Aisha shows the family picture at her residence in downtown Srinagar. Photo by: Izhar Ali
Srinagar: The Indo-Pak clash in the cricket World Cup semi-finals has raised the cricket fever, like the rest of sub-continent, to a fervent pitch in Kashmir. Mouths wide open in nervousness, twitched eye brows, tension in the sitting rooms, all eyes glued to the Television screens, keen to not miss even a single moment of the clash.
Not at the house of Aisha in Bana Mohalla locality of old city's Fateh Kadal area.
Up four stairs from the main door is a small room on the right, where she lies on the bed, X-rays hanging over her head. There is a silence and a stillness that lingers on her face and around. She is unmoved by the cricket fervor outside. An old TV set covered by a table cloth lies still. Not buzzing. A threefold photo frame is on a table next to her bed. It has family pictures.
For Aisha the India-Pak cricket fervor is an aching reminiscence. Years back she had thanked God for Pakistan’s victory over India. As she folded her prayer rug she came to know the victory had come for a price. It was too big a price. Her son.
Aisha’s son remains by her side captured in the photo. Tears brimming her eyes, it seems is the only sign of life on her old face. “This television was brought by my son. Cricket was not just a game, but obsession for him. He would forget everything else to watch Pakistan team playing,” she says, while pointing to the small black and white television.
“It doesn’t work anymore. But I always want it to remain in my sight,” she says.
A file picture of Imtiyaz who was allegedly killed by Indian troops after India lost to Pakistan in 1994
On April, 22, 1994, Pakistan lifted the Australasia Cup defeating arch rivals India by a score of 39 runs. Pakistan’s victory in Sharjah triggered celebrations in Kashmir as well. Groups of youth and children poured on the streets in Fateh Kadal area of the old city to celebrate the Pak win.
Sweets, candies, firecrackers and pro-freedom and pro-Pakistan slogans marked the jubilations that brought old city to life. However, the celebrations didn’t last long.
Ayesha’s son Imtiyaz Ahmad, in his thirties, was returning euphoric after watching the game at his friends place in the neighborhood.
Exuberant over Pak’s victory, he was celebrating the big moment. Minutes later, troopers came in charging. Anger and disappointment writ largely on their faces. They vent it out and Imtiyaz became their target.
“To revenge the defeat, they caught hold of my son and shot him twice till he died,” tearful Aisha says in feeble voice.
Imtiyaz, an employee in University of Kashmir was the youngest of the eight siblings, including four sisters.
An avid cricket fan, he would die for Pak’s victory and so he did .
Aisha manages to walk a few steps to reach the cupboard. In the cupboard is a steel trunk which has memories of her slain son treasured.
“There are the socks he was wearing on that day,” she says amid sobs.
Leaving the socks on the floor, she takes out a polythene bag containing some important documents and some memorable pictures of her son and other family members.
An ailing Aisha remembers her son who was killed by Indian troops in 1994. Photo by Izhar Ali
“She is Behanji; she is my daughter Maryam, this is her husband and here is my son Imtiyaz. This picture is of my daughter’s wedding,” she says a half-smile escaping her lips.
Suddenly, she breaks down again. Wiping the tears with her scarf she recalls, “It was Friday, Jumma-e-Muhammad (PBUH). After the game was over, we offered prayers and thanked Allah for bestowing Pakistan with victory. I was so happy that day.”
Victory became a loss.
“As I was walking down the stairs, gunshots replaced the firecrackers. Cries, screams and elegies replaced the slogans. I struggled to reach the main door, only to find my son lying in a pool of blood on the lane,” she laments.
Imtiyaz, she said, was cornered by the troopers as blood was profusely oozing from his chest.
Before, she could blink her eyes, she said, a trooper pointed his rifle on her son and shot at him again.
“Yeh saala abhi zinda hain. Goli maro isko,” she quoted a trooper talking to his colleague.
Imtiyaz’s last words were, “Go tell my mother that her son has been martyred.”
After ‘cold-blooded murder’ the troopers, Aisha said, prevented her from picking up the body of her slain son. The troopers had warned her that she would be shot if she made advances.
“I asked them why they killed my son. I told them to shoot me as well. They pointed rifles and told me to go home,” she says in a choked voice.
The incident shattered the family and left Aisha in a state of shock. Sixteen years from now, she is yet to come in terms with the loss. “Like my son, I was crazy about cricket. Now, I don’t watch it anymore,” she says.
“Cricket reminds me of the painful death of my son. It was just a game. What was the fault of my son? Why was he killed?” asks a desperate mother while making failed attempts to hold back tears.
No comments:
Post a Comment