest are fighting a lonely battle for survival, and hope – of a better future. Though in a number of cases the optimism seems to be misplaced. Ibrahim Wani reports.
The shop was near a three-way. One road lead to a nearby mohalla where some people were protesting.
Haroon, a class 12 student from Chinkipora, Sopore had started helping with the family shop – a provision store, since the school was closed.
It had kept him busy. Now, as the exams were approaching he started spending lesser time at the shop and more on studies. Occasionally, a book accompanied him to the shop.
Haroon heard gun shots and saw people running. On impulse he stood up to close the shop. This was a mistake, he realized later. He should have just run.
As he was pulling down the shutter someone collided with him and he fell down. Before he could stand up he heard more gun shots. He didn’t feel any instant pain, but could see blood oozing out. Pain would come later.
“The CRPF trooper who shot me was standing so close to me that he could have touched me,” says Haroon, as he recovers in a Srinagar hospital. The soldier pummelled three bullets into him. Haroon could feel that he was losing consciousness.
But it was after he had been shot that hell broke loose. More soldiers gathered, he said. Then as he attempted to stand up, they kicked him and started hitting him with gun butts. He could feel his teeth breaking. They hit him on back even on the spot where he had been shot. “What had I done to deserve this?” questions Haroon.
Then, he says, he was dragged for half a kilometre. He saw that two more persons had met a similar fate. The three were then bundled into a CRPF vehicle, and driven to a police station. “It was as if we were not human. All three of us where bleeding, and still they kept on cursing and hitting us,” says the 18-year old.
From the police station they were driven to the hospital, first to the sub-district then to SMHS. At SMHS, he was operated upon and put in intensive care. Out of the three bullets two have been taken out, and he awaits another operation to take out the third. He does not know what happened to the other two people.
“My date sheet is already out,” says Haroon. While all his batch mates will be appearing in board exams, Haroon will be confined to a hospital bed.
Dar Mushtaq is five years younger than Haroon. The 13-year-old from Chrar-e-Sharif is a student of class 8th. Like Haroon he too will be confined to a hospital bed, when others in his class will be sitting in their exams.
Mushtaq was shot only once, but the bullet tore through his many vital organs. “It was third Eid (Sep 13). We were in a peaceful march, to protest the desecration of holy Quran. On our way back we had to cross a CRPF camp. When we reached the place they started firing,” says Mushtaq with difficulty in speaking. He was shot in the back. He fell down instantly.
The last memory, he has of that fateful day, is of his two friends who were shot in the leg, being dragged into the camp by the CRPF. He later heard that one of them had died – not by a bullet, but of dagger wounds. He was a year younger to Dar.
Dar was taken to the hospital by his grandfather in a taxi. “He was bleeding in my arms,” says Abdul Khaliq, his grandfather, who recalls the day with horror. “When we heard that Mustaq had been shot, it was as if the world came to an end,” says the grandfather. Dar’s mother and grandmother had fainted upon hearing the news. They have not been let to see him since, and it had been around a month. “If they see him even today, I don’t think they will be able to survive the sight.”
On the day he was shot, Dar was brought to SKIMS, Soura where he was operated upon for four and a half hours. He had extensive damage to the spleen, stomach and the lungs. Half of his spleen had to be surgically removed, and his stomach was operated upon. He is to have another sugery of the lungs.
“I want to be a scientist,” say Mushtaq. He is still resolute in his aim, but he may have to drop a year of his studies. “When I will be OK, I will study hard to become a top scientist,” says Mushtaq with a faint voice. For now, he can hardly move.
“Most of the times the pain is too much for him,” says his grandfather, who has had to spend many a sleepless nights. He cannot stop his tears when the doctors come for a checkup, and his sight falls on the body of his grandchild, all stitched up. “He has to be opened up again. He is just a child,” sighs his grandfather, who has been witness to many painful sights before. “We have seen Chrar-e-sharief (shrine and village) burning,” he says, “and we survived. But living through this is much more difficult.” Mustaq was born around the same time when Chrar-e-sharief township was burnt down.
Dar says he will never be able to walk to the place where he was shot, “I cannot even think of going near to that place or to any other place which is near to a camp,” he says. His own house is only half a kilometre away from the camp. Chrar has four such camps.
