Telling the victim’s story
Telling the victim’s story
‘Vaadi-e-Khoonaab’ (Valley of bloodshed) is an important book which documents the life and death of over 120 unarmed persons killed during the 2010 civil uprising
On a sunny day in the summer of 2010, Ess Ahmed Pirzada was walking from Bagh-e-Mehtab area when he saw school boys blocking the road and protesting on the streets, raising their voice against the killing of seven unarmed boys killed by the government forces till then. What could he do, he asked himself, what was his contribution? And that day he decided to visit, to begin with, the families of the seven youth killed till then, collect all their details, the circumstances under which they were killed, and extensively document the lives of the unarmed youth killed during 2010 civil uprising.
The result is ‘Vaadi-e-Khoonaab’ (Valley of Bloodshed), an important book in Urdu which documents the case histories and stories of more than 120 unarmed persons killed during the 2010 civil uprising. The 460-page book begins with the death of 17-year-old student Inayatullah Khan of Dalgate, Srinagar, killed on January 8, 2010 by CRPF troopers in Lal Chowk and ends with the death of Abdul Rasheed Dar from Pulwama who succumbed to his injuries on June 11, 2012. In between, the book documents detailed case histories and life stories of more than 120 youth killed during the 2010 summer uprising.
Pirzada dedicates the book to the mothers of Kashmir, the young widows and innocent youth who lost their lives: “aun azeem mayon kay naam jinhonay apnay jigar koshun kay chaelne saenay daek kar saber ka bay-misaal muzahira kiya, aun jawaan saal baywaon kay naam jin kay hanton ke mehende bae abhi tak khushak nahe huve thee ki aun kay jivan sathi aun say chaen liyay gayay...aur aun masoom aur naunihaalun kay naam jin kay naam kay saath hamaysha hamaysha kay liyay yateem laga diya gaya....aur aus azeem threek kay naam jis nay mairay haat mai kalam thama kar mujay mayre zima dariyan yaad dilayee”
“My aim was to write from the victim’s perspective and tell their stories,” says Pirzada, a columnist and a frequent contributor to Urdu dailies. “The new generation should know what happened to people before them,” he says about the importance of such documentation work. “Tomorrow the new generation should not say that this didn’t happen here. They shouldn’t forget what has happened here before them.”
Starting from 2010, Pirzada covered 80 cases till 2011 and visited all the families of the youth killed to document their stories. The rest of the 45 cases included in the book were put together in brief stories mentioning the circumstances of their death, FIR numbers, and the agencies involved. Published by Kashmir Studies Foundation, the hardbound book, with an excellent print quality, has sold over 700 copies within a few months of its quiet release. Priced at modest Rs 200, the book also contains photographs of the victims which include six women.
During research every week Pirzada kept Sundays aside to work on the book and visited the families of the youth killed to get their side of the story. Sometimes it was hectic. Sometimes he couldn’t meet the families at their homes and had to visit them again. He says most of the civilian killings in 2010 were ‘targeted killings.’ “Most of the killings in 2010 were targeted and they were killed in cold blood,” he says. “Like in Islamabad the youth killed were not involved in any stone pelting or violence.”
During his research for the book Pirzada says he found some common characteristics among majority of unarmed youth killed in 2010. “Most of the youth killed were religious oriented and well educated,” he says. He also found that most of the youth belonged to poor families. Sometimes I thought of keeping aside the documentation work, he says, and instead help these families first because they lived in poor conditions and many of them had lost their only breadwinners. “I found only three families among the 125 cases whose economic condition was fine,” he says. “But even in such cases there were tragedies.”
A family of eight unmarried daughters living in a remote jungle area in Tangmarg lost their only son-in-law during the 2010 civilian protests. “Their only male member was killed,” says Pirzada. In another case, the baby of a youth killed in Pampore was born on the day of his chahrum. They didn’t know whether to be happy for his birth or mourn the death of his father. Another youth, Muhammad Amin, was killed in Khrew after he had dug the grave of another severely injured youth Riyaz Ahmad who died a day later in SKIMS.
While researching for the book Pirzada also found that most of the families of youth killed during the 2010 civil uprising rejected any government aid or blood money. Most of the families didn’t approach the government for aid. They didn’t want their help. Some families had not even seen the FIRs lodged. “Out of all these families only two families received some money,” says Pirzada.
He also met many mothers who, despite their loss, felt proud of their son’s sacrifice. “One mother told me that the sacrifice given by their son did what we couldn’t do for 20 years for the Kashmir struggle,” he says.
