Why Valley's next generation roots for Geelani

Why Valley's next generation roots for Geelani

By Sandeep Bamzai

Kashmir is where I was born, Kashmir is what no one can take out of me, even though Kashmir has been taken out of me and away from me. It is my heritage.

The umbilical cord that binds me to the Valley is not detachable. It is invisible and yet visible. For the deepest recesses in the dark corridors of my mind reverberate with images and events that shaped my childhood. I never lived in Kashmir, I only went there every summer and spent two of the best months of every year in the Valley.

I grew up in Delhi, went to school in the rajdhani, but always had one foot planted in the Valley.
The funeral procession of a stone-thrower killed in 2010's summer of discontent.

The funeral procession of a stone-thrower killed in 2010's summer of discontent. Kashmir's youth are disillusioned because their biji-sadak-paani issues remain unadressed

Yet the feelings are strong, the emotion heavy when I recollects those pleasurable moments spent every summer. All that is in the past, I haven't visited Kashmir for close to 30 years, and yet I cannot get it out of my head and psyche. How can I? I grew up in a household obsessed with Kashmir.

As a child I was drawn into this discourse. From my grandfather to my father and my uncle, this naked obsession was stark and ubiquitous. The stories were endless about the dramatis personae who shaped the accession - Panditji, Sardar Patel, Lord Mountbatten, Karan Singh, Bakshi Ghulam Mohommed and Ghulam Mohommad Sadiq, among others.

Last weekend, a bunch of students studying mass communications at Kashmir University landed at my door. In the 22-23 age bracket, almost 30 of these reasonably smart and articulate young men and women visited our office and spent a couple of hours with me.

Restive, but quiet at first, they slowly opened up at my encouragement. I told them about their heritage, how Panditji and that true nationalist, Sheikh Abdullah, virtually plucked Kashmir from under Jinnah's nose.

I asked them whether they read a lot, I asked them whether they had paid any attention to their past, whether they had focused on their rich but controversial history.

Some said yes, others hummed and hawed. Impromptu, I took them back in time in the Wellsian Time Machine.
Syed Ali Shah Geelani is revered by Kashmir's disaffected youth

Syed Ali Shah Geelani is revered by Kashmir's disaffected youth

I asked them whether they knew that Jinnah had dropped anchor in the Valley for close to 40 days in the run-up to accession with India.

In May 1944, Jinnah tried hard to network with Kashmiri leaders, convincing them of the virtues of siding with what would eventually become Pakistan. During his lengthy stay in the Valley, he tried his utmost to seek a meeting with Sheikh Abdullah, who studiously avoided him. Sheikh Saheb was the man whom both sides wooed assiduously for he was the centrifuge that would deliver Kashmir on one or the other.

With Sheikh Saheb dodging the bullet, Jinnah was disconsolate and finally left Kashmir in a bit of a huff.

I recounted this story for the benefit of those present in my room. I reminded them of Gandhiji's celebrated visit to the Valley in the same year. Maharaja Hari Singh was recalcitrant, seeking independence from both Pakistan and India.

Lord Mountbatten and Lord Haslings Ismay (the viceroy's chief of staff) tried to reason with the maharaja, but to no avail. It was left to Gandhiji finally to work his miracle.

It is well-known that Gandhiji's car was stoned in Baramulla; it is also well-known that when Gandhiji arrived in Srinagar, the size of the procession and the cries of 'Mahatma Gandhi zindabad' were truly impressive.

Gandhiji obviously convinced Hari Singh, who fell in line and paved the way for V.P. Menon to bring back the Instrument of Accession on October 26, 1947.

Even on the morning of October 26, Jinnah tried repeatedly and even desperately to speak to Sheikh Saheb by calling at Panditji's residence, 17 York Road, but an untrusting Sheikh Saheb eluded him.

Since that fateful day, Kashmir is a story that refuses to go away from the news pages. It is a story of life and equally death. Life of a Kashmiri in the free democracy, death of the dream of a referendum that never took place though it was promised.

It is also a tale of what could have been, but the first travesty took place when the Sheikh was arrested in Gulmarg and then incarcerated.

Let me not bore you with history. Let me tell you about my interface with the Valley's youth. A collective which while replicating the intifada from the Middle East in the violent summer of 2010 had turned resistance into its most destructive face in recent memory.

I discovered to my chagrin that these young people revered the firebrand Syed Ali Shah Geelani because he stood for a particular cause. A cause which is unacceptable to India for obvious reasons. I have had a lengthy conversations with Geelani Saheb myself and I found his demand of 'azadi' completely facetious.

But the students warmed up to the conversation only after I broached his name. As I said at the outset, they were restive and the pain and anger became more evident when the Army and paramilitary forces were mentioned. It was like a dam had burst; they couldn't control their emotions.

From 'us' - Muslim and Hindu - in the same room, there was a palpable change for the worse. It became 'us' and 'them'. They railed about the 'excesses', they railed about Omar Abdullah's misrule, they railed about the lack of infrastructure and civic amenities. There was anger over misgovernance and the bijlisadak- pani inadequacies. They believe that Geelani Saheb stands for something and at least he is steadfast about his ideology, unlike the Hurriyatwallahs who don't necessarily stand for anything anymore.

It was like a two-way classroom, where while they tried to glean something from me, they offered me a peep into their collective psyche.

The interplay was fascinating for they started asking questions. Questions about India's (mind you, India's) intent, its approach towards the removal of the Armed Forces Special Powers Act, which they reckon is Draconian, the longish stint of peace and quiet in the Valley this year, and the strong yearning for lasting tranquility.

There were other posers: Why did the Pandits sell their houses? Why don't you revisit your madre vatan? When will the army pull out? Will we get better governance? There was no meeting of minds. I said the world has moved on, time will pass them by, the fruits of economic prosperity have to be absorbed by one and all and Kashmir is not an exception because it is an integral part of India.

The youth too want to move on with their lives, but only on their terms. Yes, Lt-Gen S.A. Hasnain's efforts at involving the youth paid in spades in 2011, but the yawning chasm between action and deliverables is huge.

This perpetual and real gap is what is hurting Delhi's role in the Valley. Kashmir's youth are fed up of the violence, they want to get on with their lives, but they want a set of covenants that are cast in stone. They believe in Geelani Saheb's standing as the tallest ideological leader and not necessarily in his ideology of 'azadi'.

This new generation wants improvement in the physical infrastructure of the Valley, they want jobs and education. The two teachers who accompanied the group spoke of how 2011 was a great year for academics as there were no disruptions. Maybe that is the way forward – kuch tum karo, kuch hum karein. Only then will this divide be bridged. I too yearn to kiss the turf.

Madre Vatan beckons. I too want to show my family my homeland. Kashmiri Pandits were stampeded out of the Valley, it has left their collective psyche brutalised, their memories vandalised. They are equal partners in the progress, but no one will return, the fear psychosis is overriding.

[Daily Mail, UK]