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A few who displayed grace under pressure
- Separatists betraying sympathy for soldiers, cops warming to young would-be militants, desk-bound diplomats volunteering for a dangerous overseas rescue — tales of humanity from the year gone by
Room for a ‘martyr’
Muzaffar Raina in Dadasura, Pulwama
Ghulam Hassan Mir at the martyrs’ graveyard, with his soldier son’s tombstone to his left and the militant’s to his right. (Picture by Abdul Qayoom)
Ghulam Hassan Mir at the martyrs’ graveyard, with his soldier son’s tombstone to his left and the militant’s to his right.
Mir Owais Hassan Raja and Mir Aadil Bashir were childhood friends who found themselves on opposite sides of Kashmir's unforgiving divide, one a soldier and the other a militant. That's half the story.
The other half is about how the divide proved not so unforgiving, in the end.
All but one of the 38 graves at the "martyrs' graveyard" in Dadasura village in Tral, where the two friends lived, are marked " shaheed". Each belongs to a militant or civilian fallen to the security forces.
Unthinkably, the tombstone over the 38th and last reads " fauji shaheed" (martyred soldier).
A quarter century of conflict has sprouted hundreds of martyrs' graveyards or mazar-e-shohda across Kashmir. It would be out of the question for a dead soldier to find a place in one, more so in an insurgency hotbed dubbed Kashmir's "Kandahar".
Most of the militants buried here are locals but there are some Pakistanis too, like Shoaib Ahmad Khan of Multan and Azhar Ahad of Faisalabad.
So how did Owais, 25, of 50 Rashtriya Rifles make it here? The clue lies in the grave next to his. Aadil, also 25 and a Hizbul Mujahideen commander, was the 37th shaheed buried at the cemetery.
"They had been together from childhood and got an opportunity to unite again," said Aadil's father Bashir Ahmad Mir.
The irony doesn't escape him: the two youths had together applied for army jobs seven years ago but unlike the graveyard, the forces failed to find room for both.
The graveyard occupies portions of the grounds of a shrine to Sufi saint Syed Akbar-ud-din, the father-in-law of Kashmir's patron saint Sheikh Noor-ud-din Awliya. The shrine is famous for religious tolerance, and Kashmiri Pandits are said to have performed the havan on its lawns.
But the generosity didn't extend to its martyrs' graveyard till rifleman Owais drowned in the September floods, three months after Aadil was killed in an encounter on June 19.
It was Bashir who took the initiative to persuade the villagers to open the graveyard to a soldier.
A religious sanction came to his aid, as perhaps did a softening of attitudes wrought by the September floods, where separatist and soldier suffered alike.
"Allah was merciful on both: they both achieved martyrdom despite one being a soldier and the other a mujahid," Bashir said.
Owais was washed away at Samboora, 20km from Dadasura, on September 6 and his body was found six days later.
Within hours, Bashir had turned up at the soldier's home carrying a proposal backed by a Hadith (sayings and traditions of the Prophet) that grants the status of martyr to a drowned Muslim.
"His family was arranging for his gusul (ablution) but I said he was a martyr and did not need it," Bashir said. Ablution is usually not performed on martyrs' bodies.
"We had heard that Owais had saved people trapped in the floods before his own boat capsized, which made him all the more eligible for burial as a martyr," Bashir said.
Somebody then suggested that a mufti (an Islamic scholar) be consulted but several young men stepped up to say there was no need because "our religion is categorical that whoever dies by drowning is a martyr".
The Sahih Muslim, considered one of the two most authentic books of Hadith by Sunnis, says: "He who is killed in the way of Allah is a martyr; he who dies naturally in the cause of Allah is a martyr; he who dies of plague is a martyr; he who dies of a stomach disease is a martyr; and he who is drowned is a martyr."
Owais's family agreed instantly. "I could see his father's relief," Bashir said. Owais was buried after a guard of honour from an army team that had already arrived.
Bashir denied his proposal had a second, personal motive too - to unite two friends parted by their chosen callings.
"No, no, that wasn't the reason," he protested. "But yes, I'm relieved they are buried side by side."
The villagers attended the funeral in large numbers, though some had reservations that still persist.
