BASHIR ASSAD
LIKE a lamb caged with 15 hungry lions, I covered my face with my hands just to pray for some miracle to happen which alone could save me from these beasts. There were some prominent Jamaat leaders of Anantnag and Kulgam (Kulgam was still a part of the Anantnag District) which included Abdul Rashid Chehlan who, if I recall correctly, was the Ameer e Zilla (district president of Jammat-e-Islami at that time), Gulzar Monkanpuri, Muhammad Amin Naqasbandi, Rashid Tarigami, Muhammad Abdullah Wagay of Rampuri village and many more who I could not identify. Right in the corner was sitting (as I was told) Shamsul Haqu, the supreme of Hizbul Mujahideen. Haqu was reciting The Quran when I was forced into the room. He didn’t raise his eyes. There were around 150 militants guarding the supreme commander in the village. The village, I was told, was called Srundoo. The militants were manning the village from all directions. Some 10 to 12 militants, armed with sophisticated weapons, had surrounded the small single-storey house where Shamsul Haqu was putting up. Adjacent to this small single-storey house was a three-storeyed house. The house owner may have been the richest man in the village. The house looked elegant and aesthetic. Actually Habibullah Jeelani, lecturer with the School Education Department, famously known in militant circles as Professor Habibullah Jeelani from Chhee village in the outskirts of Anantnag District headquarters, and Professor Ghulam Hasan Shah of Brakpora Village in the north of Anantnag town and I were brought to Srundoo last night. We were kept on the third floor of the mammoth house in a big well-furnished hall. The house owner too was a government teacher, I was told by Jeelani.
It was the time when Hizbul terrorists would go on a rampage, killing hundreds of militants of other militant organisations, particularly Al-Jehad and JKLF. A day prior to my captivity, more than 15 militants of Al-Jehad were killed by Hizbul Mujahideen militants in group clashes somewhere in the forest area above Mattan in the east of Anantnag town. And Jamaat-e-Islami leaders and workers were very happy that day. Killing militants of other outfits was like establishing caliphate for Hizbul Mujahideen. I had gone to Anantnag town, which is 12 kilometres from my native place, towards south. Since the spilling of blood on the streets was very painful, I could not hide my anger. Professor Ghulam Hasan Shah, though a Jamaat member himself, was equally disturbed over such dastardly acts of Jamaat-e-Islami backed Hizbul Mujahideen but was hesitant to speak up, fearing reprisal from the Hizbul and Jamaat. The Jamaat and Hizbul were dominant. Nobody could dare speak against whatever they were doing. They were on a killing spree. For them, anyone and everyone who was not ideologically on their side, didn’t deserve mercy. They would kill people on mere suspicions, political affiliation and particularly those who had taken a stand against them during peace times before 1990. From north to south, east to west, there was just one Jamaat leader, just one Muhammad Sultan Bhat Advocate (my father-in-law) who had the courage to stand and speak against the butchery of Jamaat and Hizbul. Muhammad Sultan and I would loudly and vociferously denounce killings of civilians on any pretext. I was a little more aggressive. I would never hesitate in taking my ideas to the streets. I would publicly address the people in the streets, schools, colleges and even mosques and denounce the killing of civilians. Muhammad Sultan would denounce such acts during Friday prayers in Khiram Hazratbal Shrine. I, however, went too far.
At one point in time, I invited Hizbullah militants from Tral area of Pulwama districts to guard the village elders who were on the list of suspects of Hizbul Mujahideen. Actually I met one Abul Rashid of Dadsara Tral in Kashmir University who was an employee there. Rashid, I got to know, was at a very important position in Hizbullah outfit and at the same time, was a strong opponent of Jamaat in Tral. I asked Rashid to deploy a couple of gunmen to Marhama who would stand as a symbolic guard for the village elders against Hizbul Mujahideen. Rashid readily agreed and sent two militants to Marhama. The village elders would feel psychologically safe when the two Hizbullah militants were roaming in the village. It was symbolic but huge. The Hizbul militants would demand money from the village elders at gun-point. I summoned a meeting of all those political workers and elders of Marhama village and encouraged them not to pay ransom to Hizbul Mujahideen. The trick did work. Political workers, former panches and sarpanches and followers of non Jamaat-e-Islami religious groups from other villages would now seek my advice on how to defy militant diktats and refuse to pay ransom. However, it was very short-lived. Soon Hizbul Mujahideen, rather than going after villagers, chose me as their target. Jamaat-e-Islami, right from Sayed Ali Geelani down to village level workers, were after my blood. For them, my killing would automatically kill the resilience of Muhammad Sultan Bhat also. It was killing two adversaries with one bullet.
So, on that day, I had gone to Anantnag to meet some friends. We were sitting at a tea-stall just outside the district court premises, engaged in a meaningful conversation. It was perhaps five in the evening. All of a sudden, a pheran-wearing militant, hiding his gun inside the pheran, put his hand on my shoulder from the back. Very gently, he whispered in my left ear, “Ameer-e-muhtaram ne aapko bulaaya hai, kuch aur logoon ke saath (supremo Shanmsul Haq has summoned you and a few others)”. Before I could respond or say something, my friends got up quietly and left the tea-stall without even looking at me. “Okay, let’s move,” I finally told the militant. As I stepped out of the tea-stall, I saw Professor Shah and Jeelani on the other side of the road, surrounded by four-five militants. The militant escorting me, signalled to cross the road and walk up to the other abductees. I was surprised over how they got to know that I was in Anantnag in those times when there were no mobile phones and no internet. Anyways, I was not able to figure out till my eyes caught the glimpse of a Jamaat worker (name withheld) of my village, standing 100 metres from us, making some unusual gestures.
Here Professor Shah found some courage and asked the militants, “Aap hamein address batayein, main aapko yaqeen dilaata hoon hum teenoon wahaan pahunchenge, aise zaleel karke mat le jaao hamein (Please tell us where to reach, I assure you we will come by ourselves but don’t humiliate us like this)”. The leader of the group, to my surprise, agreed readily and gave us the address. There was no traffic, it was already 6 pm. Those days, the streets would wear a deserted look even before the evening would set in and traffic would come to a halt.
(What happened next? Well, wait for our next edition!)
