Srinagar, April 29: Women candidates have made their presence felt in the ongoing 16-phase Panchayat Polls by emerging as neck to neck competitors to their male counterparts. According to the result sheet of Kupwara district prepared by State electoral department, out of 430 Sarpanch seats, 146 have been pocketed by women including some young faces.
Almost every panchayat constituency of the blocks, that went to polls on April 13 in the first phase, there are at least three women out of ten winning candidates.
In Nutnoosa (A) there were 10 Sarpanch seats. Seven were bagged by male candidates and three by women. Similarly, in Trich (81), of the seven Sarpanch seats, three were won by female candidates and four by males. The results of other areas like Gudnosa, Payerpora,Zangli, Batpora, Gutlipora, Arampora, Hatmulla, Drugmulla are also on similar lines.
Minister for Rural Development and Panchayats, Ali Muhammad Sagar said it was a good sign that women have emerged as a force.
The women candidates, Sagar said, seem to have cashed in on the 33 per cent reservation meant for them in panchayats.
“They will have to shoulder bigger responsibility and take the democracy to grass-root level,” the minister said.
He said in 2001-02, panchayat elections were held partially. “It was in 1972 when elections were held in real sense so the present elections are being held after three decades,” Sagar said.
Upbeat over the development, President Women’s Wing of ruling National Conference, Shameema Firdous said women have proved their mettle. “Now it is the duty of the government to recognize the performance of women folk.”
Firdous said the women who have emerged victorious will have to work for justice and overall empowerment of the community.
“More women candidates in the field mean less dependency on men. We will form mini-governments in the villages and resolve issues facing women on priority basis,” she said.
Firdous said it was the result of hectic efforts by party workers that a good number of women have come to fore in the polls.
Mahila Congress president for J&K, Indu Pawar said the development was an indication that women want to contribute towards society.
“They have pledged to compete with men on all fronts and to prove their mettle. They should know that their responsibility is much bigger than their win,” she said.
The State electoral department has prepared the results of two phases so far. Rising Kashmir will come up with more stories on the successful women candidates.
In Nutnoosa (A) there were 10 Sarpanch seats. Seven were bagged by male candidates and three by women. Similarly, in Trich (81), of the seven Sarpanch seats, three were won by female candidates and four by males. The results of other areas like Gudnosa, Payerpora,Zangli, Batpora, Gutlipora, Arampora, Hatmulla, Drugmulla are also on similar lines.
Minister for Rural Development and Panchayats, Ali Muhammad Sagar said it was a good sign that women have emerged as a force.
The women candidates, Sagar said, seem to have cashed in on the 33 per cent reservation meant for them in panchayats.
“They will have to shoulder bigger responsibility and take the democracy to grass-root level,” the minister said.
He said in 2001-02, panchayat elections were held partially. “It was in 1972 when elections were held in real sense so the present elections are being held after three decades,” Sagar said.
Upbeat over the development, President Women’s Wing of ruling National Conference, Shameema Firdous said women have proved their mettle. “Now it is the duty of the government to recognize the performance of women folk.”
Firdous said the women who have emerged victorious will have to work for justice and overall empowerment of the community.
“More women candidates in the field mean less dependency on men. We will form mini-governments in the villages and resolve issues facing women on priority basis,” she said.
Firdous said it was the result of hectic efforts by party workers that a good number of women have come to fore in the polls.
Mahila Congress president for J&K, Indu Pawar said the development was an indication that women want to contribute towards society.
“They have pledged to compete with men on all fronts and to prove their mettle. They should know that their responsibility is much bigger than their win,” she said.
The State electoral department has prepared the results of two phases so far. Rising Kashmir will come up with more stories on the successful women candidates.
A bomb blast has been reported by one of our website fan in Gulpur Camp of Pakistan arm and hour ago. The time of blast has been reported is 11:30. Gulpur camp is located in Kotli Districit of Azadkashmir. Details of damage and casualties has not been yet reported as no civilian is allowed to enter the camp. This is first ever bomb blast in Kotli. Its possibly an accident in army camp as there has not been any terrorism activity in AJK before. Lets hope its an accident and there are no casualties in this accident.
