While it would be so simple to say that I went to Srinagar with a blank mind, it is not so. I went to Srinagar expecting bombs.. exploding on streets, empty streets, shops barely standing on the sidewalks. I went there expecting to not find women. Or to find them all covered up, scuttling to hide from all gaze. While you are told things are slowly moving back to 'normal', I never once expected 'normal' to be what I have back home in Bombay. I just expected to see a scene out of a Makhmalbaf film - beautiful, stark and painful. I was wrong.
It was our first day. Our job was to try and understand the youth of Srinagar better. I say Srinagar for the reality outside the valley town is different. We went up to two young men sitting at a table close to ours.. 'what the hell.. lets just walk up to them and have a conversation' said Paras. From then on it was just one conversation after another.
Suspicion was the first thing we had to face from just about everyone. As journalists we are so used to walking into a space and commanding respect, it was a first for me to be treated with so much disdain. But that's how it is in Srinagar. The media, they say, only works for its own advantage. 'It never reflects reality' we were informed. 'But we are not like that'.. Sure.. but the edit table is where many a reality is often chopped off. While I sat there defending my turf and my profession, I knew I would be sitting right there on the edit, chopping off most of these views. Not because I don't want to listen to them. Just lack of time. Cant deny that.
We sat speaking to the two young men till about 7.30 pm at Coffea Arabbiaca.. 'We had better leave or else it will get too late..' said Shahnawaz. 'My folks will start worrying' said Mehboob. 'Its not safe to travel home very late. Everything shuts down by 8 ish'... Terrorists??? 'No .. the military!'
The only thing the two young men sitting on the table wanted to know, ' will you tell people out there how the military treats us? Will you tell them how we are made to feel like culprits in our own supposedly free land? Why cant they be nice to us even if they have to stop us and frisk us? We don't hate the terrorists as much as we hate the military'
It was shocking at first go. Some youth said it with raised voices, some others were matter of fact about it.. But they all said it. In Bombay, where I come from and everywhere else in the country, one learns to idolize the military. There is almost a strange kind of aura associated with them. Try telling that to those young men.
We take our freedom to move about for granted. To move about without being stopped, shouted at, abused and frisked. I kept trying to get a picture of what they were telling us in my head. None would come. It just hasn't happened to me. I will scream bloody murder if someone as much accidentally put a hand on me. Instead if you have to bite your lip and stay quiet, while a CRPF jawan or an army wallah looks at you as the next terrorist in the making, it takes a lot to swallow pride and ego.
'The jawans on their part are just doing what they have been told to do, to view every kashmiri as a potential terrorist. They are just venting frustration born out of days away from family and home, in harsh conditions.' Jameel told me over dinner with his family. He is much older, about 45. Some of the youth understand this at some level. But they do not want to accept it lying down. When you ask them about their one big problem, this lack of freedom it is. They are angry about it. They rebel when they can. They rebel sometimes to keep sane. When they lose it, they either come home with bruises or decide to pack and leave the valley for good. Many others keep the anger simmering.
The youth who have moved away from the Kashmir valley have seen the world outside and have been able to walk freely without fear. There are many suchlike. And they want this freedom back home.
They want everything that they see in Bombay, Pune, Bangalore and Delhi - places most move to study and work. Many would prefer staying back in Kashmir if only they got the freedom to buy and wear what they like (which are expensive brands), stay out late, party, work and earn in a competitive environment and live. Fair enough I suppose. My days in Bombay never get over before midnight; sometimes later. Cannot imagine it any other way. If I want to turn in at 7 pm, I want it to be my choice.
Oh! Did I tell you! They love their mobile phones, 'a new rage' we were told. But the strange thing is they are not allowed to carry them to college. So the art lies in being able to smuggle them inside. The mobile phone is a necessary evil. 'Our parents are reassured.. we need it here.' In the absence of any kind of entertainment, the Internet is a boon and Orkut in particular, a welcome habit. Love happens post 7 pm through the mobile technology when the lights shut off in hangout places, which are not many. That perhaps explains the Airtel signboards all over. Companies, investments are coming in but the process is slow. Call centers are the new offices for many.
And what about movies? Well like you and me, Srinagar loves them too. But they watch it on pirated DVDs. With only one cinema hall in the city, there is no joy of watching Shahrukh Khan on the big screen with buttered popcorn. I stood outside the only theatre in Srinagar and imagined having a life in Bombay without the multiplex experience. Ha! Unthinkable.
Methinks I have just been plain spoilt. Sitting in Bombay, I for one have become disconnected from the world. Blood and gore is normal. Somewhere along I suppose I was romanticizing Kashmir in my head. Expecting beautiful yet painful images. Terrorism and Islam go together we hear all the time. We who consider ourselves rational, protest. What I was shocked to realize was that at some level it becomes ingrained in you. Just didn't quite like myself then, there in Srinagar. For having giving in to every kind of stereotype, that we claim to look beyond.first published:May 26, 2007, 12:32 ISTlast updated:May 26, 2007, 12:32 IST
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We walked straight into the coffee shop, Paras and I. Swanky, spacious, sweet smelling. Here I must confess that I was surprised.. It was like walking into a fancy, over priced bistro in Bombay. It was overpriced.
