U-Turn: A Saga of Agony & Ecstasy: Dr Gauri Shankar Raina – Deepak Budki

 

           U-Turn: A Saga of Agony & Ecstasy 

           – Deepak Budki

Kashmir has, of late, produced many fiction writers both within and outside the Valley. The latter were forced to settle outside Kashmir due to the rise of militancy in the early nineties. Nevertheless, the writings of both groups are like two sides of the same coin: one depicts the suffering of people living in the Valley, and the other portrays the nightmare migrants endured during and after the exodus. Many of them are vitriolic in their outpourings, depicting the pain and tribulation their community has endured over the last thirty-five years. 

Gauri Shankar Raina's collection of short stories titled 'U-Turn and Other Stories', published by Niyogi Books, New Delhi, in 2025, is a valuable addition to this series. He has penned these short stories in Kashmiri. At the same time, Pankaj Bhan, an English academic and editor of the journal 'Meeras', published by Kasheer Foundation, has eloquently and comprehensively translated them into English. 

Born in Srinagar in 1955, Dr Gauri Shankar holds a doctorate from JLN University and is a well-known writer, playwright, translator and filmmaker. He started writing during his school days and adopted the pen name 'Mast'. He is proficient in Kashmiri, Hindi and English with around two dozen publications in Hindi and Kashmiri to his credit. Professionally, he remained associated with Doordarshan Srinagar. 

The book 'U-Turn' contains twelve short stories, predominantly set in Kashmir and focusing on its culture before and after militancy. He has consciously refrained from hyperbole and evaded narrating horrifying events of the militancy era to maintain a secular undercurrent and continue the thread of togetherness of Kashmiris called Kashmiryat.  

The first and a significant short story 'U-Turn' deals with the most topical subject, environmental degradation, especially of Dal Lake, besides the apathy of the State Government and bureaucracy towards tackling this grave problem, which frustrates a sincere, honest and internationally acclaimed environmentalist, A R Bhat, who undergoes a bout of depression and ultimately seeks an escape route.

As a Botanist, I have witnessed this phenomenon with a heavy heart during my long stay in Srinagar. I have watched the silting of Dal Lake, quarrying in the foothills of Shankracharya, and encroachments in Pahalgam, Gulmarg, and Sonmarg right under the noses of politicians who were expected to protect them. Even the mountains of Amarnath and Vaishnodevi have been disfigured under the pretext of temple tourism.

'A Journey by Bus' is a story of love at first sight between two young co-passengers on a day-long bus journey from Jammu to Srinagar that, unfortunately, ends in a fiasco, thereby highlighting the disadvantages of stratification in Hindu society. The writer also presents a panoramic view of the picturesque hill stations en route.

Another story is titled 'Babuji's Miracle', which deals with a social evil prevalent in our country called land and property grabbing by gangsters who have political clout, and therefore, the police and judiciary are ineffective against them. A person whose property is under siege cleverly tricks the usurper by clandestinely circulating a rumour that the earmarked property is haunted, as ghosts are said to inhabit it. This forces the grabber to give up its claim on it. 

The short story 'Boarding Card' again reflects the orthodox and conservative nature of Kashmiri Pandit society, as in 'A Journey by Bus'. A handsome young Kashmiri man working at the Airport falls in love with Lora, a model from Berlin seeking a break in Bollywood. He wants to marry her, but his family disagrees. Later on, he learns that she is suffering from Mesothelioma, a rare lung cancer and may not live long. He, in turn, informs his parents, and the same conservative parents advise him not to ditch her and instead marry her. She, however, decides to go and join her mother in Berlin.

'He and She' is a story set in modern life, with fragile bonds shadowed by material gain. It narrates a love affair that bears no fruit; the two get separated, the girl becomes an event manager, while the boy remains a poor artist. After a long time, he is commissioned to present a programme in Mumbai, where he meets the same girl in the garb of the event manager, but she refuses to recognise him. This prompts him to reconsider the relationship and accept a colleague's pending proposal.

'Interlude' is a story about a thanatophobic person, Shibanji, who undergoes a surrealistic experience that opens the door to his subconscious and unconscious mind. He confides in his close friend, who, too, is greatly worried, yet reassures him. While preparing for his inevitable death, he tries to expedite the nominations on his bank accounts and pension papers. Surprisingly, after some time, he recuperates, and his friend feels happy to see him again in good spirits.