Gulmarg, April 25: In a landmark development to attract international tourists to the state with latest technological advancements, from J&K State Cable Car Corporation (JKCCC) and Gulmarg Development Authority in collaboration with Directorate of Information Technology and Support System (IT&SS), University of Kashmir and Department of Tourism, Government of J&K have installed internet facility through Wi-Fi at the world-famous Gulmarg Ski resort.
The project spread over more than 5 square kilometres covers the whole area of Gulmarg bowl including Kongdoori and Apharwat hill-tops was conceived, designed and implemented by the Network Design Team from Directorate of Information Technology and Support System (IT & SS), University of Kashmir with bandwidth being provided by Software Technology Park of India (STPI).
The Directorate of IT&SS completed the project in a record time of 4 months. The efforts of the team were applauded by the Chief Minister, who himself tested the Wi-Fi broadband connectivity speed at Gulmarg and even conceded that the speed was so far the best he had seen in the State.
The KU-GULMARG Wi-Fi network is regarded as one of the highest Wi-Fi zones in the world at an altitude of 4120 meters above sea level and the devices used have been designed with lightening protection which can withstand temperatures as low as -40 degrees Celsius and heavy snow-storms. Besides earning revenue for its maintenance and up-gradation, the network will provide round the clock state-of-art internet connectivity to the thousands of tourists thronging the place for skiing and other sports enabling them to be connected to the outside world at all times.
The Directorate of IT&SS completed the project in a record time of 4 months. The efforts of the team were applauded by the Chief Minister, who himself tested the Wi-Fi broadband connectivity speed at Gulmarg and even conceded that the speed was so far the best he had seen in the State.
The KU-GULMARG Wi-Fi network is regarded as one of the highest Wi-Fi zones in the world at an altitude of 4120 meters above sea level and the devices used have been designed with lightening protection which can withstand temperatures as low as -40 degrees Celsius and heavy snow-storms. Besides earning revenue for its maintenance and up-gradation, the network will provide round the clock state-of-art internet connectivity to the thousands of tourists thronging the place for skiing and other sports enabling them to be connected to the outside world at all times.
ENVIRONMENT BY FIDA IQBA
British representative Francis Younghusband in his book ‘Kashmir’, narrates about splendor of Dal Lake. Francis writes, “The Dal Lake, with the canal leading into it, and the various gardens on its shores, is one of the chief attractions of the neighborhood of Srinagar. It is always lovely, but perhaps at no season more beautiful than early May------- The water is so still and so clear that the reflections of surrounding mountains are seen as in the most polished mirror. The reflected mountain is as sharp and distinct as the mountain itself. The luxuriant plant growth from the bottom and the numerous fishes are seen as in clear air”. Many other travelers and visitors to Kashmir have drawn a majestic picture of Kashmir and Dal in their travelogues, notes and books. But, Younghusband has portrayed the majesty and natural state of Dal in a splendid way and in very a few lines.
After more than hundred years of stride towards empowerment, progress and transformation, presently Dal stands no where near the benchmark of attractiveness as visualized by Francis Younghusband in the year1908. Existing Dal has not only shrunk in area and physical health but its charm and majesty has all vanished. First half of the twentieth century experienced very little degradation of Dal Lake, but post 1947 era and aura of emancipation did not suit well to ‘Dal’. So, it started its journey of dissolution towards death, a death brought by its own people, who would otherwise derive part of their earnings, pleasure and wellbeing from the magnificent waters of this Lake. After independence, materialist devil within the people was the first to enjoy its freedom and plunder on ecological wealth of lakes, waterways, pastures and attention-grabbing environs of the valley. With support from neo- political order and materialist elite this perpetual environmental loot has by now mount into huge quantities of ecological plunder. ‘Dal’ as most prominent environmental structure of Kashmir faced much of the vandalistic brunt.
