A man from Srinagar went to the airport to receive his mother returning from Hajj. Failing to see her, he enquired, only to be told that she had died and been buried in Saudi Arabia, thousands of miles away from him and her home.
Another commoner, Ghulam Ahmed choked as he said, âHow do I tell my loved ones that she (my mother) is no more? There is no way to.â What horrified him was how his sisters in Traal slept under the dark skies surrounded by guns, unaware that their mother had passed away. He buried her without her daughters, weeping at his helplessness.
âWhat would you do in Delhi if internet services were cut off for 5 minutes?â, Kashmiris are unanimously asking with their vision blurred with tears, but are receiving no answer AND only an empty lookâ¦
Five women â Annie Raja, Kawaljit Kaur, Pankhuri Zaheer from National Federation Indian Women, Poonam Kaushik from Pragatisheel Mahila Sangathan and Syeda Hameed from Muslim Womenâs Forum â with the mission to understand how the 43-day-long lockdown had affected the natives of Kashmir traversed through the many villages of Shopian, Pulwama and Bandipora districts from the 17th to the 21st of September.
Apart from spending time in what was the summer capital of the former state, they visited hospitals, schools, homes and market places speaking to people hailing from urban and rural societies encompassing their young, aged, female and male populations.
In their summarised published report, titled âWomenâs Voice: Fact-Finding Report on Kashmirâ, the team says that their findings are their âchashmdeed gawahi (eye witness account) of ordinary people who have lived for 43 days under an iron siege.â
The report states that the teamâs first visual account of Srinagar as they drove out of the airport was a deserted scene of closed shops, hotels, schools, colleges, institutes and universities.
Deserted street, men sit for a chat to relieve their loneliness
Calling it a punitive mahaul (atmosphere), they say that the picture of Kashmir that conjured before their eyes was not the populist image painted with a shikara, houseboat, lotuses and the Dal Lake. It was of women â Zubeida, Shamima, Khurshida â standing at the door of their homes waiting with unblinking eyes for their 14, 15, 17, and 19-year-old sons, their last look fixed in their memory.
âWe have been caged,â were words that echoed everywhere.
Lights Out At 8 PM
Across all villages of the four districts, people spoke of a âlights-outâ rule being imposed on them by the forces. Lights had to be turned off around 8 PM after Maghreb prayers.
In Bandipora, they saw a young girl who made the mistake of keeping a lamp lit to study for her exams hoping that her school might open soon. Eventually, Army men angered by this breach barged in and took away her father and brother for questioning.
âWhat questions?â, she didnât know and she hasnât dared to ask but her family hasnât returned since.
âWe insist the men go indoors after 6 PM. If absolutely necessary, the women go outsideâ, Zarina, from a village near Bandipora district headquarters said.
In the villages, where most toilets are placed inside the makeshift-compounds but outside living quarters, Zarina added that she couldnât even switch on her phone for light to take her little girl to the toilet, because when light is spotted, their men pay with their lives.
Privately-Owned Public Transport, A Thing Of The Past
In Jammu and Kashmir, unlike the other states of India, there are no metros or state-sanctioned buses. Private companies run the everyday-transportation within towns and cities for the public. However, ever since the lockdown, the report states that privately-owned public transportation has been reduced to a memory.
People who had private cars took them out for essential chores while women stood on roadsides, flagging cars and bikes for lifts. People stopped and helped out, the shared helplessness of both sides became the unspoken bond.
Little or no vehicles plying Healthcare Handicapped By The Communication Block
âI was on my bike going towards Awantipora when a woman flagged me. On our way ahead, my bike lurched on a speed breaker and she was thrown off. I took her to the nearby hospital but she went into a coma. I am a poor man how could I pay for her treatment? How and who could I inform?â a man cried.
At Lalla Ded Womenâs Hospital in Srinagar, several young women doctors expressed their absolute frustration at the hurdles that had been placed in their way since the abrogation of Article 370.
âThere are cases where women cannot come in time for deliveries because there are very few ambulances and the few that are running are stopped at bunkers on the way. This has resulted in several cases of overdue deliveries that produce babies with birth deformities. It is a lifelong affliction, living death for parentsâ.
Conversely, the team was told that several women were delivering babie…
