Thursday, 9 July 2015

An obscure corner of horror: A remote village in Budgam recounts past repression and continuing lack of justice

Budgam: The village of Sitaharan, 36 km from district headquarters Budgam, is nestled in thick forests overlooked by the infamous Tosamaidan, and flanked from three sides by army camps — each approximately at a distance of under 15 km. It is also known in the area as “mini Afghanistan” owing to the “toughness” of its people and the violent times they have seen. The village is the last outpost of human habitation on the northern side of Budgam district; the terrain is difficult and even now just the occasional mini bus travels to the village from adjoining Khag township some 12 km away.
Zooni Begum
But this is also a village of relatively unknown horrors: during the last 25 years of conflict in Kashmir, the village has seen an “unbearable” amount of army repression. The villagers, in fact, say that almost everyone was tortured at some point during the last 25 years.
“Our plight is still unknown to world. As you can see this is almost a jungle and rarely anybody except the army comes here” says sarpanch Adil Ahmed Sheikh, 56. Adil has been tortured several times. “The torture was such a daily feature of our lives that we have forgotten the number of times we were tortured,” he adds.
The villagers vividly remember the ’90s and are full of stories of collective torture and brutal harassment at the hands of the army.
One name that recurrently comes up is of one Major Bhim Singh of 34 RR, of the nearby Beerwah Camp, who was posted in the area from the middle ’90s to early 2000. “Major Bhim Singh was a sort of de facto ruler of the army in the whole area. And he was terrible with us,” says Mohammad Jabbar Khan, 65, a resident.
Farida Begum
In the document ‘Alleged Perpetrators’ (AP) prepared by the JK civil society, Major Bhim Singh of 34 Rashtriya Rifles is accused of extra-judicial killing of three men, two among them from Srinagar — Ghulam Nabi Lone and Shakeel Ahmed — and one Ghulam Mohiddin Zargar from Lanlab, a village just 5 km from Sitaharan. Case No 24 of this document accuses Major Bhim Singh of human rights violations. And all the three case against him are sub judice in the district court Budgam. On 23 July , 1995 , according to the AP document , the three men, Ghulam Nabi Lone and Shakeel Ahmed both employees in the power department, and Ghulam Mohiddin, a local guide, had gone to Uri for a survey assignment when they were killed by Bhim Singh and later called ‘militants’.
“We don’t want to remember what we have been through. We were tortured like animals and there are many people who were rendered disabled forever,” says Mohammad Jabbar Khan, who was tortured “innumerable” times by the army. The villagers claim that in the ’90s , the army would come to the village and pick up men one by one and
torture them in the ‘provisional torture camp’ in a dilapidated school building . They say they have spent hundreds of nights listening to the cries of the men beaten one by one at the torture camp.
According to the villagers, the army from the nearby camps, Drang and Raiyar, and Beerwah, which are at a distance of 7 km, 10 km, and 14 km respectively, would also come to the village and start beating whoever came in their way. “They accused us of hiding militants and providing shelter to them,” says Adil Sheikh.
One winter night in 1996, remembers Bashir Ahmed, resident of the village, soldiers from 34 RR from the Beerwah camp took away several men for interrogation. “There were around 30 of us, and they gave electric shocks to us. After that, many men never married,” he says. “I was hit on the head and I still get migraines from time to time, and I still feel like a current is passing through my body,” he adds. Bashir also says that some of the men were tortured so severely that they became disabled: “Around a dozen men never married after that. The army crushed their testicles and inserted copper wires in their private organs.”
Fayaz Ahmed (not his real name) is one of the victims of that torture who suffers from permanent impotency. He has a frail physique and limps while he walks. He accuses Bhim Singh of the torture: “He was not a human being, he was an animal. He passed electric
current through my private parts and after that let me go.” Zahoor Ahmed Malik, 40, was forced to drink urine when he was taken to the torture centre. “The things the army did here are beyond human comprehension,” he says. Satar Khan , 67, whose arm was broken during torture says the men used to flee to the forests in order to save themselves from the army and some also went to Poonch district to work as daily labourers, ponywallas et al.