After extensive damage to Dal and its environ; gradual extinction of flora and fauna in its vicinity, state and federal governments came out of deep slumber to save and restore the pristine glory of this world famous water body. A multi pronged strategy of restoration and conservation of Dal Lake was devised under the aegis of environment ministry giving shape to ‘Dal Development Authority’. Many plans and strategies were put into action by this authority, but practically did almost nothing on ground to address the root cause of Dal decay. The superficial measures of Dal conservation instead of improving its health and life pushed Dal into the oblivions of apathy and cycle of corruption. Over the period of time Dal development authority soon turned into a money spinning agency; encouraging its masters to broaden its contours of corruption and pillage by metamorphosing into ‘Lakes and waterways development authority’ (LAWDA). With vast area of operation, enormous patronage and huge funding from the central government and substantial allocation out of state budget, LAWDA was supposed to deliver wonders but got off the hinges. This conversion led to burial of all earlier carcass of deception. Unfortunately, a project of national importance and interest was suffocated with unbridled corruption and left to die its own steady death. For last more than a decade LAWDA is running this project with all fresh assurances of revival with every passing financial year, but on ground they seem to have conceived a novel idea to showcase the Dal. They have practically caged the remains of Dal with several of its obituaries embedded on its shores, passed on as foundation stones and commemorative plaques.
Dal is dying! It is a fact now. From earlier indigenous dredging and weed harvesting to modern imported dredging cum weed harvesting machines, Dal responds to none. Why? From the day one every effort and step towards Dal conservation was laden with loads of nepotism and corrupt mindset. The people who created a chaotic environmental situation out of once stunning Dal after inception of ‘Awami Raj’ turned Dal development into a lucrative business of minting money and wielding clout. Dal has reduced not only in size but its existing shrinking area is fast turning into a cesspool of filth, waste and other residual material. Its catchment area on all sides is devoid of any vegetative cover and plantation, a prerequisite for continuous recharging and sustenance of any active water body. Instead of vegetation and plantation its catchment area is growing concrete jungle of human habitations. This process has not come about overnight, but has flourished under the nose of regulatory authorities, LAWDA being one of them and the prominent one. For last two decades the whole landscape on the peripheries of Dal Lake has changed enormously, but for the worst and LAWDA has failed over and over to check this defacement. To boast regarding achievements and beating the `Clean Dal' drum is nothing but rhetoric. Mowing terminal parts of Dal weeds and stirring polluted and putrefied waters of Dal with mechanical aerators is nothing but superficial acts of deception and fraud. It is Kashmir's natural beauty; location of Dal and its ambiance that is playing its role in hiding our follies, otherwise the ugly face of Dal is staring starkly on our face.
No one can deny the efforts of many people within the Dal restoring agencies, but either they were knowingly sidelined or their faulty strategy could not yield the desired results (as desired by the nation, not by the political oligarchy of plunderers and swindlers). Over the period of time many sincere but inexperienced technocrats and so-called marine science specialists turned Dal into a laboratory for trying their random methods of conservation and improving biodiversity features of the Lake. From age-old manual de-weeding to mechanical measures and flip-flop to square one is simple hit and trial method and people can not afford this fiddling with its precious assets of enormous environmental significance? Plan of relocating Dal dewellers to far off flood catering basin of ‘Rakhe Arath’ is nothing but ‘Asmaan se gira Khajoor ma atka’. We are losing Dal and now we will be losing a precious and much needed flood water basin. A simple social audit and evaluation of planning and execution procedures of Dal conservation program by a layperson can lead us to many skeletons of ill-conceived projects left either halfway or abandoned after flawed completion. It is amazing! For the last more than a decade LAWDA is unable to plug few main trunk sewers and other drains emptying into Dal. Many of their STPs (Sewerage Treatment Plant) are either nonfunctional due to incompletion of feeding sewers pipeline or do not function as per the standing procedures of operation. A cursory look on the achievements of LAWDA, particularly in the interiors of Dal will reveal the factual position. And nation must know.
The biggest paradox of Dal conservation agenda of our agencies is their approach and strategy. They treat Dal exclusively a physical problem and are trying to restore it with steel and concrete. Whereas, Dal is an ecological tragedy with few patches of physical degradation and can be restored only with an eco-friendly regimen of restoring its biodiversity, fragile environs and above all ensuring curb on any future brute intervention into the Lake system by invoking both legal and administrative provisions.
