Memories of Occupation: A Kaeshir girl’s account
That is, until my blissful bubble was burst one summer in 1989. I noticed subtle changes such as airport security; but the blatant ones came in the form of the sudden presence of Indian soldiers at every corner, check points, clamp down on taking tourist photos, sudden stop and searches of vehicles (including women and children only).
One gorgeous sunny day in paradise, my family and I were off out with a crammed picnic basket of goodies. Myself, my sister, mother & aunties went in a taxi to Nishat Bagh. All of a sudden, the taxi halted and I was stirred from my reverie by an Indian soldier opening the door and leaning in with his rifle asking my auntie to open the tall picnic basket. Once opened he rummaged through it and decided there was nothing of interest there and let us proceed with our journey. I turned to my auntie and asked her “Why was he looking through our picnic basket?”; “He thinks we’re concealing weapons” she said in the most ordinary way.
I was aghast at her answer, “Like what?!” my child’s brain said to itself. To this day, I still find this one of the strangest things to have ever happened to me, you may think this is a bit dramatic, but you need to understand the back drop of this event. This heavenly land now had a smudge of hell within it and it was this precise moment I felt the reality and it made my blood run cold.
On another occasion we were in my uncle’s house and some Indian men tried to force their way in saying they needed to use the landline. My uncle lied to them and said the telephone was not working, in order to deter them. I knew this wasn’t true and that if they realised, he was lying to them, they could cause trouble for my uncle, such as arresting him or worse.
My uncle put his arm up to block them from entering, however the two men easily overpowered him, violently shoving him aside. Panic setting in, I rushed to the kitchen, knowing they would not expect us to have another phone in the house. As the thugs made their way into the lounge to use the phone, I was in the kitchen, picking up the receiver and dialling random digits, and then disconnecting on repeat. The two men came to the conclusion that the phone was indeed not working as my uncle had told them and turned to leave, as they did so, they scanned the lounge for valuables and made off with a TV and VCR, this didn’t bother us: we were just glad they had left.
Another time at a well-known tourist spot called Pari Mahal, having been there so many times, my dad got out his new Olympus camera, eager to get some good pictures of the sights below from the lofty view. He was immediately approached by a Koshur caretaker who told him photography of any kind was strictly prohibited. My father was bemused at this and put his camera away. We had been here hundreds of times, but here in 1989, we were unable to take pictures in our own land as Kashmiris! Suddenly an army helicopter rose from behind one of the hills and flew over us, my father turned to us and said they’ve turned this spot into a military base, or at least the area behind it. I felt sad and angry, who were these outsiders coming in to OUR home and telling us what we could do? I didn’t realise it then, but the words I was looking for were ‘invaders’, ‘colonisers’ and ‘occupiers’ - the behaviour we were seeing was that of a colonial master, albeit one who had been colonised by the British for hundreds of years themselves.
It has occurred to me since then, that India has always hero-worshipped Britain and its colonialist behaviour; it aspires to it. The idea that they could just leave us be, was unthinkable to them. Since that year, going back to Kashmir time and time again, with its occupation firmly underpinned and enforced by the intense foreign military presence there, the daily monitoring of civilians has become completely normalised. And this is just the everyday stuff; this does not include the lesser known about large scale killings, forced disappearances, tortures, gang rapes of entire villages of women, arrests and false imprisonments without proof or due process (especially of the press), censoring of communications, journalists, active threats and financial incentives to doxx Kashmiri anti-India decent. The revocation of Article 370 and 35A was India realising and formalising its expansionist and colonial ambitions. They have hidden their evil crimes by enforcing a media and communications blackout, happily accepted by the world.
As the years go by and memories fade, our native stories will be passed down to our children, children’s children and the world will testify to the bullying, occupation and ethnic cleansing of the people of Kashmir Valley from every outsider who has fetishised and coveted us for our mere existence.
Free Kashmir Valley