The women were also not spared. Adil Ahmed Sheikh says that while the men used to flee to adjacent villages and towards the jungle, the army would barge into homes and torture the women. Some were also molested, he says. “The army tortured our mothers, sisters and daughters like animals. Many women were raped, but they buried those things in their souls and never talked about it openly,” says Ghulam Rasool Sheikh, a resident.
In August 1999, Farida Begum, 39, was tortured by personnel the Beerwah army camp and rendered disabled forever. “My left arm is disabled. It was twisted by the army and broken at the elbow,” she says. According to her, in late August 1999, three months after her husband died due to torture injuries, a dozen men in plainclothes barged into her house. “I was sleeping with my 14 year-old daughter when the men entered and dragged me out of my bed. Their eyes were bloodshot and they abused me and asked for the whereabouts of militants from the village,” she says. She recounts how the men pushed her aside and began to search, smashing window panes and utensils. “While they were busy searching my home, I, fearing rape, tied my pyjamas with seven knots,” she adds.
Finding no weapons or militants in the house, the men dragged her out. “Outside, around 30 army men flanked me and a Major Singh kicked me on the chest and I fell to the ground,” she says. Then
the men yanked her by the hair and dragged her to the outskirts of the village. “The major twisted my arm and it broke. Then they tied my arms behind my back and blindfolded me and tore off my clothes,” she says, weeping. “They then threw me to the ground and two soldiers sat on my legs and another forced a bottle of kerosene into my mouth. During all this, she says, the army men kept asking her to show them the militants and their weapons. “I told them that I knew
nothing, the only weapons I had are the tools used for wood cutting and agriculture,” she says.
Farida says that after torturing her for hours, the army then poured a bucket of water mixed with chillies on her face. “It was like fire. I felt as
if my body was set on fire,” she recounts. Later, she was thrown into a stream. “Fortunately, the stream was not too shallow and I crawled out and walked in the dark and fell unconscious.” Next morning, the
villagers discovered her unconscious and took her to the nearby Khag hospital where she was treated.
The family filed an FIR against the Beerwah Camp. “Nothing has happened to the case and I am too helpless to pursue it. I put my faith in Allah and ask only Him for justice” Farida says. She adds she wants to forget about that day, but the pain her body still feels does not allow her to. “I get migraines and I can’t sleep properly. My body is always in pain” she says.
In June 1997, Zooni Begum, a frail 45 year old woman had gone to the nearby jungle to collect wood. Suddenly, her 13 year old daughter came running and told her that the army has come. The army men, who were from the Drang camp, caught hold of her and began to beat her up. “They were saying I give food to the militants and that I have weapons at my home. I denied that and they began to slap me and beat me with gun butts,” she says. In broad daylight, the army dragged her from the jungle toward s her village. They took her to her home and tied her up in a room: “They yanked my hair and tied me with a rope. Then they beat me badly.”
The army cordoned off the whole village, and, in her home, Zooni says, the army men tore off her clothes. “Dastgeer Sahab saved my honour. I was praying to God to give me death but not let the animals dishonour me,” she says. At noon, the crackdown was lifted and a semiconscious Zooni was thrown out of her house. “After they threw me out, they
set my house on fire. They said it is punishment for not ‘cooperating’ with the army,” she adds. There was no justice later nor any compensation for her burnt house. She too has not pursued the case out of fear. “When I see an army man, my heart beats fast and sweat breaks out on every part of my body,” she says.
No FIR has been filed against these incidents and the villagers give two reasons for that. One, that they were “assured” by the then-Congress MLA Sarfaraz Ahmed Khan that he “will handle the issue himself” and that the villagers “need not worry”. “We waited for his advice but in the end he never did anything,” says Fareeda.
The second reason, they say, was that there “was no difference between the police and army”.
“We had nowhere to go and the police used to threaten us instead, and never came to our help or filed an FIR against the army,” the villagers say. “Those were dark times and we are simple people, we were concerned about our lives and never went to police stations after recurrent refusals and threats. There were even some policemen who were working for the army and they used to tell them everything about our visits to police stations,” they added.