They have silenced you the same way as they silenced many before
Dear Showkat Sahib,
I never wrote to you when you were alive. Yet in your anonymous assassination, I could not resist the temptation to write to you. My brother Bilal called me and told me you had been attacked. I made a few calls to find out more details. You didn’t make it this time. I was shocked and paced about in my room. Showkat Sahib, this is Kashmir. We are immune to pain and bloodshed. I brooded for some time and then tried to go along with my routine work. Hard as I tried to not think about you, your image of long flowing beard, thin disposition, sharp features, refused to let go off me. After a few hours I went out into my garden. Wistfully I walked around. The sun was going down and a sad haze had enveloped the skies. I gazed into the hazy hollowness of the skies, as the moroseness of the hills seemed to have cast a melancholic spell of mourning in the air. Yes, I believe- in bloodied Kashmir nature broods, cries, mourns, when a son of the soil is devoured. An uneasy feeling gripped me. One more gone, some more to go I said to myself, as I knelt and sat down in the garden. I bent my knees, brought down my head to the knees, burying it into my knees. Tears trickled down my cheeks and I began to cry. I will be honest with you Showkat Sahib. I was not crying for you. I was crying for my father. Every time a political leader is assassinated in any part of the world, my father dies again, the pain and helplessness surfaces ever again. I imagined scenes at your home, replete with helplessness, the mourning, the crying and in the process revisited the scenes at my home when my father died. Every such death reminds me that I had a father who was killed and makes me feel guilty of being a helpless bystander as the murderers wander free. The kin of those killed in the conflict in Kashmir are a creed apart- an extended family who may not know each other and cutting across barriers of age, gender, regions, caste are connected by a common bond of pain and helplessness. I call them, the mourners. With a heavy heart I welcome your children to this ever growing family of mourners. They are now a part of this family. From Mirwaiz Umar who joined this family at the tender age of sixteen to your son, this family is just growing. A growth we all could do without. How I wish your children had not joined this mourning family, how I wish no child becomes a part of this ill-fated family but destiny has set designs.
I am yet to visit your house. But any member of the family of mourners can with great precision conjure up the imagery of the mourning at your home. It takes a mourner to feel the pain of a fellow mourner. Wailing wife, sobbing daughters, sons desperately blocking the flood of tears, receiving the streams of people; Oh! you have an aged mother too and that multiplies the pain. What a strange confluence of ostensibly disparate, but actually coherent emotions? Sons and daughters mourning a father, mother mourning a son, brother mourning a brother and wife mourning a husband.
After your death officials of the J & K Police, visited me and many others. This is a routine visit whenever someone is killed. They come, advise and go, and wait for the next killing to come again. I was asked me to be careful. As they left- in wonderment I leaned back into the sofa, and the thought raced in my mind- will I also be killed? I went into a trance imagining me traveling in a car. At a traffic signal, two people quietly walk up to me and shoot me and kill me. The picture of the two assassins is retained in my eyes even after my death. I know them but can’t place them. My bullet ridden body is taken to my home. It is placed in the garden at the same place where my father’s bullet ridden body was placed a few years back. My body is surrounded by noisy mourners. Among the women mourners, I see my inconsolable mother. I go into a sub trance and make a quick prayer to Allah- “If this is to happen take away my mother before me”. Please Allah do not torture and burden her with the reception of one more bullet ridden body”. Members of my family, neighbours, acquaintances are all there spread in sad groups, murmuring. There is a steady stream of people and new entrants go near the crowd around my dead body lean on their toes to have a view of the face. Most of them would sigh, “oh oh oh hai hai hai” in Kashmiri language. I overheard one saying,” oh he has a young family”. I started searching for my two minor sons. They were not in the crowd. My trance led me to, what used to be my bedroom. My children were there- with Bilal's daughters, who seemed to be at a loss whether to comfort the young souls or mourn their uncle. They were having a hard time answering innocent queries- “who killed Baba? Why they killed him? Will he be going to Dadu? When will he come back? Who will get us toys? Showkat Sahib the sight of two young fatherless children stunned me and even in my dead state, I thought to myself- WHY ? My trance meanwhile went back to the mourners. It was decision time, where to bury me. Bilal and some friends were deciding where to bury me. Idgah suggested one of the mourners. “No, that can’t happen”, said another mourner- “He has fought elections”. They confabulated and finally Bilal suggested that Sajad will be buried at the ancestral graveyard in Dard Harrai, Kupwara. Leaving the house was a very emotional moment. I cried in my death, started missing my moments of innocence, my childhood and yes my children were there on my mind. Who will look after them? I prayed to Allah for one chance to hold my children in the tightest embrace, stroke their hair, cup their delicate faces in my hands and take one last and long look at them. It was not to be, I was dead, my time had been cruelly snatched and I left the world a sad man, worried about my young children, feeling insecure about them in the absence of the protective affection of a father. I rued the day I joined politics, I rued the day the day I was outspoken, but the die had been cast.