'Mannequins' is an impressive, thought-provoking and symbolic story. It is a story of an uprooted Kashmiri migrant, Vinod, who is forced to move along with his ailing wife from Jammu to Chandigarh and finally to Delhi in search of shelter and employment, besides the availability of AIIMS, where he wants his wife with a terminal illness to get proper medical attention. Being skilled in draping mannequins, his employer once ordered him to get a mannequin from a distant market. He thinks about the mannequins, which to him are inanimate idols, yet when draped and beautified, they attract customers. He is led to a store where he faints, and later, after recovery, he carries the mannequin to his shop. On reaching the shop, he receives a message that his wife, Prabha, is in serious condition. He rushes to his house, takes his wife to AIIMS, tries to console her, but all along he thinks of Death and His justice and prays that his wife should be relieved from the unbearable pain.

In the story 'Home Coming', the writer recounts the journey of Kashi Nath, who visits Kheer Bhawani (Abode of Goddess Ragñya) along with other Kashmiri Pandit devotees. He is seen by his Muslim neighbour, who insists that he should stay with them for a few days. He and his son enjoy the neighbour's hospitality. While he visits his old house in the neighbourhood, his neighbour returns to him all the precious things he had recovered from his house and preserved, and his son goes on an errand with the neighbour's son. He does not return in the evening or the following day, which makes his father anxious. Fortunately, he returns the day after, accompanied by a policeman who informs the parents that he was rounded up by the police, suspecting him to be one of the miscreants, and only after verification has he been released and brought here for handing over to his parents. This relieves Kashi Nath, who wastes no time in leaving the Valley the next morning.

'Reverie' reflects a person's emotions as he remembers his partner, who departed from this mortal world long ago.  

The next story in the book is 'The Shroud Maker', a poignant tale of a master craftsman who earns his livelihood as a tailor and focuses on educating his children. A known, respectable social worker persuades him to sew some shrouds for the disposal of the dead. He accepts the gratuitous work but loses his clientele as a result. People get angry about him doing that kind of job. He is ostracised and forced to leave the place for good. After a long time, the equation changes when his daughter returns to the same place as the District Magistrate.

'The Umbrella Man' is yet another touching story in which a starving man, abandoned by his employer and friends, takes up a low-grade occupation repairing umbrellas against the wishes of his acquaintances. Later, due to militancy, his family is uprooted, but his daughter pursues her goals and gets a job in a foreign bank, which totally changes their status. She carries her father with her to the astonishment of all who looked down upon them earlier. The woes of Kashmiri Pandits, refugees in their own land, are very effectively narrated in this story by the author.

The last story in the book is 'Cave', in which a group of archaeologists is on an expedition to unearth the secrets of a cave in Kashmir, but heavy rains prevent them from doing so. As one of them, a Kashmiri Pandit, walks down the hill, which is brimming with water, he is overwhelmed by the scenery as he visualises how the Valley must have looked when it was Satisar lake, thus mentally exploring his own past.     

  

Shankar's short stories mostly revolve around human travesties and the endeavours of their protagonists to overcome adversity. His characters are strong, analytical, and often spiritual, and they exude a 'never give up' attitude. In Mannequins, he has highlighted the fact that Kashmiri Migrants concentrated on the education of their children at the expense of their own health and comfort.

The writer remains optimistic about the future of Kashmir and its syncretic culture. He often experiences nostalgia for life in Kashmir and reminisces about his past. Most of his recollections find mention in his stories like description of an abandoned house in 'Boarding Card', the view of Vitasta (River Jhelum) in the evening with floating lighted earthen lamps, crossing the river by shikaras (boats), a bird's eye view of Habbakadal (A bridge in Srinagar bubbling with life) in 'The umbrella Man', visit to abandoned house, sudden public demonstrations and police excesses in 'Home Coming',  life in the refugee camp in Delhi in 'He and She', life in one-room Barsati given to him as refugee in Delhi, and purchase of Himachal apples in 'Mannequins'. 

The writing style is very smooth and captivating, further underscoring the dexterity and artistry of the original Kashmiri language. The author remains a passive narrator, neither imposing himself on the text nor using melodramatic expressions to describe situations that otherwise could have led him to do so. In the end, I congratulate both the author for such excellent fiction and the translator for a beautiful translation. 

*****   

Shabnam’s Parting Gift to Kashmiri Literature — Deepak Budki

 

 Shabnam’s Parting Gift to Kashmiri Literature

— Deepak Budki

Two books written by Omkar Nath ‘Shabnam’, a known Kashmiri humorist and satirist, have been published posthumously by his wife, Anjali Bhat, in 2024, titled ‘Myein Kath-Wachi Pyatha Vaishali Taam’ (Autobiography) and ‘Harf Katstam Rudim Toti Baqi’ (Collection of Poems). Before these, his poetry collection ‘Tyoth Modur’ was published in 1988. All his life, he enthralled listeners with his humorous poetry in Mushaiaras and on the radio. 