Chance missed
When the boys were 18, they had jointly applied for army jobs in 2007. Owais got in but Aadil, who had a "black spot - a birthmark - in his ear", was asked to get a fitness certificate from an army hospital.
"He had his Class XII exams that day," Bashir said. "He was too late for the check-up."
Ironically, while Owais's father was "not in favour" of his joining the army, Bashir said he wouldn't have objected if Aadil had.
"It's immaterial who pays your salary as long as you do your job honestly," the government hospital employee said.
Aadil graduated from a local college. He and Owais continued to be friends and met whenever opportunity arose.
In 2009, Aadil's elder brother Nayeem, a BTech student, joined the militants in what their father calls a "tragedy".
Nayeem had attracted the security forces' suspicion because one of his cousins was a militant. He was scared he would be arrested. "I told him not to worry but he just disappeared," Bashir said.
Sometime in 2010, Nayeem was killed in an encounter. Just 21 days later, Aadil became a mujahid and rose to become one of the security forces' most wanted.
"I sent a courier to Aadil and urged him to return home. I told him I had already lost one son and his mother was ailing. But he said he would never quit. I said I would leave it to God now," Bashir said.
Over the next four years, Aadil is known to have participated in many attacks on the security forces. Owais, as a member of a counter-insurgency force, would have been part of several operations against militants.
Both operated in the same district, Pulwama, and could well have come face to face during a gunfight. Their families remained friends.
Bashir is proud of his son's "martyrdom" but rues that Aadil was betrayed along with two fellow fighters. "Somebody mixed drugs in their food to sedate them. They were caught and killed," he said.
The army says all three were killed in a gunfight in Buchoo village.
Local acceptance of Owais as a martyr has lifted a burden off his father Ghulam Hassan Mir, once opposed to his son joining the army.
"He was indeed a martyr and is buried close to his friend," the cancer patient said.
Adil Mir, a B.Tech pass out from IUST was active for the past four years. His brother, Nayeem Mir, a Masters in Computer Applications (MCA) from IUST, was also killed by forces in an encounter last year. Adil Mir was a close friend of Iconic Kashmiri Leader Burhan Wani.
- Separatists betraying sympathy for soldiers, cops warming to young would-be militants, desk-bound diplomats volunteering for a dangerous overseas rescue — tales of humanity from the year gone by
Room for a ‘martyr’
Muzaffar Raina in Dadasura, Pulwama
Ghulam Hassan Mir at the martyrs’ graveyard, with his soldier son’s tombstone to his left and the militant’s to his right. (Picture by Abdul Qayoom)
Ghulam Hassan Mir at the martyrs’ graveyard, with his soldier son’s tombstone to his left and the militant’s to his right.
Mir Owais Hassan Raja and Mir Aadil Bashir were childhood friends who found themselves on opposite sides of Kashmir's unforgiving divide, one a soldier and the other a militant. That's half the story.
The other half is about how the divide proved not so unforgiving, in the end.
All but one of the 38 graves at the "martyrs' graveyard" in Dadasura village in Tral, where the two friends lived, are marked " shaheed". Each belongs to a militant or civilian fallen to the security forces.
Unthinkably, the tombstone over the 38th and last reads " fauji shaheed" (martyred soldier).
A quarter century of conflict has sprouted hundreds of martyrs' graveyards or mazar-e-shohda across Kashmir. It would be out of the question for a dead soldier to find a place in one, more so in an insurgency hotbed dubbed Kashmir's "Kandahar".
Most of the militants buried here are locals but there are some Pakistanis too, like Shoaib Ahmad Khan of Multan and Azhar Ahad of Faisalabad.
So how did Owais, 25, of 50 Rashtriya Rifles make it here? The clue lies in the grave next to his. Aadil, also 25 and a Hizbul Mujahideen commander, was the 37th shaheed buried at the cemetery.
"They had been together from childhood and got an opportunity to unite again," said Aadil's father Bashir Ahmad Mir.
The irony doesn't escape him: the two youths had together applied for army jobs seven years ago but unlike the graveyard, the forces failed to find room for both.
