“Living In A Graveyard” Of Dark Nights And Militarized South Kashmir Photographs by Umer Asif Shams Irfan T he masked trooper, after checking Mr. Asif’s car directed him to hand over the keys and leave. “He said it so plainly that I couldn’t react for almost a minute,” Mr. Asif recalled. “But the soldier was adamant.” The trooper wanted Mr. Asif to leave his car with the army officials and travel the rest of the distance to the Shopian town, around two kilometres, on foot. When Mr. Asif resisted, he recalled, the trooper told him plainly: “You seem to be an educated person, so you should know it is mandatory.” All of a sudden stories of army troopers forcibly taking over civilian vehicles for anti-militancy operations began flashing in Mr. Asif’s mind. The only difference was that the trooper was addressing him politely. Five minutes later Mr. Asif was sure that he could not reason it out with the trooper. He got down from his car, took out the registration papers and other important documents before he handed over the keys politely. “I knew I could not argue beyond a point. It was not safe,” he said. “Besides it was already getting dark and lonely.” Mr. Asif informed the local Deputy Commissioner, immediately. “What if my vehicle would have been used in an anti-militancy operation? Who would have trusted me then?” he said. It was after DC’s intervention that his vehicle was released the following morning. Several residents from different villages of Shopian allege that the troopers from the Chowgam garrison usually take their vehicles for a period of two to three days. Mr. Asif said that after August 2019, the army is more frequently taking away vehicles from residents. The army’s official spokesperson Colonel Rajesh Kalia, however, denied the allegations. “No vehicle is being used forcibly and the civil vehicles are hired and payment is made as per the SOP,” he said. It didn’t take long before residents of Shopian and its adjoining villages came to know about such incidents. The Chowgam garrison quickly earned notoriety and became a no-go zone for civilians travelling in their private vehicles after sunset. When 35-year-old Mr. Hazik, a Shopian based lawyer and his friends came to know about Mr. Asif’s experience, they stopped visiting Hurpura, a nearby tourist resort famous among the locals. One has to cross Chowgam garrison to reach Hurpura. “It is risky now,” said Mr. Hazik who used to visit Hurpura with friends in free time.“Slowly, our space is shrinking because of heavy militarization in the area.” T he process of re-militarisation in south Kashmir started with the killing of popular militant commander Burhan Wani in 2016. Dozens of new makeshift bunkers and also some camps came up overnight in populated areas and on the major roads on South Kashmir. Feeling this, residents from the four districts in South - Pulwama, Shopian, Anantnag and Kulgam, claimed that the free movement of people to their orchards, between villages, towns and districts has become a daunting task. “It is not [just] about taking the vehicle. The problem is the way they have normalized it,” said a Shopian resident, Basit, who gave only his first name. His vehicle was also taken by the Chowgam garrison. “They (troopers) talk to you as if you are legally bound to do so.” In the last week of March this year, a business administration student in Kulgam, 23-year-old Shadab, was allegedly thrashed and made to sit on a rock for two hours by a paramilitary trooper as punishment for going out on his motorbike after sunset. “Life comes to a standstill as the sun goes down here,” he said, adding that it was only after a local police officer’s intervention that he was allowed to go home. The incident has left Mr Shadab traumatised. “They could have simply fined me or asked local police to take action against me if I had broken any law,” he said. “But treating someone like that is not done.” Mr. Shadab said that he felt alive whenever he I was still half asleep when I came face-toface with lots of soldiers in our lawn. I was very scared... The helplessness I felt at that time cannot be explained in words. We were locked inside our own house, [the] uncertainty of our fate.” visited his friends in Srinagar city. “At least I can roam outside without the fear of getting humiliated or beaten,” he said, miffed at the difficulties of life in Kashmir’s southern districts. In Kulgam, Mr. Shadab said that he lives in a state of constant fear. “Imagine we cannot keep lights on and study beyond 10 PM. Lights often attract trouble,” he said. As the night falls, he feels anxious as if he is “living in a graveyard”. However, compared to what others of his age group, most in early twenties, go through on a daily basis in small nondescript and forgotten villages, Mr. Shadab considers himself lucky. However, not everybody felt the same. Mr. Tariq, a resident of Pulwama, was returning home on his scooty, after attending a function in Shopian when he was stopped by army troopers at the Bundzoo Bridge near Haal village in
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