Born on 12 January 1945 in Wachi, Shopian, Kashmir, Omkar Nath Bhat (Pen name ‘Shabnam’) was adopted by his widowed grandmother’s sister and grew up in Zainapora until her death, after which he rejoined his parents. He lost his siblings, except his younger brother, who is also a poet. In his short autobiography, Omkar Nath nostalgically recounts the ups and downs of his life and describes the relatives who mattered to him. He also relates important anecdotes that added spice to his life’s journey. Shabnam has narrated an interesting account of how Som Nath Sadhu, Agha Sahib of ‘Zoone Dab’, visited his house to fulfil his father's wishes, and, after a warm welcome, lost his prized pen, which was found after his departure and sent to him the next morning. He has also given glimpses of the said programme, which was very popular in those days. Other anecdotes concern the reactions of various poets to his poetry, etc. He recalls that at his primary school in Wachi, the medium of instruction was Kashmiri. He joined the middle school at Zainapora and stayed with his adopted mother, but unfortunately lost his actual mother in 1959. 

He was introduced to writing by the famous Kashmiri writer Arjan Dev Majboor, who taught at his school. He accompanied Majboor Sahib to Mushairas and met well-known poets such as Dina Nath Nadim, etc. Other influencers were his maternal uncle Daya Ram Kastoor and Radhey Nath Masarat. After passing the 8th standard examination, he joined the high school in Bijbehara, from where he completed his matriculation. Moreover, he obtained a degree in Basic Education Course and joined the teaching profession as a primary school teacher. 

Shabnam started writing poetry in 1965 with a Tarhi Nazm in the daily Khadmat, a couplet from which is reproduced hereunder: 

Myeti Zoal chael chael danus zyun,

Tohe keth paeth baele tchapan naar

Afterwards, he continued to write for all the prominent Urdu and Kashmiri journals and newspapers, as well as for Yuva Vani and Radio Kashmir. He was transferred from place to place during his career. At Saraf Kadal, Srinagar, he was fortunate to meet Ghulam Nabi Firaq and Hasrat Gadda, the former of whom became his Ustad and taught him the nuances of poetic diction. Later, he was shifted to Kapran, where he met poets, viz. Naji Munawwar and Shafi Shauq. At this juncture, he had to leave his ill mother alone in the house. His pain and helplessness are portrayed in his poem, ‘Maej’. Three couplets: 

Ye chu maje pyomut thane suy baluk,

Maeng maeng yus taem hyut astanun;

Hu chaey motus saet dabe dabe karwen,

Ye che nazrav nishe tus waryah door…….

Yem shure kut taam tchepi tchor gindan,

Mae che aalav aalav Maej divaan

It was during his stay at Kaparan that he responded to an invitation from Radio Kashmir for young poets to submit their poems, and his poem was selected. Thereafter, he became a regular on Yuva Vani and AIR programmes. It is here that he got another guide, Autar Krishen Rehbar, who taught him to focus on his strengths, i.e. humour and satire, instead of trying his hand at every genre. As a result, Shabnam became very popular and was always cheered on in Mushaiaras. After about five months, his Officer was impressed by his recitation of poetry at a Mushaira, which prompted his transfer to Zainapora, near his home, where he stayed for almost 15 years. As per his assertion, he was thus convinced that “Pen is mightier than the sword.” While in service, he completed his graduation in 1973, post-graduation in Persian in 1976, in Kashmiri in 1983, and B.Ed. in 1978.

In May 1990, he had to migrate from the valley along with his community members due to militancy. He initially stayed in Jammu for some time, but in view of employment opportunities for his children, he shifted to Delhi-NCR and ultimately settled in Vaishali, Ghaziabad. In Delhi, he himself was employed as a translator and later as a newsreader in Kashmiri at the AIR. Here, too, he remained associated with Kashmiri literary associations and contributed to magazines. Various organisations awarded him many prizes.

As regards ‘Shabnam’s latest collection of poems titled ‘Harf Katstam Rudim Toti Baqi’, it has 32 poems, including 4 ghazals, apart from introductory essays by Moti Lal Kaul ‘Naaz’, Roop Krishen Bhat and Ms Anjali Bhat, wife of Late Omkar Nath ‘Shabnam’. The poems are mostly humorous and portray human behaviour in the contemporary age, his personal experiences, and the evil practices prevalent in our modern society. As per Richard G. Scott, “ A good sense of humour is an escape valve for the pressures of Life.” Suffice it to say that humour is a gift from God to Shabnam, and it is subtle and thought-provoking. He often uses satire to poke at the dying embers of the unresponsive society's fire. The poem ‘Zang’, and quatrains like ‘Tukh’ and ‘Parody’ are the best examples. 