What does he need most at this time? With tears in his eyes, he says, “Nothing”, he stops for a moment for he has to bear another burst of pain, “I just want to go to my mother.” But that seems unlikely for some time. A silence permeates the ward.
The bullet which hit Ashfaq will give him company throughout life. He has no other option. The bullet which brought him to the hospital, today stands between his life and death. If the bullet is taken out, he dies. The bullet is logged in his urinary bladder.
Ashfaq is 17, a high school student. A resident of Narbal, Budgam, Ashfaq was coming out of village mosque after having a bath, when he was shot by personnel of Rastriya Rifles. The sheer name invokes terror in the attendants who accompany him. “He had done nothing. As soon as they saw him, he was fired upon. As if anyone coming out of the mosque posed a danger to them,” say the attendants.
Ashfaq saw blood oozing out of him, and fell down. He hardly remembers anything afterwards but the boots of the soldiers. Then he lost consciousness.
His mother who sits by his side narrates the tragic story. Ashfaq, after he was shot, was beaten to pulp by the RR men. Later, even the relatives who had accompanied him to hospital were not spared. They were stopped, beaten and dragged. It was only after hectic pleading, that they were allowed to pass.
“They wanted him dead,” says his mother, “why else would have they shoot him, and then they also tried to stop us from reaching the hospital. Even after we shifted to the ambulance we were stopped at a number of places.”
“Just ask yourself. What will be the condition of a mother who has a son bleeding in front of her in the ambulance, and the ambulance is not being allowed to move,” she says and breaks into tears. “Now he is here and I do not know what will happen of him,” she says.
Others attendants allege that Ashfaq is just one of the cases. “Twenty seven youth have been arrested from the area and are languishing in the Budgam police station. Pleas to release them have been falling on deaf ears.”
Then there are allegations of widespread repression and brutality. “Hardly any house has a window pane left. Even women are not spared and are beaten frequently.”
In all this Ashfaq has hardly talked. The mother is worried for he hardly eats anything. He is too weak to even talk, and he whispers. “I have an exam coming up. I will not be able to sit in it. But I want to read further.”
He can never pass a metal detector, undetected. And there are many – at airports, outside government offices –with many more coming up. He may never be allowed to board a plane. May be he will explain: “Sir, you gave me a bullet, and it resides permanently in me,”
In most cases he will not be believed and made to strip. The state has given him a souvenir for life.
“Who will punish them. No one. We have no hope. But we know one thing for sure. They will be awarded medals, money and promotions. But one day they will have to stand before God, and answer. We believe and it is our faith that there will be a time, when they will get what they deserve,” says Ikhlaq Ahmad Khan’s brother.
His eyes are fixed on Ikhlaq, 19, the youngest of three brothers. He lies on a hospital bed, sans a kidney. They hail from Tangmarg.
Ikhlaq is a first year student in Amar Singh college. The last time he went to college, he could walk, talk, read, write, play, and most importantly had both kidneys. He was shot on September 13, when he was coming home, after he had gone out to the market.
“The soldier who shot me was just standing in front of me. I was not protesting. Was just walking home,” says Ikhlaq Ahmad, in a feeble voice.
He had fallen subconscious at the very instant and regained consciousness in the hospital, after an operation. He now had only one kidney.
The family came to know of the incident mush later. “We reached the hospital (SMHS) at 9.00 pm. By then he had been already operated upon and was in intensive care,” says his brother, who has just returned from Aligarh Muslim University after completing his post graduation.
Ikhlaq does not understand why he was shot. He or his family sees no reason into it.
The family is devastated. One of his brothers sits at his feet, while other tends to him. “When they shot Ikhlaq, they did not just shoot him. They shot all of us. They did not shoot just one person. They shot the whole family. All of us are injured. This wound will never heal,” says the elder brother.
When his mother visited the hospital, she could not stand the sight of her injured son. “She kept weeping. Even our father wept,” say the brothers, who had seen their father weeping for the first time. No one from the government has visited Ikhlaq, and they know no one will. No case has been registered against those who shot him.
