The struggle: From darkness to light

It began in Kashmir. Year was 1989. 

My family was well versed, running hotels, owning walnut trees, agriculture land and schools across Kashmir. I had 4 uncles and 2 aunts. Everything was going well. 

My father casually planned to visit his friend in Delhi. My elder brother, my mom, my father and myself sat on a train from Srinagar to New Delhi. It was night time and there was a unusual smell of fear in the air. Predicting the future is a difficult task. In the background, things were not going well in the city. Two days ago, a lawyer was murdered by the militants in his home in Srinagar and one of the prominent muslim leader (hindu supporter) was killed by militants in my mother’s village as well. Srinagar-based newspaper and muslims with loud speakers released messages, threatening all Hindus to leave Kashmir immediately. Not completely aware of the ground situation we decided not the change our plan to visit my father’s friend in Delhi. Must have been a long journey as back in our homeland things moved very fast. Walls were pasted with posters with threatening messages. Offices buildings, shops, and establishments were colored green. Shops, factories, temples and homes of Kashmiri Hindus were burned or destroyed. By the time we reached Delhi “everything” changed. During the middle of the night of 18 and 19 January, a blackout took place in the Kashmir Valley where electricity was cut except in mosques which broadcast divisive and inflammatory messages, asking for a purge of Kashmiri pundits. Lawlessness took over the valley and the crowd with slogans and guns started roaming around the streets. News kept coming of violent incidents and those Hindus who survived the night saved their lives by traveling out of the valley.

We were in Delhi and came to know that Kashmir’s are fleeing to Jammu and other parts of the country. Our life was safe in Delhi but our history was being wiped out Kashmir.

We could only rely on news and they were all not good. We completely lost our touch with our family in Kashmir. No phone calls no letters, nothing. 

My father decided to atleast try to get back, look for his family, his roots. He went to Jammu and tried to cross Jawahar tunnel, only to find out he couldn’t. We back in Delhi waited for him only hoping for him to comeback. We were at my father’s friend home, who was a very helpful and compassionate man. Those day’s of hoping of our father to comeback from Kashmir were the darkest of all. My mom stood by us at that time like our father. But since he couldn’t cross the tunnel and only way to his home, my father decided to come back to us. I couldn’t imagine how difficult it would have been for my father and my mother to digest the fact that were left with nothing. My brother and myself were not of the age to understand what has happened. We stayed at our father’s friend house for few more days. Then my father decided to move to Jaipur where we were promised some help from a political party. We went to Jaipur where we were given a room to live and some money to arrange for food. We couldn’t be more thankful for that support. Though completely broken, my father was an iron hearted man. He did not loose it and always looked towards the light even in extreme dark. In addition to giving us food he decided to use the money to get me and my brother to school. He knew that if we have to get back on our feet, education is the best tool. We went to many schools for admission and rejected by many. One day when we were at one the school for admission, the principal of the school noticed my father when he was speaking English. He asked my father if he can join the school as teacher in addition to us getting admitted there. It was an offer we couldn’t refuse. It must have been a much relief for my father. Though there was still no news of our family in Kashmir. Life started to move. But struggles were welcoming us on every path. One day we received a FIR from Kashmir police that our home back in Kashmir was burnt. We had now no hope to come back and we continued staying in Jaipur. My father started tuitions, riding bicycle for more than 7 hours a day and this continued for another 12 years.

My father got me and my brother admitted to colleges in Rajasthan. I stayed with my brother in a room in Jaipur where we used to cook our own food, study and sleep. We finally completed our graduation and started looking for jobs. My father moved back to Delhi. We started our job. We now know that our family also survived. Couldn’t imagine of their struggles. Now I am in Hong Kong and my brother is Dubai, both married and earning well, supporting our father but we couldn’t do what he did for us. We are living away from him is another sacrifice that has helped us move from the dark to the light.

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