1. Ratus dohus vaze chaie, kus kheye te kus kare zaye;

Gushtabe maran graye, Ristan andar sarmaye, 

Tchaman te palak draye, aeke tyoth te aek mung myooth,

Kastam chu sapdan looth, kastam chu sapdan looth.           (Looth)

2. Demand vemand ti ma kaerev; Kore maelis panun hub,

Chequey hargah ditchin, ratav; tath kya karav su gaye zang.(Zang)

3. Manz Wandus akh sheene maharaze wuchum khandar karan,

Salarav maend rub te dub lug yazmanus manz aangnus (Parody)

His humorous poems are interspersed with some serious ones, which are a direct result of the pain and agony he suffered in early life due to separation from his biological mother and migration in old age, which made him extra-sensitive. Examples are ‘Maej’, ‘Yaad’ and ‘Sarfaene’. In his poem ‘Okus Bokus’, he seeks to realise himself. In ‘Shamat’, he portrays the nightmare he underwent due to the militant uprising in Kashmir, while in ‘Raete Koul’, he describes the pain and suffering he faced after migrating out of the valley. In ‘Praznath’, he questions why people nurture hate. The poem ‘Ghush’ reminds us of Aesop's tale of a woodcutter and a goddess.

1. Kanh zan deyi kadlus naar tchallav kut,

Vyethe vaenis mileve su khak wanav kus.

    2) Yeli reshtis watte lug dugnyaruk,

Gaye nazre te napaak wanav kus

    3) Gharan qulaf te waanan falav dith naerav,

Saeriy gatchav jamah, yas nish yus hethyar chu,

Su heth naerav jehadus,

Tethuy ditch bronthe kanek hamsaye kaet aek,

Lut lut kraekh, mukhbirus ditchekh goel

Kaefir morukh, Kaem? Koche gale manze pritchus kore ake…

Even on his deathbed, he never lost his sense of humour while interacting with his doctors and nurses. He wrote:

Mae chu door tchallun, tchyen dith rishtan

Kenh praevith, path kun travun az.  

After going through the above books, I felt that if Shabnam Sahab had also concentrated on prose writing, he would have greatly enriched Kashmiri literature. His style is unique and precise; he uses similes and metaphors frequently to adorn his prose.

*****

Dreams Shattered

 

                        Dreams Shattered

After discharge from the Army in February 1988, I had requested a transfer to Srinagar to settle my family. I had thought I could spend five to six years there without any interruption. During this period, my children would complete their school education and, possibly thereafter, go to professional colleges outside the state. Getting admission for them in the Burn Hall School, the number one school of the valley, was a boon, which was not beyond my imagination.

I had purchased a piece of land at Bagh-e-Mehtab in Chadora district on the outskirts of Srinagar. I entrusted the job of walling the land to one of my friends, who, however, did not take proper care to check that the cementing of the wall was properly done, and water was sufficiently sprinkled on the wall from time to time for a few days. This was not done.

We had a neighbour, A R Mir, an Accounts Officer in the State Finance Department, who lived nearby across the main road. He suggested building a house and told me that he had a very sincere mason known to him who could be entrusted with the job. I made the outline drawing of the house myself, but as a precaution, I showed it to the departmental architect who had fortunately come to Srinagar. He approved the drawing but suggested a change in bathroom design, which was incorporated. The mason was entrusted with the job while the carpenter was available next door. The mason was a master of many related jobs, and he, along with his team, did the work very well. Materials like stones, sand and cement were arranged. A part of the front wall was built with chiselled green stones costing Rs 100/- per stone. This proved quite expensive, but there was no way to escape subsequently. The work went on till the winter fall when it was stopped at the slab level of the first storey. During the winter, we performed the house entry puja and gave a feast to many relatives who were invited. The next job of covering the first storey with a roof of CGI sheets and making some additional rooms underneath the said roof was postponed to next spring.

In the ensuing winter itself, an uprising in Kashmir prevented any further additions or alterations to the house. In fact, I was targeted by the militants because I was an Officer in the Postal department, and therefore, I could not go and see the half-constructed house. The whole work was stalled for several years. 

The house remained unprotected and unguarded for almost a decade since I was posted far away from Srinagar. Meanwhile, I had made enquiries through my departmental officials to find a buyer for the same. The militants had forbidden any Muslim to purchase the houses of Kashmiri Pandits. This plunged the prices of Kashmiri Pandit property.  However, the locals found methods to purchase such property on a power of attorney. I got the first quote of two lakhs rupees which gradually increased to four lakhs. During my next tenure as PMG, I entered into a deal with a buyer introduced to me by my close friend for six lakh rupees in 1998, though I had spent the same amount on the construction of the house about ten years back. It was a distress sale. Nevertheless, I thought it better to go in for a stop-loss sale rather than wait indefinitely. I had also inherited an ancestral house, which I handed over to my youngest sister, who preferred to stay put in Srinagar permanently.