Showkat Sahib I was there, I could see everything but nobody could see me. It seems my soul was there in pain, consumed with anger for being killed for no fault of mine, making my children fatherless. All the prominent leaders turned up at the burial site. They all delivered speeches and showered great praises on me. I saw one leader making a passionate speech and something bizarre struck me. The two boys who shot me often used to accompany this particular leader. Doubts started to arise in my mind. But I was overwhelmed by the emotionality of the burial site- familiar faces of party workers in a sad frenzy raising a din of futile slogans.
My trance shifted to my residence the following morning. People came there to offer condolences. Bilal was receiving the mourners. At a regular frequency fateha would be offered. My restless soul was watching. And then hell broke loose. Two young men came in. They were particularly distraught and hugged my brother Bilal and cried. I ran towards them peering into their face. I was shocked with disbelief. They were the ones who shot me. I tried shaking Bilal, shouted, cried and winced in pain, ”these are the boys who shot me. What are they doing here” Shorn of my physicality I was now a weightless, formless and invisible soul- a transcendental wanderer in pain. No one could hear me or see me, but I had to bear the torture of seeing everything. One of the damn fellows’ had the audacity to get up and deliver a mourning speech. The damn fellow broke down twice while delivering the speech. Showkat Sahib the pain of two murderers coming to pay condolences was far greater than the pain of being murdered.
I came out of my trance and was shaken. I went to bed thinking about you, the abruptness of your death, the last moments of your life, the sound of the blast, and its physical impact on your body and the dawning of that moment, when you knew that they had got you and your possible thoughts in those last moments. In the morning I saw the newspapers. Your photo was prominently displayed. I touched your face on the paper and moved my fingers across your face and stared affectionately at you and then my eyes shifted to the photo of the Jinazah. Thousands and thousands of people packed into Lal Chowk. I smiled. Death is an eternal reality. Showkat Sahib we all have to die one day. But in death, in pain, in being abruptly separated from your loved ones, in all the travails forced upon your family, the day still belonged to you. Few are lucky to have such a heroic farewell. Every adversity poses a new challenge. In this battle you have won the first round. You sacrificed your life for saying what you believed in. The onus of success or failure of subsequent rounds falls on us, the nation for which you sacrificed your life. If the murderer has the liberty to roam free and mourn you, Showkat Sahib, they win. If we are able to uphold the dignity of your sacrifices and disallow the liberticidal goons of murdering and mourning, we win, you win. My trance is a fiction, but fact is no pleasant. This is Kashmir and fiction overlaps with reality. A tiny lunatic fringe with castrated mental faculties, nourishing a supercilious contempt and disdain for liberties, for realism have taken upon themselves to rid Kashmir of what their delusions qualify as wrongs, and these cowards believe in the power of anonymous violence in silencing the voice of masses. Irrespective of our win or loss you will remain my icon for daring to say what you believed in. You are my Kashmiri hero. May Allah bless your family and may the heroic farewell inspire others to lead.