By Nayeem Rather | Previously Published On Kashmir Reader (
http://www.kashmirreader.com/an-obscure-corner-of-horror-a-remote-village-in-budgam-recounts-past-repression-and-continuing-lack-of-justice ) on 9th July 2015 

Monday, 20 April 2015

Breaking Borders Episode 6 Tortured Past and Present in Kashmir

Saturday, 21 March 2015

Here is What Happened in Hashimpura 28 Years Ago

By Vibhuti Narain Rai,

There are some experiences that stick with you throughout your life. They always stay with you like a nightmare and sometimes are like debts on your shoulders. The experience at Hashimpura Massacre was such an experience for me, says Vibhuti Narayan Rai, then Superintendent of Police, Ghaziabad, UP. On 22 May 1987, in Hashimpura, a locality in the Meerut City, 42 innocent Muslims were killed in cold blood by the personnel of Provincial Armed Constabulary (PAC).

On the night of May 22, 1987, about 45 Muslim men from Hashimpura, a settlement in Meerut, were rounded up and packed into the rear of a truck of the Provincial Armed Constabulary (PAC). (Source: Praveen Jain/Indian Express)

The night of 22-23 May 1987, which I spent in the wild undergrowth along the stream flowing through the Makanpur village situated on the Delhi Ghaziabad border looking for any living souls amidst the dead bodies covered with blood in the dim light of my torch- everything is engraved in my memory like a horror movie. I had returned to Ghaziabad from Hapur at around 10 30 pm. District Magistrate, Nasim Zaidi was with me. So, I dropped him at his house before reaching the residence of the police officer. The moment the headlight of my car fell on the gates of the residence I saw an estranged and shocked Sub Inspector B. B. Singh who was the in charge of the Link road police station at that time.I could tell from my experience that something serious had happened in that area.I instructed my driver to stop the car and go off. B.B.Singh was so horrified that it did not seem possible for him to explain things coherently. Whatever he could convey while stammering about events in a disorderly manner was enough to shock me. I understood that somewhere in his station area the P. A.C. had killed some Muslims.

Why?? How many?? From where?? It was not clear. After asking him to repeat his facts again and again I tried making a narrative of the events piece by piece. According to the picture so drawn B.B. Singh was sitting in his office when around 9′ o clock he heard firing from the direction of Makanpur. He and everybody else at the station thought that there was robbery in progress in the village. Today Makanpur’s name can only be found in the revenue records. Makanpur today has tall magnificent buildings but in 1987 it was all barren land. Through this barren land ran a check road on which B.B. Singh raced his motorcycle towards the village. Behind him sat the station officer and a constable. They had barely covered a 100 yards on the check road when they saw a truck racing towards them from the opposite direction. If they had not ridden the motorcycle off the check road the truck would have ran them over.

According to them what they saw while trying to maintain their balance the truck was yellow in color and had 41 printed on the back. They even saw people in khaki clothes sitting in the back seats. It was not difficult for a police officer to understand that this was a truck belonging to the 41st battalion of the P.A.C. crossing them with some officers of the P.A.C.; but this made the situation more complicated. Why would a P.A.C. truck be coming from Makanpur at this hour?? What was the mystery behind the firing?? B.B. Singh got the motorcycle on the check road and again proceeded towards the village. The scene that he and his officers saw not more than a mile down the road gave them all goose bumps. Before the habitation of the village the check road crosses a stream. The stream goes ahead and enters into the Delhi border. There was a bridge where the check road crossed the stream.

As he reached the bridge and the headlights of B.B. Singh’s motorcycle fell on the undergrowth along the stream; he understood the mystery behind the firing. There were blood stains all over the place. Along the stream, in the undergrowth and in the water there were bodies with fresh wounds in them. B.B. Singh and his men tried to inspect the scene and to guess what happened there. All they could decipher was that there must be a relation between the bodies there and the P.A.C truck they came across on the way. Leaving the constable at the scene B.B. Singh with his fellow officer turned back to the main road. The headquarters of the 41st battalion of the P.A.C. was situated on the Delhi Ghaziabad Marg near the police station. They both headed for the headquarters.

The main gate was closed. Even after arguing for a long time the sentry did not give them the permission to go inside. B.B. Singh then decided to come to the zonal headquarters and tell me about the events.

From what I could understand from the narration it was clear that some event had occurred, the event was horrifying and that Ghaziabad could be in flames the next day. Since the past many weeks the neighboring district of Meerut was facing communal riots and these riots were moving towards Ghaziabad as well.

I first called the district magistrate Nasim Zaidi. He was about to sleep. After that I called the additional S.P. at the district headquarters, a few deputy S.P.s and magistrates and told them all to get ready. In about another 45 minutes we were heading towards the Makanpur village in about 7-8 cars.

Our cars were parked a little distance away from the bridge on the stream. No one had come from the village which was situated on the other side of the stream. It seemed that terror had forced them all to go into hiding in their houses. There were some police officers from the Link road police station though. The weak beams of their torches were falling on the thick shrubs besides the stream but it was difficult to see anything in that little light. I told the drivers to turn the cars towards the stream and turn their headlights on. An area of around 100 yards width was illuminated. What I saw in that light was the nightmare I was referring to in the beginning.

