For border villages in J&K, it's never a 'war-like' situation - it's war

Shahnawaaz died in vain.

His death last winter did not affect anyone except his family. He languished for four months, in a hospital in Jammu city, far away from home and the terraced fields familiar to him, before he passed away, all of 13 years of age. Not many came asking for him when he lay in the hospital.

He was seen as yet another victim of Pakistani shelling but he was more than that. He was Shahnawaaz Khan from the beautiful mountain village of Darati, in Jammu province, with ruddy cheeks, sturdy of stock and a spirit which a 80mm mortar cannot break. I had promised to always remember him by his name and always ask the hard questions for him.

Almost a year later, an angelic 14-month-old, Pari, lies in the same hospital where Shahnawaz lay last year, with a grievous injury to her back which required a major surgery.

I have thought of what Shahnawaz was doing when the mortar shell that snuffed his life out hit him. In my mind, he was playing with his friends, his last moments joyous and carefree.

For Pari, I do not have to imagine because she, I read, was with her cousins Rishabh and Abhi, five and seven years old, probably dressed in her best clothes for the festive occasion of Bhai Dooj.

As soon as these young children sat down for the ritual, a mortar shell fell on them, leaving Pari unconscious and instantly killing her two young cousins. Pari, along with her injured parents, is in a city hospital, having undergone a major surgery.

In the images of her desolate family home which lost four members, one can see a forlorn courtyard, with a dusty red toy car, waiting for the return of laughter and play.

Pari caught the media's attention but there are many families who suffer in silence, and many a Shahnawaz who remain unseen and unspoken of.

Jammu and Kashmir is a border state and it's been in a state of war since the last 70 years. As per the ministry of home affairs, India shares 3,323km of land border with Pakistan, which includes the Line of Control in J&K, besides the International Border.

This border runs along the states of Gujarat, Rajasthan, Punjab and J&K. Of the total 3,323km India-Pakistan border, one-third, that is 1,225km, runs through J&K alone.

The extensive coverage of the borders within the state gets reflected from the fact that of the 22 total districts of J&K, border runs through ten.

Of these, five districts fall in Jammu region - Jammu, Samba, Kathua, Rajouri and Poonch. Both the districts of Ladakh - Leh and Kargil - are border districts. In Kashmir, border runs through three districts: Budgam, Baramulla and Kupwara.

Jammu region has been witnessing conflict, migration and instability on its borders since 1947. Amongst India's border areas, why has this particular region seen, and continues to see, the worst situation, is a valid question raised by its inhabitants. Even after the ceasefire agreements, there have only been short periods of peace. The borders have remained extremely vulnerable.

The volatile India-Pak relations mean that the people of the border villages live on tenterhooks. Besides the four wars that have been fought, there has never been security of life and livelihood even during peace times. In fact, the term "peace times" is misleading and does injustice to the villages in the line of fire.

The rest of the nation has forgotten these villages on the front lines, standing between them and the 120mm mortar shells, since the last seven decades. The border villages always live in the shadow of uncertainty and fear. The only constant in their lives is different degrees of destabilisation due to cross-border tensions and fears of militancy.

Socio-psychological impact

The social and psychological impact of the ongoing conflict is manifolds. The small joys of life are missing or short-lived. As the rest of the nation celebrated Diwali, with five and seven year olds Abhi and Rishabh gone in a few seconds, we did not have much to celebrate in Jammu region.

With Pari having lost her aunt, her two kid brothers, and her grandfather, there can be no revelry. Pari is also the daughter of an Army jawan who was home on holiday and now is recovering from leg injuries due to the mortar shell attack.

Images of him, distraught and being carried physically by family members, to the funeral grounds where his father was being cremated, are heartbreaking. They are especially poignant since we, as a state, do not respect our men in uniform.

We do not recognise the achievements or the supreme sacrifice of our jawans. We were not even quick to announce any monetary compensation for the Uri martyrs. For Jammu region, which has men from almost every village in the armed forces, it is not only demotivating, but discourages the nationalistic spirit of the people of this region, and their age-old tradition of service and sacrifice for their homeland.

When there are reports of children sitting down to give their tests due to fears of mortar shells being fired and sounds of war in the air, the stress levels and anxiety remain high, altering behaviours. Social interactions are affected as people avoid getting their daughters married into families living in border villages.

When a woman and her daughter-in-law died in Poonch this month, leaving a young family without any elderly woman, the impact on the family structure was irreparable.

When families have to relocate and there are mass migrations at least three to four times in a year, the quality of life is impacted tremendously.

Many villages have houses with windowless rooms to avoid that stray bullet and the guns never fall silent in the not so distant horizon.

Economics of war

Ceasefire violations in the last few years are known to intensify during festive and harvesting seasons. The mainly agricultural border population suffers heavy economic losses. With the firing starting just around the harvesting time, it chases away the labour working in the fields. The shells lying on the farmlands makes them inaccessible.

The hard work during the crop cycle, which lasts for six months, is a farmer's labour of love and hope, but farmers in fertile, Basmati-growing areas like RS Pura and Bishnah, are never sure if they will be able to reap the crop they sow.

Education

More than 300 schools were closed in Jammu province recently, due to cross-border firing. When children of the border villages start a new school year, they are not certain of finishing it without any major disruptions.

When a border village like Mangu Chak, in Samba district, has poor transport facility, making it difficult for the children to travel to the nearest town for secondary education, it is symptomatic of the poor development and infrastructure in the smaller and interior villages on the border.

The lack of opportunity for higher education and better lifestyle is not restricted to one generation but is inter-generational.

The sense of neglect is deep-seated in the villages around the border due to the lack of attention of government officials, politicians, and even their fellow citizens. Though it is despairing to see the image of Pari lying unconscious on a hospital bed bandaged, bloodied and with needles and tubes sticking to her, perhaps a known name or face meeting the child will raise awareness about the plight of our border residents and  shake our collective conscience.

The construction of thousands of bunkers as a solution to this issue, is indicative of a policy-making which is myopic in its vision. Rhetoric and bold statements of retaliation from the Centre has not brought any change in this decades-long pattern of conflict.

The patriotic jingoism and celebrations on Independence Day sound discordant to the residents of the border villages, for they do not enjoy the rights of any normal citizen in an independent nation.

A nation is responsible for providing safety and security to its citizens and it has clearly failed to do so for our people on the borders.

Would we sit through this year after year in any other metropolis? Is the value of human life any less in Jammu and Kashmir?

The suffering is decades old, yet we cannot make it our new normal. It is a travesty of justice, of the right to live safely and the right to a livelihood.

When we call the situation "war-like", we play with semantics and avoid the hard truth staring at us. We lack the spine and honesty to call it what it is - a war. In doing so, we insult and alienate those people who say'"Goli kaara tak pujdi ae" (The bullets reach our homes).

People have been living in a state of war for 70 years in Jammu and Kashmir. Maybe when we develop the courage and the sensitivity to see and call it for what it is, we may lose the apathy and work towards a permanent solution with a sense of urgency it rightly deserves.

Also read: How conflict affects Kashmiri women