(Sajad Lone is Chairman People's Conference can be reached at lone.sajad@gmail.com)
Facebook Page: http://www.facebook.com/SAJJAD.LONE
I never wrote to you when you were alive. Yet in your anonymous assassination, I could not resist the temptation to write to you. My brother Bilal called me and told me you had been attacked. I made a few calls to find out more details. You didn’t make it this time. I was shocked and paced about in my room. Showkat Sahib, this is Kashmir. We are immune to pain and bloodshed. I brooded for some time and then tried to go along with my routine work. Hard as I tried to not think about you, your image of long flowing beard, thin disposition, sharp features, refused to let go off me. After a few hours I went out into my garden. Wistfully I walked around. The sun was going down and a sad haze had enveloped the skies. I gazed into the hazy hollowness of the skies, as the moroseness of the hills seemed to have cast a melancholic spell of mourning in the air. Yes, I believe- in bloodied Kashmir nature broods, cries, mourns, when a son of the soil is devoured. An uneasy feeling gripped me. One more gone, some more to go I said to myself, as I knelt and sat down in the garden. I bent my knees, brought down my head to the knees, burying it into my knees. Tears trickled down my cheeks and I began to cry. I will be honest with you Showkat Sahib. I was not crying for you. I was crying for my father. Every time a political leader is assassinated in any part of the world, my father dies again, the pain and helplessness surfaces ever again. I imagined scenes at your home, replete with helplessness, the mourning, the crying and in the process revisited the scenes at my home when my father died. Every such death reminds me that I had a father who was killed and makes me feel guilty of being a helpless bystander as the murderers wander free. The kin of those killed in the conflict in Kashmir are a creed apart- an extended family who may not know each other and cutting across barriers of age, gender, regions, caste are connected by a common bond of pain and helplessness. I call them, the mourners. With a heavy heart I welcome your children to this ever growing family of mourners. They are now a part of this family. From Mirwaiz Umar who joined this family at the tender age of sixteen to your son, this family is just growing. A growth we all could do without. How I wish your children had not joined this mourning family, how I wish no child becomes a part of this ill-fated family but destiny has set designs.
I am yet to visit your house. But any member of the family of mourners can with great precision conjure up the imagery of the mourning at your home. It takes a mourner to feel the pain of a fellow mourner. Wailing wife, sobbing daughters, sons desperately blocking the flood of tears, receiving the streams of people; Oh! you have an aged mother too and that multiplies the pain. What a strange confluence of ostensibly disparate, but actually coherent emotions? Sons and daughters mourning a father, mother mourning a son, brother mourning a brother and wife mourning a husband.
After your death officials of the J & K Police, visited me and many others. This is a routine visit whenever someone is killed. They come, advise and go, and wait for the next killing to come again. I was asked me to be careful. As they left- in wonderment I leaned back into the sofa, and the thought raced in my mind- will I also be killed? I went into a trance imagining me traveling in a car. At a traffic signal, two people quietly walk up to me and shoot me and kill me. The picture of the two assassins is retained in my eyes even after my death. I know them but can’t place them. My bullet ridden body is taken to my home. It is placed in the garden at the same place where my father’s bullet ridden body was placed a few years back. My body is surrounded by noisy mourners. Among the women mourners, I see my inconsolable mother. I go into a sub trance and make a quick prayer to Allah- “If this is to happen take away my mother before me”. Please Allah do not torture and burden her with the reception of one more bullet ridden body”. Members of my family, neighbours, acquaintances are all there spread in sad groups, murmuring. There is a steady stream of people and new entrants go near the crowd around my dead body lean on their toes to have a view of the face. Most of them would sigh, “oh oh oh hai hai hai” in Kashmiri language. I overheard one saying,” oh he has a young family”. I started searching for my two minor sons. They were not in the crowd. My trance led me to, what used to be my bedroom. My children were there- with Bilal's daughters, who seemed to be at a loss whether to comfort the young souls or mourn their uncle. They were having a hard time answering innocent queries- “who killed Baba? Why they killed him? Will he be going to Dadu? When will he come back? Who will get us toys? Showkat Sahib the sight of two young fatherless children stunned me and even in my dead state, I thought to myself- WHY ? My trance meanwhile went back to the mourners. It was decision time, where to bury me. Bilal and some friends were deciding where to bury me. Idgah suggested one of the mourners. “No, that can’t happen”, said another mourner- “He has fought elections”. They confabulated and finally Bilal suggested that Sajad will be buried at the ancestral graveyard in Dard Harrai, Kupwara. Leaving the house was a very emotional moment. I cried in my death, started missing my moments of innocence, my childhood and yes my children were there on my mind. Who will look after them? I prayed to Allah for one chance to hold my children in the tightest embrace, stroke their hair, cup their delicate faces in my hands and take one last and long look at them. It was not to be, I was dead, my time had been cruelly snatched and I left the world a sad man, worried about my young children, feeling insecure about them in the absence of the protective affection of a father. I rued the day I joined politics, I rued the day the day I was outspoken, but the die had been cast.