The light of the headlights was not sufficient due which torches were also carried by all the men. The stains of blood had still not dried up and blood was still dripping from them. The bodies of the dead were dumped all around some were stuck in the bushes whereas some were half submerged in the water. To check if anyone was still alive among the bodies seemed more important to me than to count and remove the dead.

We were about 20 people and everybody started looking in different directions to check if anybody was still alive. We would even yell out in between hoping that somebody would answer back, trying to tell them that we were not foes but friends and the injured would be taken to a hospital. But we got no reply. Disappointed some of us sat down on the bridge. The district in charge and I decided that there was no gain in wasting any time. We had to make strategies for the next day and we decided to leave the task of removing the bodies and completing the necessary paper work. We were about to proceed towards the Link Road station when we heard the sound of a cough coming from the stream.

Everyone froze. I leapt towards the stream. Silence fell over the place again. It was clear that there was a survivor but he did not believe that the people looking for him were friends. We started yelling out again and threw light on each individual body and in the end our eyes fell on a body which was moving. Someone was hanging by both hands from a bush with half his body in the stream in such a way that it was difficult for one to tell if he was dead or alive without proper attention. Trembling with terror and believing only after a lot of reassuring that we were there not to hurt but to save, the person who was going to tell us about this horrifying event, his name was Babbudin. The bullet had just missed and went scratching him. Unconscious he fell into the shrubs and in the stampede his killers forgot to check if he was dead or alive. Holding his breath he lay half in the water and half in the bushes and in this way he managed to cheat death. He wasn’t seriously hurt and he walked from the stream to the cars. He even rested on the bridge for some time.

When I met after 21 years while I was collecting material for the book I was writing on Hashimpura, at the same place where the P.A.C. picked him up from, he remembered that I offered him a biddi after taking one from a constable. According to what Babbudin told us that when that day during the regular checking around 50 people were made to sit in the P.A.C. truck they all thought that they were being taken to a station or a jail. The truck was taken off the main road about 45 minutes from Makanpur and stopped at distance down the road. The P.A.C. leapt down from the truck and ordered them to get down from the truck.

Only half the people had hardly got off when the P.A.C. started firing on them. The people still on the truck took cover. Babbudin was one of them. He could only guess what would have happened to the people who got off. The sounds of the firing probably reached the neighboring villages as a result of which noises started coming from them. The P.A.C. people again got on the truck. The truck reversed and again sped off towards Ghaziabad. Here it came to the Makanpur stream and the P.A.C. again ordered everyone to get off.

This time the horrified prisoners refused to get off so they were pulled and dragged from the truck. The one who came out were shot and thrown in the stream and the ones who didn’t were shot on the truck and thrown off. While Babbudin was telling us the whole incident we tried to assess the location of the first crime scene. Someone suggested that the first crime scene could be the stream which flows near the Muradnagar station which is situated on the road from Meerut to Ghaziabad. I called the Muradnagar station using the wireless at the Link road station and found that we were right.

The Muradnagar station had been facing the similar problem just some time ago. Some were found dead in the stream and some were brought back alive to the station.The story after this is a narrative of a long and torturous wait in which the issues relating to the relation between the Indian state and minorities, the unprofessional attitude of the police and the sluggish pace of the frustrating judicial system may be raised.

(The writer was then Superintendent of Police, Ghaziabad.) 

Source: India Resists ( http://www.indiaresists.com/here-is-what-happened-in-hashimpura-28-years-ago/ ) dated: 21st March 2015


NOTE: A Delhi court today (21st March 2015) acquitted sixteen Uttar Pradesh police personnel (Read Killers) accused in 1987 Hashimpura massacre in which over 40 Muslim were killed.

News Source Indian Express link: http://indianexpress.com/article/india/india-others/1987-hashimpura-massacre-delhi-court-acquits-16-up-cops/


Friday, 7 November 2014

The phone call that shattered hopes: ‘They have been martyred’

Five-year old Faizan picks up a fistful of earth and empties it into the grave of his elder brother—14-year-old Faisal Yusuf. He then moves backwards, and almost disappearing among a crowd of people, stands silent. Faisal's another younger brother, Farhan, stands near the grave, watching the funeral in a motionless state.
Both Faizan and Farhan are too young to understand the tragedy that struck the family. Without uttering a word, the two brothers glance at faces around them. Soon, the burial is completed and the duo taken back home, just opposite martyrs graveyard where their brother is laid to rest.

