‘In the end it’s a Kashmiri who dies’: A village in Bandipora mourns a policeman and an ironworker

On Friday morning, two fresh graves were laid under the shade of a chinar in Ashtengoo village’s graveyard. One was of an ironworker who fell to security force’s bullets, while the other was of a policeman who was killed by separatist militants.

Two funerals were held on Friday, one in the morning and then another one in the afternoon. A shutdown was observed in Bandipora and, by evening, the village, in north Kashmir’s Bandipora district, 60 kms from Srinagar, was engulfed in silence.

The families of the dead men have houses on either sides of the village’s main mosque. Tents were pitched in both houses, as men and women gathered to offer condolences to inconsolable family members.

A day before, on Thursday evening, within the span of an hour, the village received the news of the death of two of its residents in Srinagar – two separate incidents claimed the lives of these two residents of Ashtengoo.

Killed for no reason

On Thursday, Ghulam Mohiuddin, who had returned from the evening prayers after a day of fasting, was interrupted by his younger son as he was having a cup of tea. His elder son, Naseer Ahmad Sheikh, had been shot when personnel of the Sashastra Seema Bal opened fire on stone pelters near Rangreth in Srinagar.

Mohiuddin, along with his younger son and a neighbour, immediately left for Srinagar, without informing anyone else at home or in the village. By the time they reached the hospital, Sheikh, in his mid-20s, was in the operation theatre. At 1.30 he was declared dead.

“My soul had left my body when I heard that,” Mohiuddin said, holding back his tears. “I could not even speak to him one last time. My wish to speak to him remained unfulfilled.”

Eyewitnesses told Sheikh’s family that he had been killed while he was exiting a lane that led to the spot of stonepelting. “Someone pelted stones, and someone else paid for it,” Mohiuddin said in anger. “India makes tall claims of being secular, of being a democracy. My son was innocent, do you think I will ever forgive India?”

Sheikh, who had studied till class 10, worked with a construction company in Bandipora before moving to Srinagar this year for better employment prospects. He had been married for one year. Sheikh’s body was brought to the village a little before dawn on Friday and the funeral prayer was held at 8 am.

Mourners from Ashtengoo and nearby villages raised slogans against India, and demanding azadi.

“I have three more children,” Mohiuddin said. “I will teach them to not stop agitating, remind them that their brother was killed innocent, for no reason, for no fault of his”.

‘Why should anyone die?’

On the other side of the main mosque, the home of Constable Shazad Dilawar Sofi bore a similar sullen mood. His family, unlike the Sheikh’s across the road, are tight lipped with their emotions. Anti-India and azadi slogans were heard at Sofi’s funeral as well, but the family say they did not know who shouted them or why.

Sofi was killed when separatist militants fired upon a police party near Srinagar’s Hyderpora, close to the airport. His cousin, Abdul Qayoom, said that there was anger over his killing. “We can’t say who killed him,” he added. “How would we know? We are here in Bandipora, 60 kms away from Srinagar.”

A science graduate, Sofi was a teacher in a nearby village before he joined the police in 2009. He was married for a little over a year and is survived by a wife and twin sons, who will turn one in July. “Why do people here have to die?” Qayoom asked. “Why should anyone die?”

Villagers remembered Sofi as a humble and friendly person who was “unlike other policemen”. His killing has caused anger among many of the villagers. “What was his fault?” Mohiuddin said about Sofi. “That he wore India’s cap and India’s uniform?”

“Whatever happens, in the end it’s a Kashmiri who dies,” Mohiuddin added. “That is not to say that we want Hindus to die, but we are against killers.”

A childhood friend of Sofi, who did not wish to be identified, said that the village did not distinguish between the two deaths. “These were two of our own who were killed. They are even buried together, there is no conflict over who is a shaheed – martyr – and who isn’t.”

Buried next to one another, with not even epitaph stones erected yet, it is difficult to tell which grave is of the policeman and which of the ironworker. The deaths symbolise Kashmir’s tragic spiral of violence that continues to claim lives.