Showkat Sahib I was there, I could see everything but nobody could see me. It seems my soul was there in pain, consumed with anger for being killed for no fault of mine, making my children fatherless. All the prominent leaders turned up at the burial site. They all delivered speeches and showered great praises on me. I saw one leader making a passionate speech and something bizarre struck me. The two boys who shot me often used to accompany this particular leader. Doubts started to arise in my mind. But I was overwhelmed by the emotionality of the burial site- familiar faces of party workers in a sad frenzy raising a din of futile slogans.
My trance shifted to my residence the following morning. People came there to offer condolences. Bilal was receiving the mourners. At a regular frequency fateha would be offered. My restless soul was watching. And then hell broke loose. Two young men came in. They were particularly distraught and hugged my brother Bilal and cried. I ran towards them peering into their face. I was shocked with disbelief. They were the ones who shot me. I tried shaking Bilal, shouted, cried and winced in pain, ”these are the boys who shot me. What are they doing here” Shorn of my physicality I was now a weightless, formless and invisible soul- a transcendental wanderer in pain. No one could hear me or see me, but I had to bear the torture of seeing everything. One of the damn fellows’ had the audacity to get up and deliver a mourning speech. The damn fellow broke down twice while delivering the speech. Showkat Sahib the pain of two murderers coming to pay condolences was far greater than the pain of being murdered.
I came out of my trance and was shaken. I went to bed thinking about you, the abruptness of your death, the last moments of your life, the sound of the blast, and its physical impact on your body and the dawning of that moment, when you knew that they had got you and your possible thoughts in those last moments. In the morning I saw the newspapers. Your photo was prominently displayed. I touched your face on the paper and moved my fingers across your face and stared affectionately at you and then my eyes shifted to the photo of the Jinazah. Thousands and thousands of people packed into Lal Chowk. I smiled. Death is an eternal reality. Showkat Sahib we all have to die one day. But in death, in pain, in being abruptly separated from your loved ones, in all the travails forced upon your family, the day still belonged to you. Few are lucky to have such a heroic farewell. Every adversity poses a new challenge. In this battle you have won the first round. You sacrificed your life for saying what you believed in. The onus of success or failure of subsequent rounds falls on us, the nation for which you sacrificed your life. If the murderer has the liberty to roam free and mourn you, Showkat Sahib, they win. If we are able to uphold the dignity of your sacrifices and disallow the liberticidal goons of murdering and mourning, we win, you win. My trance is a fiction, but fact is no pleasant. This is Kashmir and fiction overlaps with reality. A tiny lunatic fringe with castrated mental faculties, nourishing a supercilious contempt and disdain for liberties, for realism have taken upon themselves to rid Kashmir of what their delusions qualify as wrongs, and these cowards believe in the power of anonymous violence in silencing the voice of masses. Irrespective of our win or loss you will remain my icon for daring to say what you believed in. You are my Kashmiri hero. May Allah bless your family and may the heroic farewell inspire others to lead.
(Sajad Lone is Chairman People's Conference can be reached at lone.sajad@gmail.com)
Facebook Page: http://www.facebook.com/SAJJAD.LONE
The victim has alleged that Kumar abducted her and later raped her
A jawan of Territorial Army has been detained for allegedly raping a girl in Doda district of Jammu and Kashmir, police said.