The graveyard occupies portions of the grounds of a shrine to Sufi saint Syed Akbar-ud-din, the father-in-law of Kashmir's patron saint Sheikh Noor-ud-din Awliya. The shrine is famous for religious tolerance, and Kashmiri Pandits are said to have performed the havan on its lawns.
But the generosity didn't extend to its martyrs' graveyard till rifleman Owais drowned in the September floods, three months after Aadil was killed in an encounter on June 19.
It was Bashir who took the initiative to persuade the villagers to open the graveyard to a soldier.
A religious sanction came to his aid, as perhaps did a softening of attitudes wrought by the September floods, where separatist and soldier suffered alike.
"Allah was merciful on both: they both achieved martyrdom despite one being a soldier and the other a mujahid," Bashir said.
Owais was washed away at Samboora, 20km from Dadasura, on September 6 and his body was found six days later.
Within hours, Bashir had turned up at the soldier's home carrying a proposal backed by a Hadith (sayings and traditions of the Prophet) that grants the status of martyr to a drowned Muslim.
"His family was arranging for his gusul (ablution) but I said he was a martyr and did not need it," Bashir said. Ablution is usually not performed on martyrs' bodies.
"We had heard that Owais had saved people trapped in the floods before his own boat capsized, which made him all the more eligible for burial as a martyr," Bashir said.
Somebody then suggested that a mufti (an Islamic scholar) be consulted but several young men stepped up to say there was no need because "our religion is categorical that whoever dies by drowning is a martyr".
The Sahih Muslim, considered one of the two most authentic books of Hadith by Sunnis, says: "He who is killed in the way of Allah is a martyr; he who dies naturally in the cause of Allah is a martyr; he who dies of plague is a martyr; he who dies of a stomach disease is a martyr; and he who is drowned is a martyr."
Owais's family agreed instantly. "I could see his father's relief," Bashir said. Owais was buried after a guard of honour from an army team that had already arrived.
Bashir denied his proposal had a second, personal motive too - to unite two friends parted by their chosen callings.
"No, no, that wasn't the reason," he protested. "But yes, I'm relieved they are buried side by side."
The villagers attended the funeral in large numbers, though some had reservations that still persist.
Chance missed
When the boys were 18, they had jointly applied for army jobs in 2007. Owais got in but Aadil, who had a "black spot - a birthmark - in his ear", was asked to get a fitness certificate from an army hospital.
"He had his Class XII exams that day," Bashir said. "He was too late for the check-up."
Ironically, while Owais's father was "not in favour" of his joining the army, Bashir said he wouldn't have objected if Aadil had.
"It's immaterial who pays your salary as long as you do your job honestly," the government hospital employee said.
Aadil graduated from a local college. He and Owais continued to be friends and met whenever opportunity arose.
In 2009, Aadil's elder brother Nayeem, a BTech student, joined the militants in what their father calls a "tragedy".
Nayeem had attracted the security forces' suspicion because one of his cousins was a militant. He was scared he would be arrested. "I told him not to worry but he just disappeared," Bashir said.
Sometime in 2010, Nayeem was killed in an encounter. Just 21 days later, Aadil became a mujahid and rose to become one of the security forces' most wanted.
"I sent a courier to Aadil and urged him to return home. I told him I had already lost one son and his mother was ailing. But he said he would never quit. I said I would leave it to God now," Bashir said.
Over the next four years, Aadil is known to have participated in many attacks on the security forces. Owais, as a member of a counter-insurgency force, would have been part of several operations against militants.
Both operated in the same district, Pulwama, and could well have come face to face during a gunfight. Their families remained friends.
Bashir is proud of his son's "martyrdom" but rues that Aadil was betrayed along with two fellow fighters. "Somebody mixed drugs in their food to sedate them. They were caught and killed," he said.
The army says all three were killed in a gunfight in Buchoo village.
Local acceptance of Owais as a martyr has lifted a burden off his father Ghulam Hassan Mir, once opposed to his son joining the army.
"He was indeed a martyr and is buried close to his friend," the cancer patient said.
Adil Mir, a B.Tech pass out from IUST was active for the past four years. His brother, Nayeem Mir, a Masters in Computer Applications (MCA) from IUST, was also killed by forces in an encounter last year. Adil Mir was a close friend of Iconic Kashmiri Leader Burhan Wani.