The other area where destiny played its part was the education of the children. Schools and colleges remained closed, and it was dangerous to send children to school. The Hindu staff of the school and the Hindu children too migrated out of the valley. I also asked my wife to go to Shimla, but she returned. By the time a branch of Burn Hall was opened as St Peter's Higher Secondary School, Jammu and my children joined the same and later shifted to Kendriya Vidyalaya. This arrangement did not last too long as I was deputed to join a year-long in-service course in the National Defence College, New Delhi. My family joined me as soon as I got government accommodation in Kaka Nagar, Delhi.

Though my tenure in J&K came to an end with the start of 1992, even after that, I was posted twice to the circle, firstly, as PMG, and lastly, as CPMG. (to be continued)

Adjustment of Migrants: A Pioneering Effort

 

        Adjustment of Migrants: A Pioneering Effort

The Postal Department was the first to relocate part of the Circle Office to Jammu. Other Central Government Offices followed suit. The story of how it was done is told hereunder. K Diesh was replaced by N D Dayal as PMG. I was inspecting the Divisional Office, Jammu, when I received a telephone call from the then Secretary, Kailash Prakash. I requested that he speak with the PMG, who was incidentally sitting next to me. He used a few bad words and said, “ No, I want to talk to you only.” In fact, he did not like Dayal and considered him to be part of the Diesh lobby, which was working against him. He said to me, “Deepak, my son Amit Prakash is working for the Illustrated Weekly of India, and he has been asked to write a story on the situation in the Kashmir Valley. He will fly to Srinagar after three days. Please receive him. His mother has been crying ever since she heard it.”

I replied, “Sir, you don’t worry, I will hand him over to some guys known to the militants, and they will escort him wherever he wants to go.”

“Deepak, I hope you know what you are talking about.”

I realised that I should not have said what I said. But now that words had been uttered, I had to stand by them. I assured him that the guys I referred to are from the department and they have cordial terms with the people on the other side.”

“Okay, do what you think is proper. I want my son to be safe.”

I flew back to Srinagar, and Amit Prakash arrived on the specified day. Two postal officials were assigned the job of escorting him, and they carried him places in the downtown. In the evening, he returned, had some drinks and a sumptuous dinner. The next day, he was sent back by Indian Airlines to Delhi. As soon as I received the message of the aeroplane leaving Srinagar Airport, I called the Secretary and informed him, “Sir, your son has safely departed by air to Delhi, please let me know when he reaches.” 

After about two hours, Kailash Prakash rang me up and said, “Deepak, Amit’s mother and I are highly grateful to you. She is happy to see her son back. Amit was all praise for your hospitality.”

“Sir, these are small things in life. I wish him a bright future.”

“Deepak, can I be of any help to you?”

I paused for a moment. Remembered a story of Shri Bhat, who had cured Sultan Zainul Abedin Budshah, and was asked the same thing by the Sultan. Shri Bhat, in turn, requested him to resettle Kashmiri Pandits and allow those who were forcibly converted to return to the Pandit fold.” The Sultan granted his wish and issued the necessary orders. Taking a cue from that story, I requested the Secretary, “Sir, there is nothing I want for my person. But, Sir, if you can help my community, please do so. Sir, a large number of staff of the Circle offices have migrated to Jammu. We could open a part of the CO at Jammu and let them work there. Incidentally, out of nine divisions (Postal and logistical), only two are directly affected by militancy. The closure of CO has affected all the divisions. If a part of CO functions at Jammu, the work of all subordinate divisions can be streamlined. PMG can be posted in Jammu while I shall look after the residual office in Srinagar.”

He immediately grasped my viewpoint and told me, “Okay. Tomorrow morning, I shall meet the Minister, and by 10:30 AM, you will receive your orders. The next day, at exactly 10:30 AM, the P.S. to the Secretary rang me and read out the order, which was almost a one-liner saying, “Shri Deepak Kumar Budki, DPS, J&K Circle will hereafter work from Jammu as his headquarters.” I showed it to the PMG, who had returned to Srinagar. He ordered me to prepare a plan for the distribution of work between the Jammu and Srinagar wings, which was done smoothly during the night. The orders were issued, and the migrant staff in Jammu were asked to join the office immediately. I also flew to Jammu and tried to hire a building, but the quoted rent was beyond the financial powers of the PMG. Getting approval from the Directorate would mean a delay of at least 2-3 months. So I zeroed in on the RMS Office housed in a departmental building at the Jammu Railway Station, which had some spare space. I called all the staff to be deployed there and told them that due to paucity of space, they should not expect facilities as were available in Srinagar. Even the size of their tables was drastically reduced. All records of concerned branches were transferred gradually, utilising the services of the mail bus plying between Srinagar and Jammu. The most important branch of CO, which was shifted and proved very fruitful, was the PLI section. After establishing it in Jammu, the work of PLI increased multifold, and so did the efficiency. 