Ikhlaq wants to be a KAS officer. He will still try for it, he says, when he will be able to, but he knows that he will have to skip exams this year. Life may go on for Ikhlaq and his family. But Ikhlaq will never forget one thing, “I have been deprived of an organ for as long as I live.”
Aabid Mushtaq, 14, is a student of class 9th. On September 29, the government had announced that there would be no curfew, and the students were directed to attend schools. Aabid went out in the morning to see that if there was any sort of activity
in their area. He thought that if he saw some school buses on the road, it would imply that the schools would be open. There were no protests in the area.
A group of CRPF personnel pounced upon Aabid, just 200 meters away from his home. He was beaten up. And then something completely unexpected happened. “Some held my arms. Then one of them took out a Guleel (Sling), and a marble,” says the young teenager. The marble smashed his left eye. Pain ran through his body and he screamed as hard as he could.
After a two-hour surgery at the SMHS hospital, Aabid was brought out of the operation theatre. He had lost his left eye.
Aabid’s father is a carpet weaver. He had allowed him to attend the school since he had heard that there was no curfew or hartal.
Aabid had shown his identity card to the CRPF men, but they did not honour it. Aabid says that they told him that Kashmiri students need not attend schools. “You are following the calendar issued by Geelani. When you didn’t go to school for past two days, what is the need to go today,” the troopers said to him.
According to a doctor in SMHS, around 20 people most of them youngsters, have lost one eye to pellets and marbles, and more than 60 have been operated. “What is most unfortunate is that most of these people are young, school going children, who have been handicapped for life. In most cases nothing can be done to restore their eye. Nothing, not even transplants,” he says.
Eye blinding was widely used in the Roman and the Byzantine period on the revolting peasants and occupied people. The punishment was also common for black slaves in the Americas. But hardly ever has blinding of children been reported in the history.
There is only one similarity between Aabid Mushtaq and Farooq Ahmad Ahangar. Both were injured for the intention of going to school. But Farooq Ahmad is not a student. He is a parent, who was taking his five-year-old son to school.
Farooq, a resident of Jogi Lanker, Rainawari had come out of his house only after the state government had announced that there would be no curfew, and students should head to schools. A mechanic by profession, he wanted a better life for his son, and considers education as the only means.
But as soon as he came out of the house, a group of CRPF personnel pounced on him. His son managed to run back. They kicked, slapped and punched him. He went unconscious when a cane hit him on the head.
He was unconscious for four hours. His son Abid, is under shock, and did not venture out of his house for four days. Farooq received 20 stitches on his head, but was lucky to escape serious internal injury. His attendants say that life has been hell for them in these 4 months. “The CRPF has broken all the glass panes. Without any provocation, they fire marbles to break the glasses. Even when relaxation in curfew is announced, the “brutality continues”. We cannot even get medicines and baby food,” says Mohammad Ashraf, a neighbour who had accompanied Farooq, while displaying the marbles used by the CRPF.
You must understand one thing. Be it bullets, pellets, marbles or laser weapons. All are meant to cause harm. All are anti-human, says Tanvir Guroo of Drangbal, Baramulla. Both his legs are bandaged and it will be months before he will be able to walk. For all practical reasons, he thinks that he is handicapped. Doctors have told him it will take him at least a year to be able to stand up on his feet.
The 24-year-old is the lone breadwinner of the family. His father passed away in 2007, and since then he has been supporting the family by operating a mobile repair shop. He has to provide for three sisters and a mother. Now how would his family make ends meet, he does not know.
He recalls the day when he was shot. “A green flag had been raised on one of the mobile towers. Soldiers from the 46 RR, climbed the tower and brought the green flag down,” says Tanvir. This is what triggered the protests.
“People started protesting, and even threw onions and potatoes on the soldiers,” says Tanvir. He was closing his shop when he saw soldiers entering the street. Even though people were protesting elsewhere, the street was peaceful. “Then they started firing. I could even see their faces, they were so close,” he says.
Tanvir was shot thrice from close range. He was hit on both the legs. “The bullets cut across my Femural vein,” he says. He has been in the hospital since then, confined to the bed. He recently had another operation, a plastic surgery wherein a vein was removed from his right leg, to reconstruct the Femural in the left.
