Media and News, the most unreliable words in the Kashmiris vocabulary

रेखा पाल एक पेशेवेर पत्रकार हैं. रेखा ने हाल ही में धारा 370 हटने और कोरोना काल के प्रतिबंध कम होने के बाद कश्मीर की यात्रा की है. रेखा ने अपने दिलचस्प अनुभव हिलांश के साथ साझा किए हैं. ये पहली कड़ी है. रेखा पाल की कश्मीर यात्रा की अगली किश्त जल्द हिलांश पर पब्लिश होगी.

To taste one of the most special things of Kashmir in that wooden-walled restaurant near Dal, was itself a feeling of discrete pleasure. Kahwah really is an amazing drink. But where did it come from, in Kashmir? This I don't know, but about pheran, I have certainly read somewhere, that this outfit had been introduced by Badshah Akhbar in Kashmir. If you want to have a gala time in Kashmir, it is requisite to not be just a vegetarian otherwise, you won't be able to relish meat and the other delicious dishes, of this place properly. Here, there is a glut of meat dishes in order to keep the body warm in an icy-cold Kashmir. Plus there are many restaurants in Srinagar that serve the finest and classy delicacies.

The climate here is such that you won't be able to survive, without eating meat. At least, I won't. Just after landing in Kashmir, Faiz had taken us to have breakfast. And since we were still full, so we were heading straight to our hotel now. The behavior of Kashmiris with the tourists is incredible. They know that as long as tourism continues, there will be no deficit of food at their homes. After all, a major chunk of Kashmir's revenue comes from tourism only. As we entered the hotel we got very happy. The decorations of the hotel rooms, lobby, and reception were such as if they were waiting for us only. Undoubtedly, it was one of the most beautiful places in Srinagar town, which was booked by my ‘Prabhu’.

If a person wants to conjoin the pristine natural beauty of Kashmir with his own eyes or in the camera, his entire life will prove to be short. There is so much diversity, so much beauty everywhere on this land that to see it all, one life is not enough.

I saw pictures of poplar leaves, paintings, walnuts, and furniture made of poplar wood, all of that was extremely fantastic. There were beautifully carved pots everywhere. When we arrived back at the hotel, we were a little exhausted, but we had not come here to get locked in our room after covering such a long distance. So, after resting for a while and refreshing ourselves, we set out back on the streets of Kashmir.

Faiz first took us to Nishat Garden. This garden was built by Asif Khan, the elder brother of Noor Jahan, wife of the Mughal ruler Jahangir, in the year 1633. Kashmir is also famous for its beautiful gardens. Nishat Bagh is very beautiful and a quiet place for a walk. In the garden, whenever a Kashmiri (with innocence on his face) asks me - 'Madam, where have you come from?', so it seems how anyone could complain from life. Then I get reminded, that these Kashmiris have a lot of complaints. They have complaints- from the politicians, from the army, from the media, and perhaps even from the countrymen- who do not come to Kashmir to meet such beautiful and lovely people. Yes, they do have complaints with all of us. And these complaints feel a hundred percent right in many places. After seeing the kind of Kashmir's blueprint that the government has woven before our eyes, complaints become inevitable.

Generally, you will see groups of 4-5 people talking in the gardens and on the streets. Seeing from far, every time it will appear as if some kind of argument is going on, but when you will pass by them, you will come to know that they are actually been discussing the weather, tourism, business, family, their livelihood, and political situation. For entering the garden, buying a ticket is mandatory. As long as my ‘Prabhu’ was busy buying tickets, I was sitting there watching people come and go.

Suddenly, an arrogant-looking Uncle, who was drinking tea interrupted me. He was sipping his tea very seriously, on seeing me he asked - 'Daughter have you just got married?' as an answer, I just nodded agreeing. He further said - "it's nice, that you guys came here to visit." Otherwise, politicians have left no stone unturned, to ruin our Kashmir. The beauty of this valley is the grace of God and our only means of earning... But it seems as if they will not let us do this either!

I found uncle very interesting. Hence, our series of conversations started from here. Actually, seeing my hands full of bangles he had guessed that I got married recently. Because I was married, I was wearing all marriage symbols- Bangles, vermillion, bindi, etc. At once I realized... Oh! How easy it is to identify anyone in India.

I further continued my chat with the uncle. In a very sad tone, he said, "People are threatened and intimidated so that no one would come here. In one way, these people have tied our hands and feet. Also, they open and shut down the city as per their liking. Who does that, beta…? If all this will continue to happen, then how our children will move forward in life, how will they be able to fulfill their dreams? They sent their children abroad to study, earned money through illegal ways but have imprisoned us without any reason. And now look, the government is creating a buzz in the name of the corona.” Uncle was expressing his grief when I (obstructing him in between) said- 'It's absolutely true, uncle. Corona has literally created havoc in the world. Many people have died to date because of this. Don't you see news on TV?" Probably, I have had touched the wrong pulse. 'Media and News'- these two words blasted like a bomb in uncle's ears.

The uncle who was appearing serious till now became furious all of a sudden and in a fit of anger said, - These media people broadcast anything without even checking the facts. Whatever we are facing today, they are equally responsible for that. We do not trust media at all. They call us terrorists. You tell me beta, 'Do I look like a terrorist?' When uncle was saying all this, some army vehicles passed by us. Seeing them uncle grumbled in rage- 'see, again they will catch someone, beat him badly, throw him into jail and then announce him as a terrorist.’ Uncle's these words had pierced deep into my heart. From childhood to the present, I have read many stories of the struggle between the army and the commoners in Kashmir.

In short, all I can say is that Kashmir is that part of the world that never has had peace in its fortune. Every day, TV reports and newspapers are full of news of violence and conflicts in Kashmir. In such a situation, uncle's anger was totally justified in its place. But on the contrary, I was thinking about my Dad, who had dedicated his entire youth to the army. I have always seen him devoted to protecting the Kashmiri people.

I wanted to silence him at that time. I wanted to tell him that the army is for your protection only. So why are you saying all this? My father was also in the Indian Army. And he spent the golden days of his life either safeguarding Kashmiri people or securing the Indian borders. They all think of your good.' I wanted to tell him all, but before I could do so, he passed a silent smile and said, - 'you know nothing, beta. The government that rules in Delhi has the government under its wardship in Kashmir too. Everything runs at the behest of the same people. All are interlinked. It is like a spider web, where one link goes on connecting with the other. These people’….uncle was about to say something that I heard the loud voice of my ‘Prabhu’ which was coming from behind. When I turned, I saw him struggling to get inside the garden with tickets in hand.

I had no other choice but to exclude this ongoing chit-chat right here and go. Though I didn't want to, still I bid him goodbye and left. Now, whatever the implications you draw out of this conversation... But for me, there was truth and weight both in his talks. During the discourse, one thing was very clear that the image of Delhi media is not positive at all in the eyes of the Kashmiris. The extent to which Delhi media has been exposed in the past few years has probably never happened before. I was utterly immersed in all these thoughts that my eyes fell on the gate of Nishat Garden.

To be continued...