Protests in Jammu were a reaction to what happened in Kashmir.
It is thus, I believe, important to understand why Kashmir reacted the way it did.
For a start, there are two basic issues-that of identity and of recognition, that must be considered if one honestly seeks to understand the ‘people of kashmir’, keeping the biases aside.
Identity
I am a Muslim. I am a Kashmiri. Am I an Indian?
I envy the confidence with which Omar Abdullah asserted that he is one and that he did not see a problem with it. I wish I could say that too.
What is my identity? On what equation does a Kashmiri identity stand when juxtaposed with a Muslim and an Indian identity?
The question is not an easy one to answer. I have been looking for answers. I have been trying to discover my identity. Do I look for it in Islam, in the preamble of the constitution of India or just confine myself to Kashmiriyat? Or is it a blend of them? If it is indeed a blend, is there a hierarchy between them? If not, are they totally unconnected and/or mutually exclusive? Most of all, why am I faced with such questions?
I am facing a major crisis. The issue that I hold closest to my heart has been that of Kashmir. It is a tragedy that I do not have an opinion about it. However hard I might have tried.
Is the Kashmir problem a result of this confusion that I am also facing(if it indeed is, what is the reason for this confusion)?Is a majority of Kashmiris(if not just everyone) facing the same problem as I am? The picture that the past few decades have presented about us..undecided, confused, one moment for azadi, the other for Pakistan and yet another for India, is pathetic. Is this nature inherent in our genes? Is that what I am, a hypocrite?
There is one answer I do know. It is not in my genes. It is not in Our genes. We are not hypocrites. We want peace and we want democracy.
It is not the confusion that is the cause of the problem. It is the way Kashmir has been handled that has given rise to this confusion-of identity, which is inextricably linked to the fact of recognition, of recognition of the simple fact that Kashmir belongs to the people of Kashmir also and it is the people of Kashmir who belong there.
Recognition
I was born a Kashmiri. Something I have always been proud of and a fact that I cherish. Like any other individual, right thinking individual, I am terrified when I see what I see in Kashmir and have often thought about why the situation is so.
I do not propose to delve into any philosophical analysis of the problem. I only wish to bring forth one single experience of mine that shattered me as an individual(not just as a ‘Kashmiri Muslim’) and invoked the abovementioned and various other questions, some of which I find myself incapable of articulating .
I had just finished college and had invited my friends home. To Kashmir. Since I was the one who belonged to the place, they trusted me with the task of planning the trip. Morning of day 3 was booked for Shankar Acharya Mandir.
I was the early riser in the group. That day too, I woke up, offered my namaz and woke everyone up. I got into the drivers seat and set out.
I was really proud of being where I was. Each and every word of praise that I heard about Kashmir from my friends elated me so much as if it was me who was being praised. This was not to be.
There is a barricade about 3 kms before the temple. We were stopped, like all other cars. I stopped and greeted the ‘army wala’. Still proud of the fact that I was in my motherland. Her beauty was still captivating despite the years of turmoil.
The ‘army wala’ asked us where we were headed. I answered. He asked me who the ‘local’ were. I, swollen with pride, declared it was me and a cousin of mine who was sitting behind. All the pride, the self worth, a sense of belonging, the identity, was reduced to ashes when the ‘army wala’ ordered-dono niche utar jao.
It was the two of us who were frisked. The others, my friends, my hindu friends, received a warm greeting and the army wala waved them off with a smiling face.
It was their turn to be proud. I was shattered. Was it not I who belonged to the place?
I needed recognition. I needed respect. I needed the army wala-the state, to, at least, acknowledge the fact that I belonged to the place. The least I needed was to be treated at par with my friends. I have not been at peace ever since. The incident has left a deep scar on my soul. The greater tragedy however is that I see no signs of it healing-not now, not any time in the future.
One can not be but amazed at the linkage between the two incidents. Of Amarnath and of Shankar Acharya. Of a Muslim driving his Hindu friends. But it is the third aspect of the similarities that needs introspection.
It is the problem of recognition and assertion. Perhaps, everyone is not a coward like me. There are some people who would risk their lives to give it back to the ‘army wala’. I could not. I regret. Pehaps some years of living in kashmir would instill that courage in me(I must clarify that ‘give it back’ does not necessarily imply violence.It takes more courage to lodge a non violent protest-just as the Mahatma did)
It is not the mere fact of land transfer, in vacuum, devoid of any history that is causing havoc. It is a million incidents of dissimilar treatment like the one I faced en route Shankar Acharya Temple that build up a psyche. It is this fact that needs to be taken care of.
To say the least, WE also want a right to live with ‘human dignity’.
(The topic derives its name from the book of the same name authored by Amartya sen)