In the case of 15-year-old Tajamul of Sopore, killed when government forces opened fire on the Sopore chalo march, Pirzada says his father had initially made some case for seeking government relief. But Tajamul’s mother had a dream, his father later told Pirzada, in which his son was asking his mother: ‘tell my father, why have you sold my blood? What have I taken from you except the red shroud?’ The shroud that covered the body of Tajamul had blood stains. Tajamul’s father then dropped the idea of seeking any government aid in the name of his son.
Another family of youth Milad Ahmad was given a cheque of Rs 5 Lakh after his death. Next day, says Pirzada, his father was arrested by the police. “They asked him to share this money with the police or face arrest,” says Pirzada.
Pirzada says the families of the youth killed in 2010 also expressed their anger against the Hurriyat leadership. One family told him that many families like them were once called by the Hurriyat leaders and made to assemble in Srinagar. “They told me that they felt disrespected when Hurriyat people would tell them if it was true that their sons were innocent and asked them questions like, did they pelt stones, were they involved in violence?” he says
Pirzada says while documenting the lives of the youth killed in 2010, he found that many of them died for want of immediate medical attention and delay in reaching the hospitals in time. In Pampore, for example, he says two injured youth died on the way to the hospital as they were stopped from moving forward for a long time by the government forces. Many of the injured were also beaten up by the police and CRPF troops on their way to the hospital. “In many cases police and CRPF didn’t allow the injured youth to reach the hospital in time,” he says. “The injured youth were blocked for hours on the roads and stopped from reaching the hospitals which resulted in their death.”
Afrooza Teli, who was injured during civilian protests in Khrew, was rushed to the hospital. “But on the way the vehicle she was carried in was toppled by CRPF troops,” says Pirzada. “She died on the way because of the delay in reaching the hospital.” Another youth Khurshid Ahmad War from Kupwara, who was shot in the arm during the 2010 protests, was then beaten up by CRPF troops, says Pirzada, which resulted in his death on the way to the hospital.
There are more such heart-rending tales painstakingly documented by Pirzada in his book. For those born after 2000, says Pirzada, they didn’t know what it meant to live in Kashmir of 1990 and witness all the atrocities. For them, he says, 2008 and 2010 uprisings were important reminders of the unforgotten past.
Some memories of past also haunt Pirzada. In 1996 he remembers a crackdown in his village in Kupwara when they were assembled in one room by the army. “Me and my grandfather were in the same room and we were all stripped,” he recalls. “Till his death, I couldn’t look at my grandfather in his eye.” On another occasion, he and his father was taken away by an army search party. On the way, he says, they kept abusing us.
“More than one Lakh people have died here and we are still counting,” says Pirzada, “but we have not documented our stories the way they should have been, especially on contemporary history.”
My book, he says, is a small attempt of remembrance in that direction. “Let us not forget our stories,” he says emphatically, “we cannot afford to forget our own stories.”
(Feedback at maqbool.majid@gmail.com)
The result is ‘Vaadi-e-Khoonaab’ (Valley of Bloodshed), an important book in Urdu which documents the case histories and stories of more than 120 unarmed persons killed during the 2010 civil uprising. The 460-page book begins with the death of 17-year-old student Inayatullah Khan of Dalgate, Srinagar, killed on January 8, 2010 by CRPF troopers in Lal Chowk and ends with the death of Abdul Rasheed Dar from Pulwama who succumbed to his injuries on June 11, 2012. In between, the book documents detailed case histories and life stories of more than 120 youth killed during the 2010 summer uprising.
Pirzada dedicates the book to the mothers of Kashmir, the young widows and innocent youth who lost their lives: “aun azeem mayon kay naam jinhonay apnay jigar koshun kay chaelne saenay daek kar saber ka bay-misaal muzahira kiya, aun jawaan saal baywaon kay naam jin kay hanton ke mehende bae abhi tak khushak nahe huve thee ki aun kay jivan sathi aun say chaen liyay gayay...aur aun masoom aur naunihaalun kay naam jin kay naam kay saath hamaysha hamaysha kay liyay yateem laga diya gaya....aur aus azeem threek kay naam jis nay mairay haat mai kalam thama kar mujay mayre zima dariyan yaad dilayee”
“My aim was to write from the victim’s perspective and tell their stories,” says Pirzada, a columnist and a frequent contributor to Urdu dailies. “The new generation should know what happened to people before them,” he says about the importance of such documentation work. “Tomorrow the new generation should not say that this didn’t happen here. They shouldn’t forget what has happened here before them.”
Starting from 2010, Pirzada covered 80 cases till 2011 and visited all the families of the youth killed to document their stories. The rest of the 45 cases included in the book were put together in brief stories mentioning the circumstances of their death, FIR numbers, and the agencies involved. Published by Kashmir Studies Foundation, the hardbound book, with an excellent print quality, has sold over 700 copies within a few months of its quiet release. Priced at modest Rs 200, the book also contains photographs of the victims which include six women.