The arrangement worked well. The only question that remained was how to adjust the remaining migrant Officials from the operative offices. I discussed the matter with the PMG and called for the Options from such officials. Orders were issued to attach them to the POs near their present places of residence, but the salaries were to be drawn from the parent offices only. It was made clear that the migrant officials will not be considered transferred to the offices where they are attached and will work in a subordinate capacity, even if they are senior to the Postmaster in the SO attached to. These orders were made transparent in order there are no complaints from the local unions against them. The system came on rails slowly. This arrangement was emulated by the Telecom department, as also other Central Government departments. 

Another pressing problem that we faced was staffing post offices in the Kashmir Valley so that they do not suffer due to a shortage of manpower. A scheme was launched to send migrant staff back to the Offices periodically, where security cover was available, viz. GPO Srinagar, Anantnag HO, and Baramullah HO. Since many incentives had been announced by the Central Government in regard to staff working in the valley, many Postal migrants volunteered to go back to work in these post offices. Batches of such officials were sent by special buses escorted by security forces from Jammu to Srinagar, Anantnag and Baramulla. Initially, the batches were exchanged every three months, but later, it was noticed that migrant officials were reluctant to come back to Jammu or Udhampur and preferred to stay in the valley. The periodicity of sending batches of staff to the valley was accordingly increased. 

By and by, the conditions in the valley improved. Tourists started arriving, and the migrant staff started moving out of the secure premises, which had been prohibited earlier. My relations with N D Dayal remained cordial throughout. Though I was working in Jammu now, both of us remained in touch with each other regarding sensitive matters. However, the incident of Kailash Prakash did create some doubt in his mind. Fortunately, my constant reminders to the Directorate ensured two direct officers, V Pati and P S Negi, were posted, who really shouldered the work well. I, on my part, recommended some subordinated staff for the Meghdoot award, which was further sent by the PMG to the Directorate, and a few officers received it. Some were awarded at the Circle level by the PMG with Dak Sewa Awards. However, surprisingly, no PMG ever thought me worthy of such an award despite my facing the situation single-handedly for so long. Anyway, I did my duty to the best of my capability and have no regrets. ….(To be continued)  

 

Paralysis of Administration in the Valley

 

            Paralysis of Administration in the Valley

With the increase in the intensity of militancy in the valley since January 1990, things got out of control for the State  Administration. Postal Services and Banks were closed, there was no attendance in Central and State Government Offices, public transport was disrupted, and food supplies were received from outside the state by the local food and supplies department, control of which had been seized by the extremist elements who distributed it further as per their will. Some meetings were called for, but with no result. In one of the meetings at the beginning of the extremism, I remember that I accompanied the then PMG, Ved Kumar, who was a short, puny gentleman. While he was dressed in a formal suit, I, a six-footer, had put on a beige coloured safari suit. The guard at the entrance stopped me, saying, “Security men are not allowed into the hall.” Ved Kumar looked back and told them, “Bhai, he is our Director.” And that is how I got in with a wry smile on my face. 

It was unfortunate that many Officers were killed during the period, prominent among them were Musheer-ul-Haq, an Islamic Scholar and VC of Kashmir University, H L Khera, General Manager of HMT, Lassa Kaul, Director of Doordarshan and other Officers from the State Government. I recollect that only about a month earlier, Lassa Kaul, who was then Director, Radio Kashmir, a Director from the Staff Selection Commission and I had conducted an interview in the AIR, Kashmir premises. During the interview, a bomb was hurled at the gate of the AIR. I suspect the killing of Lassa Koul must have been an insider's job who must have informed the militants about his movements. He was a thorough gentleman, handsome and soft-spoken. With a military background, I anticipated the moves of the enemy, and therefore, restricted my movements, and as described earlier, shifted my entire office to the GPO complex. 

One by one, the post offices were targeted by the terrorists, either burnt or looted or threatened. Most of them were closed, though some of them were shifted to secure Head Offices. I approached the IG police, a Muslim gentleman, who, while discussing, objected to my saying Anantnag and said that it is Islamabad. Besides, he told me that the Department of Posts will have to bear the cost of the security personnel provided. He asked me to write down my requirements so that he could order the recruitment of further policemen and get them trained before posting them as per my requirements. I could gauge his attitude and slowly eased myself out, never to show him my face again.