While it would be so simple to say that I went to Srinagar with a blank mind, it is not so. I went to Srinagar expecting bombs.. exploding on streets, empty streets, shops barely standing on the sidewalks. I went there expecting to not find women. Or to find them all covered up, scuttling to hide from all gaze. While you are told things are slowly moving back to 'normal', I never once expected 'normal' to be what I have back home in Bombay. I just expected to see a scene out of a Makhmalbaf film - beautiful, stark and painful. I was wrong.
It was our first day. Our job was to try and understand the youth of Srinagar better. I say Srinagar for the reality outside the valley town is different. We went up to two young men sitting at a table close to ours.. 'what the hell.. lets just walk up to them and have a conversation' said Paras. From then on it was just one conversation after another.
Suspicion was the first thing we had to face from just about everyone. As journalists we are so used to walking into a space and commanding respect, it was a first for me to be treated with so much disdain. But that's how it is in Srinagar. The media, they say, only works for its own advantage. 'It never reflects reality' we were informed. 'But we are not like that'.. Sure.. but the edit table is where many a reality is often chopped off. While I sat there defending my turf and my profession, I knew I would be sitting right there on the edit, chopping off most of these views. Not because I don't want to listen to them. Just lack of time. Cant deny that.
We sat speaking to the two young men till about 7.30 pm at Coffea Arabbiaca.. 'We had better leave or else it will get too late..' said Shahnawaz. 'My folks will start worrying' said Mehboob. 'Its not safe to travel home very late. Everything shuts down by 8 ish'... Terrorists??? 'No .. the military!'
The only thing the two young men sitting on the table wanted to know, ' will you tell people out there how the military treats us? Will you tell them how we are made to feel like culprits in our own supposedly free land? Why cant they be nice to us even if they have to stop us and frisk us? We don't hate the terrorists as much as we hate the military'
It was shocking at first go. Some youth said it with raised voices, some others were matter of fact about it.. But they all said it. In Bombay, where I come from and everywhere else in the country, one learns to idolize the military. There is almost a strange kind of aura associated with them. Try telling that to those young men.
We take our freedom to move about for granted. To move about without being stopped, shouted at, abused and frisked. I kept trying to get a picture of what they were telling us in my head. None would come. It just hasn't happened to me. I will scream bloody murder if someone as much accidentally put a hand on me. Instead if you have to bite your lip and stay quiet, while a CRPF jawan or an army wallah looks at you as the next terrorist in the making, it takes a lot to swallow pride and ego.
'The jawans on their part are just doing what they have been told to do, to view every kashmiri as a potential terrorist. They are just venting frustration born out of days away from family and home, in harsh conditions.' Jameel told me over dinner with his family. He is much older, about 45. Some of the youth understand this at some level. But they do not want to accept it lying down. When you ask them about their one big problem, this lack of freedom it is. They are angry about it. They rebel when they can. They rebel sometimes to keep sane. When they lose it, they either come home with bruises or decide to pack and leave the valley for good. Many others keep the anger simmering.
The youth who have moved away from the Kashmir valley have seen the world outside and have been able to walk freely without fear. There are many suchlike. And they want this freedom back home.
They want everything that they see in Bombay, Pune, Bangalore and Delhi - places most move to study and work. Many would prefer staying back in Kashmir if only they got the freedom to buy and wear what they like (which are expensive brands), stay out late, party, work and earn in a competitive environment and live. Fair enough I suppose. My days in Bombay never get over before midnight; sometimes later. Cannot imagine it any other way. If I want to turn in at 7 pm, I want it to be my choice.
Oh! Did I tell you! They love their mobile phones, 'a new rage' we were told. But the strange thing is they are not allowed to carry them to college. So the art lies in being able to smuggle them inside. The mobile phone is a necessary evil. 'Our parents are reassured.. we need it here.' In the absence of any kind of entertainment, the Internet is a boon and Orkut in particular, a welcome habit. Love happens post 7 pm through the mobile technology when the lights shut off in hangout places, which are not many. That perhaps explains the Airtel signboards all over. Companies, investments are coming in but the process is slow. Call centers are the new offices for many.
And what about movies? Well like you and me, Srinagar loves them too. But they watch it on pirated DVDs. With only one cinema hall in the city, there is no joy of watching Shahrukh Khan on the big screen with buttered popcorn. I stood outside the only theatre in Srinagar and imagined having a life in Bombay without the multiplex experience. Ha! Unthinkable.
Methinks I have just been plain spoilt. Sitting in Bombay, I for one have become disconnected from the world. Blood and gore is normal. Somewhere along I suppose I was romanticizing Kashmir in my head. Expecting beautiful yet painful images. Terrorism and Islam go together we hear all the time. We who consider ourselves rational, protest. What I was shocked to realize was that at some level it becomes ingrained in you. Just didn't quite like myself then, there in Srinagar. For having giving in to every kind of stereotype, that we claim to look beyond.
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