Acting on the complaint of the girl, resident of Marmat village in Doda district, police has detained Ashish Kumar, a jawan of 159 battalion of TA, here on Tuesday.
The victim has alleged that Kumar abducted her and later raped her.
A case has also been registered against Kumar, they said.
However, according to army officials, the family of the girl has denied such allegations against the jawan.
They also said that police was not allowing them to meet the detained jawan.
Kahwah (also spelled qehwa, kehwa or kahwa) (Urdu: قہوہ) is a traditional green tea recipe that originates from Kashmir Valley. It is made in Kashmir Valley in India Administered Kashmir and the Gilgit-Baltistan region of Pakistan Administered Kashmir, in the North-West Frontier Province, Afghanistan, and other regions of Central Asia.
The Arabic word qahwah (قهوة) may have been the root for kahwah or kehwa. However, whereas qahwah is used for coffee beans, the BMC kehwa is a green aromatic tea. Even though exact origins of kehwa are still unclear, the aromatic traditional drink has been a part of local consumption for a long time. Certain sources trace the origins of the drink to the Yarkand valley in Xinjiang Area. (Areas of Kashmir and Xinjiang were part of the Kushan Empire during the 1st and 2nd century AD. It is likely that use of kehwa and its spread from one region to another was facilitated and popularised in these regions during the Kushan rule.)
The tea is made by boiling green tea leaves with saffron strands, cinnamon bark and cardamom pods and occasionally Kashmiri roses to add an aroma. Generally, it is served with sugar or honey, and crushed nuts, usually almonds or walnuts. Some varieties are made as a herbal infusion only, without the green tea leaves.
Traditionally, it is prepared in a brass kettle known as a samovar. A samovar consists of a "fire-container" running as a central cavity, in which live coals are placed keeping the tea perpetually hot. Around the fire-container there is a space for water to boil and the tea leaves and other ingredients are mixed with the water for a perfect blend. Kehwa may also be made in normal pans and vessels, as urban living may not always permit the use of elaborate samovars (or samavars, as they are popularly called in Kashmir).
Kahwah is usually served to guests or as part of a celebration dinner, and saffron (Kong) is added for special visitors. It is often served in tiny, shallow cups. In Kashmir it is also commonly served after Wazwan and elaborate family dinners.
Sometimes milk is added to the kahwa, but this is generally given to the elderly or the sick.
Rights group Amnesty International has criticised a tough Indian law which it says has been used to detain up to 20,000 people without trial in Indian-administered Kashmir.
Amnesty urged India to scrap the Public Safety Act (PSA) which allows detention for up to two years without charge.
The group also criticised the judiciary for its failure to protect human rights of the detainees.
Kashmir has been gripped by a violent separatist insurgency since 1989.
Corrrespondents say the Indian government does not comment on reports by international rights groups.
The detentions have been made since the beginning of the insurgency, Amnesty says in a new report released in Srinagar on Monday.
Detentions under the Jammu and Kashmir Public Safety Act documents how the law is used to secure long-term detention of individuals against whom there is insufficient evidence for a trial.
"The Jammu and Kashmir authorities are using PSA detentions as a revolving door to keep people they can't or won't convict through proper legal channels locked up and out of the way," said Amnesty campaigner Bikramjeet Batra.
"Hundreds of people are being held each year on spurious grounds, with many exposed to higher risk of torture and other forms of ill-treatment," he added.
The report says the detainees include political leaders and activists, suspected members or supporters of armed opposition groups, lawyers, journalists and protesters, including children.
Often, they are initially picked up for "unofficial" interrogation during which time they have no access to a lawyer or their families.
Even minors are being held under the law, the report says.
Amnesty International called upon the government of Jammu and Kashmir to repeal the law and end the system of detentions.
It also urged the government to release all detainees or charge those suspected of committing criminal acts with recognised offences and try them fairly in a court of law.
The Himalayan region of Kashmir is divided between India and Pakistan and is claimed in full by both.
The region is also one of most militarised in the world, with hundreds of thousands of troops present on both sides of the Line of Control - the de facto border dividing the territory.
Source: BBC
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