Faisal was one among the two boys killed in firing by Army in Chattergam, on the city outskirts, on Monday afternoon. While children of his age are usually fond of hanging out with friends and playing games, the 7th standard student, Faisal, was shaping into a religious scholar. At the tender age, he had memorized 15 chapters of the Holy Quran.
"Yes, he would occasionally lead prayers in the local mosque and had memorized 15 chapters of the Holy Quran," the soft-spoken Farhan uttered. "He was more like my friend. We would share sweets and watch cricket together."
For few minutes, Farhaan, who studies in class 5th and is wearing a traditional Pheran, keeps mum again. Then he remembers: "I would call him by the name of Burhaan. He was passionate about driving. I miss him.”
On the ill-fated Monday, Faisal had driven his father's car to Chattergam to see a Muharram procession. Three other boys from the locality including his cousin Zahid Ayoub, Shakir and Meraj-ud-Din too joined him. While Meraj also succumbed to the bullet injuries, Zahid and Shakir are undergoing treatment at the Army hospital here.
Minutes before he left the house on Monday afternoon, only to be brought dead, he along with his father, Muhammad Yusuf Bhat—a businessman—were arranging furnishing and curtains of a room on the first floor of their house, said Faisal’s maternal uncle, Mushtaq Ahmad. The family was preparing for a function on coming Sunday. “Faisal baya was to return to the school (Dar-ul-Uloom) on Monday,” responded Faizaan when asked him about his association with his brother. "No, we have never fought. Instead we would play cricket together, but he would always bat first. He would bat for longer time and then my turn would come. He would also share lays (snacks) with me.”
MERAJ, THE GENTLEST BOY
Neighbors remember Meraj-ud-Din as a gentlest boy in the locality and his colleagues described him as a friend of few words. A laborer by profession, Meraj had just stepped in his youthful days.
On the ill-fated Monday, Meraj of Bonpur, Nowgam finished his work early. He straightaway returned home and after taking lunch, went out. Hours later, at around 5 pm, his brother, Latief Ahmad rushed back home to inform his father, Ghulam Muhammad—an employee in the PHE department—that four youth, all from Nowgam, travelling in a Maruti car, were fired upon by army at Chattergam Chowk.
“He (Meraj) would never go anywhere and would always remain busy with his work,” his father says in a broken voice. “And I was sure he will be around.”
But minutes later, the father compelled Latief to call Meraj on his mobile phone to confirm about his whereabouts. “There was no response,” said Ghulam Muhammad, least knowing that his son and another local boy Faisal had already fallen to the Army bullets.
Next moment, the search for the son took the father out on the main road where he saw groups of youth discussing killings in Chattergam. “Every person in this area will vouch for his innocence. I assured myself that he (Meraj) will be safe,” he said.
But a group of young boys who were discussing that newspapers have reported (online) that one of the killed youth was Meraj increased his restlessness. He was not ready to accept the bitter truth. “I again called on his (Meraj’s) mobile,” he said. “This time a man, speaking in Urdu, asked for my identity. I told him I am Meraj’s father. He told me Meraj has been hospitalized and then the line got disconnected.”
For next few minutes, the helpless father repeatedly called on his son’s mobile but there was no response. Next time, he said, the mobile had been put on switch-off mode.
Caught between hope and despair, the scary thoughts caught hold of the father. At that moment one of his relatives informed him that they were going to see Meraj. “He said Meraj and other boys are injured and have been rushed to army hospital for treatment,” said Ghulam Muhammad.
For next half-an-hour the father kept hoping that his son would be safe. But, minutes later, a phone call shattered all his hopes. “Meraj and another boy have been martyred, they told me on phone,” he said, covering his face in his hands while silence drapes the room.
Few minutes later, this silence is broken by wailing mother and two sisters of Meraj, in another room. “Oh dear please come, we all are waiting for you,” Meraj’s mother wailed aloud.
Outside, young boys seethe in anger. “Look, how mercilessly they have killed them,” a burly youth displayed the photographs of blood-drenched bodies of the two boys on his mobile. “Can’t they have fired bullets at the tyres of the vehicle? The aim was to kill,” he said.

By Muddasir Ali

First published on GK on 04-11-2014

Boy who cheated death: An eyewitness account of Chattergam killiings

On November 3 morning, Faisal Yousuf met his friend, Zahid, at some distance from their homes in Nowgam locality on the outskirts of Srinagar. The two exchanged customary greetings and were soon joined by other friends. As the conversation warmed up, Faisal made jokes of Zahid's driving skills. Everybody, including Zahid, laughed theirs hearts out. 