Surprisingly, a lady officer, Indu Gupta, was posted as Director, Vigilance in Srinagar. It simply showed the apathy of the Directorate towards the conditions prevailing in Kashmir. I had been holding the charge of both Director (HQ) and Director Vigilance jointly till she reported. Now I had to look after her also. She did not know the environment, and in my absence, she rushed to Sathu, Barbarshah S O, which was ransacked by the militants. As I came to know about this on my arrival in the office, I immediately sent a vehicle and called her back. I explained to her the situation and advised her not to venture out of her office in any case. Slowly, she got scared seeing the situation for herself. She was living alone in the IQ, and one evening she had nothing to eat as markets were closed and she had not stored anything. So she came to our quarter, talked to my wife, who assured her not to worry till we are here. She had her dinner with us. They became good friends thereafter. Over a period of time, she managed her transfer out of the Circle.

I also received an order to attend a training course in IIPA, New Delhi during the said period, which further showed that the Directorate did not know about the ground reality in the Circle. There was no PMG, and I was alone at that time. I could have eased myself after handing over charge locally to some senior officer, but I preferred not to. On the contrary, I wrote to the DDG concerned, firstly, to cancel my orders, and secondly, not to send any Officer or staff member for training till the situation improves. 

However, I did feel concerned about my family and the education of my children. A few times, the processions returning from the UN Office stopped at Sheri Kashmir Park in front of GPO, and started throwing stones at the building inside the park. They ransacked it as well. It was a crowd of roughly a lakh of people. I thought to myself that if this crowd attacks the GPO, what will a small group of CRPF men do? How many rounds of fire can they fire to control the mob? The very thought sent shivers down my spine. I instantly resolved to send my family out of the valley. I told my wife to go to Shimla and try to get admission for the children in some reputed school there, and if possible, also seek employment there as a teacher. She showed reluctance by saying, “How can I leave you alone. I had to explain to her that this step was taken at least to save the lives of the children and not to hamper their education. She agreed and went to Shimla, but returned to Jammu, saying that only one school agreed but offered me a job as a warden, which I refused. Fortunately, by then, Burn Hall School, Srinagar, had opened a branch in Jammu titled St Peter’s Higher Secondary School and all children from the erstwhile Burn Hall School were admitted there. My wife also got a job there. 

The situation under Governor Jagmohan changed gradually. Things were slowly brought to near-normal, though the migration of Kashmiri Pandits could not be reversed. They are still languishing in Jammu and other places in the country, hoping that a day will come when they will be back in their homeland. One good thing that happened was that the Governor posted a Relief Commissioner, who distributed relief to the migrant Kashmiri Pandits who were not employed. In addition, tents, blankets and warm clothing were also distributed initially, and food items and milk were supplied thereafter. This was a great step for the rehabilitation of the migrants who were either accommodated in vacant schools and other office buildings or in camps at specified places in Jammu, Nagrota and Udhampur. In fact, the Kashmiri Pandits regard Jagmohan as a messiah for the work he did for their resettlement outside the Kashmir valley. (to be continued)

The Cup that Never Finished

 

                The Cup that Never Finished

Once K Diesh was settled in the Inspection Quarters (IQ), I started attending to my routine work. When Ved Kumar was in charge of the Circle, the Circle Office was located in a hired building belonging to the Auqaf at the foothills of Shankaracharya. Gradually, the situation started changing. Huge processions were seen on the streets carrying flags of different organisations and chanting slogans against India and in favour of freedom. Most of them passed by the side of our Office. In the meantime, a series of abductions and killings of many Central Government Officers were reported, which prompted me to stop going to the office. I organised the shifting of the office records to the GPO and reopened the office in the GPO premises. 

Another major development had taken place in the valley. On the intervening night of 19 and 20 January 1990, there was a massive uprising organised by the extremists on instructions from across the border. You could hear slogans on the loudspeakers of the mosques, which, besides seeking freedom, also threatened Kashmiri Pandits. Kashmiri Pandits were also dragged out of their homes to head the processions to provide human shields to the armed processions. This made them nervous, and almost instantly, they decided to leave the valley, abandoning their houses and material possessions. Our staff also left without seeking permission and took shelter in Jammu. Administrative Offices and Operative Offices, i.e. the Post Offices, wore a deserted look. 

The State Government imposed a curfew in the valley continuously for several months. Nobody was allowed to move, though some processions defied the curfew orders in the peripheral areas. During that period, I managed the office alone and had to issue transfer orders without any staff from the Circle Office (C.O.). No files were moved. I had recorded the names and current postings of all the staff whose postings were handled by the C.O. Some staff members took advantage of the situation, while others suffered due to the abnormal circumstances. However, things remained under control.  