During research every week Pirzada kept Sundays aside to work on the book and visited the families of the youth killed to get their side of the story. Sometimes it was hectic. Sometimes he couldn’t meet the families at their homes and had to visit them again. He says most of the civilian killings in 2010 were ‘targeted killings.’ “Most of the killings in 2010 were targeted and they were killed in cold blood,” he says. “Like in Islamabad the youth killed were not involved in any stone pelting or violence.”
During his research for the book Pirzada says he found some common characteristics among majority of unarmed youth killed in 2010. “Most of the youth killed were religious oriented and well educated,” he says. He also found that most of the youth belonged to poor families. Sometimes I thought of keeping aside the documentation work, he says, and instead help these families first because they lived in poor conditions and many of them had lost their only breadwinners. “I found only three families among the 125 cases whose economic condition was fine,” he says. “But even in such cases there were tragedies.”
A family of eight unmarried daughters living in a remote jungle area in Tangmarg lost their only son-in-law during the 2010 civilian protests. “Their only male member was killed,” says Pirzada. In another case, the baby of a youth killed in Pampore was born on the day of his chahrum. They didn’t know whether to be happy for his birth or mourn the death of his father. Another youth, Muhammad Amin, was killed in Khrew after he had dug the grave of another severely injured youth Riyaz Ahmad who died a day later in SKIMS.
While researching for the book Pirzada also found that most of the families of youth killed during the 2010 civil uprising rejected any government aid or blood money. Most of the families didn’t approach the government for aid. They didn’t want their help. Some families had not even seen the FIRs lodged. “Out of all these families only two families received some money,” says Pirzada.
He also met many mothers who, despite their loss, felt proud of their son’s sacrifice. “One mother told me that the sacrifice given by their son did what we couldn’t do for 20 years for the Kashmir struggle,” he says.
In the case of 15-year-old Tajamul of Sopore, killed when government forces opened fire on the Sopore chalo march, Pirzada says his father had initially made some case for seeking government relief. But Tajamul’s mother had a dream, his father later told Pirzada, in which his son was asking his mother: ‘tell my father, why have you sold my blood? What have I taken from you except the red shroud?’ The shroud that covered the body of Tajamul had blood stains. Tajamul’s father then dropped the idea of seeking any government aid in the name of his son.
Another family of youth Milad Ahmad was given a cheque of Rs 5 Lakh after his death. Next day, says Pirzada, his father was arrested by the police. “They asked him to share this money with the police or face arrest,” says Pirzada.
Pirzada says the families of the youth killed in 2010 also expressed their anger against the Hurriyat leadership. One family told him that many families like them were once called by the Hurriyat leaders and made to assemble in Srinagar. “They told me that they felt disrespected when Hurriyat people would tell them if it was true that their sons were innocent and asked them questions like, did they pelt stones, were they involved in violence?” he says
Pirzada says while documenting the lives of the youth killed in 2010, he found that many of them died for want of immediate medical attention and delay in reaching the hospitals in time. In Pampore, for example, he says two injured youth died on the way to the hospital as they were stopped from moving forward for a long time by the government forces. Many of the injured were also beaten up by the police and CRPF troops on their way to the hospital. “In many cases police and CRPF didn’t allow the injured youth to reach the hospital in time,” he says. “The injured youth were blocked for hours on the roads and stopped from reaching the hospitals which resulted in their death.”
Afrooza Teli, who was injured during civilian protests in Khrew, was rushed to the hospital. “But on the way the vehicle she was carried in was toppled by CRPF troops,” says Pirzada. “She died on the way because of the delay in reaching the hospital.” Another youth Khurshid Ahmad War from Kupwara, who was shot in the arm during the 2010 protests, was then beaten up by CRPF troops, says Pirzada, which resulted in his death on the way to the hospital.
There are more such heart-rending tales painstakingly documented by Pirzada in his book. For those born after 2000, says Pirzada, they didn’t know what it meant to live in Kashmir of 1990 and witness all the atrocities. For them, he says, 2008 and 2010 uprisings were important reminders of the unforgotten past.
Some memories of past also haunt Pirzada. In 1996 he remembers a crackdown in his village in Kupwara when they were assembled in one room by the army. “Me and my grandfather were in the same room and we were all stripped,” he recalls. “Till his death, I couldn’t look at my grandfather in his eye.” On another occasion, he and his father was taken away by an army search party. On the way, he says, they kept abusing us.
“More than one Lakh people have died here and we are still counting,” says Pirzada, “but we have not documented our stories the way they should have been, especially on contemporary history.”
My book, he says, is a small attempt of remembrance in that direction. “Let us not forget our stories,” he says emphatically, “we cannot afford to forget our own stories.”
(Feedback at maqbool.majid@gmail.com)
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