My Exodus (Part 1)

Kashmir, as my grandfather through his tales told me, was very complex. It is a Muslim dominated area and ruled by Islamic ruler through the medieval and modern history till 19th century (when the Sikhs brought the state of Jammu and Kashmir under their rule). Most of the Kashmir's culture/food habits/marriage and other rituals were influenced by the culture its ruler brought with them. However, the minority Shaivite Pandits did maintain the ancient culture of the Shavisim with alternations and adaptations. (It is important to point out here that the Hindu religion is based on three basic principles of - Desh [Place], Kal [Time], and Patr [Person]. The rituals, ceremonies, and other aspects of the religions are flexible based on the three principles.)

Moving on, it is important to note that it was only during the period of the Dogra kings that the the three regions of Jammu, Kashmir, and Ladakh (though culturally very different) came together as the "Princely State of Jammu and Kashmir). During Islamic rule on Kashmir, the Kashmiri hindus were persecuted and as the legend goes at one time only eleven families of Kashmiri hindus were left in the valley. The Kashmiri hindus had to leave valley four times during the Islamic rule. The situation was no different for muslims of the valley during the Dogra rule in the 19th century, and the dogra rulers were similarly unpopular among their kashmiri muslim subjects.

I was born in December month of the year 1986. Earlier in the year, the communal tension had increased in the valley since the Parmeshwari Movement in 1967.

The early memories of my childhood are those of my care-taker "Gul" didi (8-year daughter of our kashmiri muslim neighbor). Since both my parents were working, I used to stay with my grandparents in one of the most scenic villages of North Kashmir in the Lolab valley. Gul would come to our place early morning and would take care of me all day, till my grandmother would finish off with her daily chores. I would often visit Gul's home and many a time eat there (its important to note here that kashmiri pandits and muslims generally avoided to eat from each other's kitchen, though during ceremonies special cooks were bought to serve the guests from the other community). Gul would often fight with my grandmother when the later would tell her that Deepu (as I am called at home) will not cure her when I became a doctor. To be honest, I considered her to be my elder sister till many years we moved to Jammu and was never able to understand why she didn't come with us.

One day, in early 89, my grand mother returned back from the nag (in villages the water for cooking etc. had to be carried from the nearby spring) and she was very upset and perplexed. She had been told by a muslim friend that they had visitors from "Apooor" (the other side) who had got big "saanduks" (boxes). My grandfather would daily take me to the village temple early in the morning. One night we were woken up by a loud noise - "Mandar ha zoluk" (the temple has been burnt) . I remember getting up and walking to the balcony behind my grand mother and all I could see was the large flames coming from the site of the temple. Few days later, a neighbor paid a visit to our house, he spoke to my grandfather directly. The neighbor told my grandfather that the situation was going to get worse. And he didn't stop at that. He asked a direct question to my grandfather.

"Do you have any gold ornaments of your daughter-in-law (my mother) in the house, if yes, give them to me and I will keep them safe"

My grandfather was taken aback. All he could utter was a NO! Later in the day, he and my grandmother took out all the ornaments of my mother and dug a pit in our living room, put the ornaments in the pit, and closed it. Later during the month, when my father visited us, grandfather gave the ornaments to him in a suitcase and the instructions were - If any-one tries to snatch the suitcase from you, just let it go, and save yourself.

In November 89, three bearded-men had come looking for a cousin uncle of mine. They had knocked at the house of his door, which was opened by his mother. His mother had innocently told the men that the uncle wasn't in house and would return back in the evening. As the men were leaving, one of our neighbors did recognize one of the guys who had returned from the other side. As they spoke, the uncle's mother realized that something wasn't right. She called for another uncle of mine and told him to go and stop her son from returning back. (All these instances have been narrated to me by this aunt of my dad)

Later in January 90, my grandmother and I went to Srinagar, as my mother was expecting my sister. The situation there was even worse. We used to stay in a rented house with the owners staying at the ground floor. Often during those days, I was woken by loud protests and gun shots. My unmarried aunt wasn't allowed to venture out of the house - not even to the ground floor, given the situation outside. It was January 27, I think, as the curfew was relaxed, my dad went out to buy some house hold items, but returned really worried. He and grandmother held a quick discussion and my grandmother started crying. Next day early morning, dad woke me up and told me that we were going. The taxi was called. I along with my father sat in the front seat, where as my grandmother, aunt, and mom sat at the back. My grandmother hid a knife in her sari as she had decided in case of any problem to save the honor of her daughter and daughter-in-law it was better to kill them first, than let them fall in the hands of terrorists.

During those times, there was no internet, wireless, and mobiles. The telephones had not reached the villages yet. We left without informing anything to my grandfather who was still at the village. The message was left for him with one of my maternal uncles,who could tell my grandfather in-case he visited Srinagar to meet us.

(To be Contd.)