The Kashmir Files - A true story of Kashmiri Pandits
This movie left me numb. I could not get up from my seat when the movie was over. It was as if I was paralyzed for a moment.
I have heard of these stories throughout my childhood. Some of the people killed were relatives, some were distant uncles, some were known to our known ones. We were too small to understand the pain at that time.
After this movie was released, me and my wife decided to watch it in theater. Looking at the houseful status of PVR near us, we decided to postpone watching this movie. My wife said – “let everyone watch our story. We are going to watch it anyway”.
Today was the day we had our tickets booked. I dressed up in my best outfits and so did my wife. It didn’t feel like we were going to watch a movie. It felt like we were going to pay tribute to our people who lost their lives during this genocide. It was also a small contribution towards the success of this movie.
The Kashmir Files reveals the pain that our parents and grand-parents have gone through during 1980s and 1990s. I was 7 years old when this genocide happened. The generations born after me may not remember much of Kashmir. I certainly do.
I remember my maternal grand father carrying me over his shoulders to our apple orchard. He used to settle me on a branch of an apple tree. I used to eat as many apples as I could and by the time he came back, all the apples within my reach were gone. So, he used to settle me on another branch and I could reach more apples.
After the forceful exodus, I remember my maternal grandfather giving me a rupee to buy something to eat. He did not have much to offer. I understood that we were displaced from our motherland but I did not understand the pain our elders were going through. They were rendered homeless all of a sudden. I did not understand what that meant.
Today after 32 years of exodus, I am of same age my father was in 1990. I cannot compare my life with the one he lived 32 years back. I remember my parents, grand-parents, aunts all living together in a small accommodation.
The Kashmir files precisely shows the reality of genocide of Kashmiri Pandits. In this movie Krishna Pandit depicts the generation I relate with. I feel there could be a sequel to this movie that portrays how Krishna Pandit grew up under such turbulent times.
I remember I had a small trunk full of books and I used to study next to our designated kitchen area where my mother used to cook, my sister with her study trunk, my father and grand-father sitting next to us and all of this happening in a 100 square foot of rented space.
Sometimes I find it hard to believe that we have seen so much in this life time. I am so proud to be a Kashmiri Pandit. This community has set an example of getting back to prosperity by sheer determination of sticking to the path of knowledge and education.
During all these years, the only political personality that had a direct impact on my life is Lt Sh. Bala Saheb Thakrey. He was the man who openly embraced our community in those turbulent times. He is the reason I am an Engineer today. Whenever I see his picture anywhere on TV/internet, my eyes bow down to thank him.
We stayed in rented accommodation for 10 years. I grew up as a child with insecurities. It felt as if something was missing in our lives. I used to visit my class mates who were locals and lived in their own houses. I felt underprivileged. The locals used to call us cowards because we ran away from our motherland.
By the mid of 1999, my father built a small house in a remote area of Jammu where few other Kashmiri families were purchasing land at cheaper rates. The money was raised by selling our land in Kashmir to Muslims at a throw-away price. It was the year of my 12th standard. I remember the session had already started and my father was not sure if we should shift to new house because that would impact my studies. When he asked me, I said I want to go to the new house and I will take care of my studies.
When we finally shifted to our house, I felt a kind of relief that I had never felt before. I felt like a free person who could do anything. A new stream of energy – a flood of energy. I knew I was going to do well in my studies. Since it was a remote area, I used to walk for 12 Kilometers a day for school, tuitions but I never felt tired. I was so happy that I was finally staying in my own house.
I stayed in that house for only eight months. I had to leave for Maharashtra for my Engineering (eyes bowing down to Bala saheb Thakrey). The life has been kind since then.