One look at their radiant faces, and your heart melts. Their eyes, filled with excitement, bravely hide all the gory excesses they have witnessed too early on in life. Their roots are spread across the troubled marshland of two feuding countries and bifurcated with barbed wires across a Line of Control they had no role in creating.
It must have been pretty confusing for a child to grow up in Kashmir in the last 15 years. Hearing the language of hatred and suspicion before learning how to speak… seeing loved ones’ legs being blown into smithereens before learning how to walk…
The horrifying terror attacks in Mumbai that kept people on tenterhooks for days may have been of a higher intensity. But they may help us realise that the trauma faced every day by the people of Kashmir and the soldiers of the Indian Army posted there is not very different from what Mumbai went through.
To ease the pain somewhat for these little bravehearts, the annual all-expenses-paid ‘Sadbhavna Sair-e-watan Tour’ is organised by the Indian army for 25-30 Kashmiri children.
’Sadbhavna’ means compassion and the aim of this exercise is to evoke mutual respect and empathy between the people of Kashmir and the rest of India. The children visit different parts of India, and for most of them this is their first foray outside Kashmir. They see India’s historical monuments, bustling metros; visit schools and interact with other children, attend and present cultural shows and taste different foods of the country.
I had the privilege of interacting with one such group of Kashmiri children touring various cities in northern India two months ago.
Twelve-year-old Sajjad Ahmad Sheikh said he wants to be a police inspector some day.
His friend Shafqat Ahmed Khan, also 12, was excited about seeing India Gate, the metro and the Parliament House in Delhi. He wished there were more aeroplanes, trains and bridges in his village. Then, he added, that, to begin with, even a road would do.
Manzoor Ahmed Lone, 13 years, conceded how he still feels terrified while sleeping, dreaming about the sound of gunfire he heard every night when he was a baby. He wants to be a doctor because he loves wearing a white coat and a stethoscope around his neck. He also likes providing khidmat(care) to others.
Shafqat then told an amazing story in the course of the conversation. “My grandparents and uncles live in Pakistan-occupied Kashmir while I live here with my parents. Many years ago, they had gone to attend a wedding on that side. Suddenly gunfire started and the whole gathering scattered. Those who were on that side, had to remain there. While my parents and I ended up here. I miss my grandfather and can only speak to him over the phone.”
Shagufta Akhtar, a bright 13-year-old, told us how her daily routine, besides going to school, includes getting bucketsful of water from a natural spring, washing clothes and utensils, and cooking. Their staple diet is no-frills: rice, kidney beans, maize and potato. Meat is a rare indulgence. In winters, their village is hit by avalanches and often cut off from the outside world for almost six months. During the summers, they stock up rations for the cold, long winters. How does Shagufta manage to smile all the time? But she does, and announced that she wants to be an Indian Army officer one day.
Zuna Bano, a spunky 14-year-old, entertained everybody with an ‘English song.’ She wishes to be an engineer. Her brother is a martyr, she added proudly. A soldier with the J&K Police, he was awarded the Shaurya Chakra posthumously for laying down his life during a dangerous operation.
Then it was on to the tiny and dainty Afroza Bano, all of 12 years, who had a comment to make on everybody in the group and a giggle to follow every question. Her effervescence was infectious and endearing, till she revealed a mean little streak. She wants to be a doctor because she loves the idea of giving injections! We all had a good laugh - and that went a long way in building bridges.
smshivanimohan@gmail.com
Sunday, May 24, 2009
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