"You know he once bumped his car into a girl on highway and he dares to call himself a driver," Faisal told Zahid.

"My family doesn't let me drive for this reason only," Zahid responded with a smile, to which Faisal added, "How shall they," sparking another spell of laughter. After cracking jokes, they shared their plans for the day. The conversation ended and everybody left for their homes.

In the afternoon of the fateful day, Shakir called his friend, Mehraj-ud-Din, and asked to join him on a drive. Mehraj was returning home from work. Shakir was accompanied by Zahid and they decided to wait for him till he had his meals. To kill time, they hopped into Zahid's Alto car and turned on the music. Mehraj soon joined them. 

As they embarked on the trip, Mehraj saw his best friends, Showkat and Ehsaan, and insisted them to join in, but they refused and instead went to Lal Chowk for shopping. The trio - Shakir, Zahid and Mehraj - were about to hit the road when Zahid got a call from Faisal. He wanted to join them too. Faisal was calling from a nearby playfield and asked them to receive him there. 

Shakir, Faisal, Zahid and Mehraj, the four teenage boys who were travelling in the car that met a tragic fate on Monday evening in Chattergam, live in the same locality since childhood. They know each other inside out. What they didn't know was the fate that was awaiting them in coming hours.

After meeting Faisal, all of them agreed not to take Zahid's car. Knowing his poor driving skills, Zahid's parents would regularly call him to return home whenever he was out on a drive. To avoid regular interruptions, they decided to take along a Maruti 800 car that belonged to Faisal's father. 

It was around 4:30 pm and the day was about to end.

Faisal got the keys of his father's car from home while his friends waited outside the gate of a local graveyard, where two of them - Faisal and Mehraj - will be buried, later, in a single grave. 

Basim Amin, the fifth boy who escaped unscathed in the shooting, is thinly built with fair complexion. He likes to rear pigeons and was, as always, looking for the birds in the sky. He was on his usual stroll on the highway in Nowgam when a honking car stopped near him. Inside the car were Faisal, Mehraj, Zahid and Shakir. Faisal who was driving the car offered Basim a drive to Suthsoo, a locality some four kilometre away from their location.

Basim agreed and joined the party. As a special gesture, Faisal offered Basim the seat beside him in the front.

Faisal sped up his car. On way to Suthsoo, they listened to music and gossiped. Faisal again teased Zahid for his driving skills. Nobody stopped them for frisking.

On their return, in Chattergam, uniformed men in twos and threes were stopping vehicles for checking. It was later known that they were troopers of Indian Army's 53 RR unit. A tipper was plying ahead of their car near a checkpoint when Army men waived at the driver to stop.

Faisal's car was behind the tipper and he decided to overtake. But his car brushed against the tipper. Another group of Army men standing few metres ahead waived at Faisal to stop. Already nervous, he applied handbrake but the car skidded off the road. 

The screeching tyres caught attention of the Army men who, without any provocation, pulled the trigger and fired the first shot which hit Faisal's arm. He lost control of car and rammed into an electric pole on the roadside.

All of a sudden, a volley of bullets pierced through the doors and windows. Nobody cried. There were no pleas, no justifications. The only sound they could hear was of their breathing and bullets.

When firing stopped, Faisal and Mehraj were dead in a pool of blood with bullets bored into their bodies. Shakir and Zahid were unconscious and bleeding. On the seat besides Faisal was Basim; stunned, motionless, pale but unscathed. A green-eyed boy known for his wittiness among his relatives and neighbours, he slowly pulled down the glass and got out of the car through the window. 

He rolled his body over the road four to five times and dropped into the low-lying paddy fields. With their guns pointed at the car, the Army men began retreating, perhaps out of fear of the boy coming out of the window. Seeing no response, the Army men fired several shots at him. Luckily, Basim escaped from the mouth of death. In real terms, he had cheated death.

Basim tried to run through the fields but he had no energy left in his body. Nevertheless, he managed to reach a house at the end of paddy fields where he drank a glass of water. His thoughts were with his friends. After about 30 minutes, he came to see if his friends are still there. But he could only see a large crowd of people at the spot. It soon dawned on him that the world he knows would no more be same to him. 

After a night of mourning, he joined the funeral prayers of Faisal and Mehraj next morning.

By Rouf Bhat

First published on authintmail.com 05-11-2014