Shockingly, the takeover by K Diesh as the Circle Head was more of a liability than an asset. I virtually shouldered all the responsibility myself. He had a penchant for flitting between Srinagar and Delhi, where his family resided. Meanwhile, in Kashmir, the postal operations had come to a halt, yet he would send false reports to the Directorate and inform them that the services were normal. A copy was also sent unauthorisedly to a fellow in the PMO named George, who was very close to the PM and was known to him. The ground reality was that only our mail vehicle used to ply between Srinagar Airport and GPO, and the suburban mail accumulated in the RMS and the GPO. However, during the hours the curfew was relaxed, some banking transactions were permitted to be carried out to mitigate the sufferings of the general public. Since many of our Town Sub-Offices had been closed for security reasons, some of them were restarted functioning as single counters in Offices like GPO Srinagar, HPO Anantnag, HPO Baramulla and SO Pulwama, where adequate security was available. 

Diesh was short in stature, agile and persuasive. He used to relate tales of his bravery when we sat together in the verandah of the IQ, as there was nothing much to do. During such casual conversation, he once remarked that Ved Kumar, his predecessor, was a timid clerk and not an officer at all. I could not bear it because I had learnt a lot from Ved Kumar when he was my boss. Anyway, I chose to remain silent and did not respond. He insisted I give my opinion. In a lighter mood, I said, “Sir, I cannot afford to deny what you said because I believe we bureaucrats are like prostitutes who are forced to say yes to the customer’s mannerisms till such time they foot the bill. Later, he is shown the door with disdain on their faces. Similarly, we bureaucrats agree with whatever our bosses say until they write our annual confidential report. And once it has been written, we can afford to speak the truth thereafter. He was tipsy, so he laughed and said, “Deepak, you are naughty.” He was a person who loved alcohol. I was not aware of this aspect of his personality. One day, I observed that while sitting and talking, he had a cup in front of him, apparently filled with tea. He called out to the caretaker and ordered tea for me as well. Periodically, he would get up and take his cup into his room and refill it. I thought over it and ultimately found that he would fill it with liquor in his room, though for strangers it looked as if it were tea. The cup remained on his table during office hours and was never finished. 

He decided to call on the Governor, Jagmohan, along with the Chief General Manager, Telecommunications. I beseeched him not to take the CGMT along with him, as we would get overshadowed by his presence but he did not listen. An appointment was granted. It so happened that the Governor complained about his personal telephones which often went dead, besides many other complaints from the public regarding telephone services. At the close, he asked us if we had a brief about our departmental problems which he needs to look into. I had fortunately prepared one and handed it over to Ved Marwah, the Governor’s Adviser. With that, we left the office. Back in GPO, some union members were standing there by chance. The Union Leader greeted the PMG, who reciprocated. Then he started bragging about his visit to the Governor. He told them that he apprised the Governor of how our postal staff are facing the situation bravely. He said, “I told him if bullets come our way, I will be the first person to take them on my chest.” Then he asked me to confirm what he said. I had no option but to affirm it with a smile on my face.

One day, when the GPO was open during the curfew relaxation hours, he saw a destitute woman begging in front of the rear gate on the bund side. He quickly rushed down, taking me along with him. He talked to the beggar woman and asked her in Hindi, “How much do you earn per day?” She replied, ‘By the grace of Allah, about ten rupees.” He took out a twenty-rupee note, gave it to her, and told her to go away. But she would not budge an inch. So he got annoyed and asked the CRPF jawan on duty to ensure she does not sit there in future. On our return to the IQ, he said to me, “Deepak, you don’t know. She is an ISI agent and works for the enemy country.” I simply kept quiet and did not reply. On another day, he saw two stout Iranian youth moving around in the GPO complex. He approached them and said in a loud voice, “What are you doing here, you terrorists?” They had come to collect their poste restante mail from the GPO, so it annoyed them and they were ready to fight. Before they could react, I called out a few staff members of RMS and asked them to take them away and give them their mail, if there was any. Things would have worsened but for my timely intervention. On another occasion, he called me from my residence late at night and took me to the RMS office. He started checking some mailbags and ordered the staff standing there to open them and show their contents. He suspected that the bags contained Charas (Drug), which was going out of the valley in connivance with the post office staff. The RMS staff was reluctant to obey as they had not closed the bags, but were only transit offices. Anyway, I convinced them that you may open and write in the error book the reasons for opening such bags while the PMG and DPS were present. 

One day, we were sitting in the verandah enjoying different teas, and an aeroplane flew by. He stood up and told me that he was informed by IGP (Security) that the terrorists had planted a bomb in its tail and it would be blown off at any time. I again did not answer and simply kept quiet. But I was wondering which IGP would be foolish enough to tell him, even if he were his friend and supposing the story was true, would the IGP let the aeroplane fly? Would he not stop it and get it evacuated? I had to bear his idiosyncrasies for so long he stayed as PMG J&K. Fortunately, he managed his transfer out of the Circle after a few months. He made one of his close friends in the Postal Service a scapegoat as the latter agreed to be posted as PMG J&K. (to be continued)