While Tanvir hopes to walk one day, the chances seem bleak for Mehraj-ud-din Malla, a 27-year-old labourer hailing from Tarzoa Sopore. He has been admitted in the hospital for 100 days now.
Mehraj was shot twice on his right leg. He too is the only breadwinner in his family. “A portion of my bone fell right there on the road,” says Mehraj adding, “I was lucky to survive. Two people died on the spot.”
“Now they say that it will take me two years to walk,” but he is pessimistic. All along he has been given assurances of recovery . Surgery after surgery, his hopes were raised only to be dashed again. He has already been operated upon six times.
Like Mehraj, Irshad ahmad Mir, 18, is also a labourer. A resident of Nillah Pattan, Mir was shot in the left leg. “I was sitting near a shop and a peaceful protest march was going on. CRPF and police arrived on the scene and they started shooting. Fifteen people including me received bullet injuries,” he says.
He was beaten even after being fired upon. His father and brothers were also beaten when he was being taken to the hospital. Since then he has spent a month in hospital. He has had to undergo four operations, two in Bone and Joints hospital and two in SKIMS. He has to undergo one more operation. “The doctors say that it will take me more than a year to walk,” he says.
Similar is the case of Aamir Ahmad of Urpura, Nagbal in Shopian. The 18-year-old Class 12th student at Government Boys Higher secondary school, Shopian was shot on his right leg on October 2 during a protest.
“We had come out to protest after RR had picked up 18 boys in the morning during a crackdown. The protest was fully peaceful, and they started firing. I was almost face to face with the person who fired on me,” he says. Aamir received 3 bullets in his leg, “It was a burst fire.” He has already had one operation and will have more. “In the incident two more received bullet injuries. One among them was a woman,” he says.
What Aamir came to know from people the next day was more painful. “It had been alleged that there was firing from within the crowd first, which was utterly baseless. We were protesting right after the crackdown. If there would have been any person with a weapon, would they have let him go,” says Aamir. “They just try to come up with reasons. They fired on a peaceful crowd.”
Aamir’s brother, a B.Ed student, says that they have been constantly victimized. “The RR goes into the orchards and damages the produce. There is hardly any house left in our village with glass panes.”
Ghulam Mohidin Lone is 60 years old. He lays a cripple on a bed in the Bone and Joints hospital in Srinagar. The Singhpora Pattan resident would tend to farm animals and lends a hand in family’s day to day chores.
His fault, he does not know. “We heard stories that soldiers were barging into people’s homes, breaking everything and beating everyone whom they could lay hands on,” says his niece. “We asked him to leave the house and seek refuge in another village which had been comparatively peaceful. But before he could leave they spotted him and pounced on him like anything.”
Mohidin was severely beaten with a cane. They had no respect for his age. He pleaded for mercy, got none. And then, adding to his misery, he could not reach a hospital for 10 days. “They did not allow us to take him to the hospital,” says his niece. All the while he writhed with pain at his home, with hardly any medicine or medical care. “Everyday we would plead with the soldiers to let us take him to the hospital, but to no avail.”
When he was finally brought to the hospital, multiple fractures were detected. He now awaits an operation on his leg. His niece does not know whether he will ever walk again.
There have been various reports of the number of people injured since June. While as the government puts the number at 534, the hospital records suggest the number to be more than 2500. The injuries in Kashmir range from bullets injuries to those inflicted by pellets and marbles, referred to as non-lethal weapons. But these weapons too have caused grievous injuries, mostly eye injuries in which many victims have lost their eyes.
Muhammad Subhan Lone of Soura, a teenager, suffered injury in the spleen, multiple perforations in small gut, stomach, left kidney, besides lung injuries, due to pellets. In another case, Asif Ahmed of Buchpora suffered injury to his kidneys, left lung and large intestines.
The injured are mostly below 25 years of age, with a majority being below 20. There are cases which are even younger than 15. Most of them have upcoming exams, according to the date sheets announced by the JKBOSE and KU. But there is no concern on the part of the authorities for these students.
Some injured have been approached with monetary aid by administration, which in most cases has been rejected by the families.
