Mohammad Umar Baba is a Kashmir-based Journalist and blogger and was born in Srinagar in 1982. He has been covering conflict, politics, and human rights in the region for the past several years and can be reached at umar9944@gmail.com
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09/21/2009 - 10:06 p.m. CST -- by Mohammad Umar Baba 
In
a small corner of a modest but well-lit room, Haseena, 45, at her
spinning wheel is an archetypal image of a Kashmiri mother. She is at
work by a poster-size photograph of her elder son Tanveer Ahmad Handoo
who was killed in the CRPF firing last year at capital Srinagar's Safa Kadal,
during the Amarnath land row. The
family remembers Tanveer with a video which is a treasured possession
for them. This is a two-minute long flash video of a dying Tanveer
captured on a mobile phone. The video shows images of protestors on
August 14, 2008, near the Safa Kadal Bridge and gunshots followed by
images of Tanveer and another injured youth Tariq Ahmad. The video not
only preserves the memory of Tanveer’s martyrdom but has also become
iconic of a new electronic front between the Kashmiri resistance and
the Indian State. Says Tanveer’s brother, Riyaz Ahmed Handoo, while viewing the video clip: “These are the last moments of my brother’s life after he was shot in the abdomen and before he could even make it to the hospital.” The Handoos say that the mobile clip was shot by an anonymous protester in the crowd and someone shared it with them via Bluetooth. For Riyaz, the memory of his brother’s death is the memory of his brother’s life and he wants the video to be there on his mobile phone forever. This disturbing image of a Kashmiri life fading into death has become a symbol of protest and martyrdom in the neighborhood. The video was widely circulated on the Internet and was uploaded on video sharing websites like YouTube as “Kashmir Burning” that fuelled protests across Kashmir. The same video also shows Tariq, a worker, sustain multiple bullet injuries. But Tariq survived. “This is me,” he says heartily on being shown his video on YouTube. “That day I received two bullet hits.” Tariq feels a deep sense of... [Read More] |
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05/03/2009 - 1:43 a.m. CST -- by Mohammad Umar Baba
I write this piece with my left hand. No, I do not have the habit of being a quirky lefty, but a bamboo stick just unpeeled my fingers’ skin. And jackboots trample my clenched right hand.On my left thigh, a deep red mark bears witness to the waspish and brutal assault on me by dozens of Indian para-military Central Reserve Police Force (CRPF). It is a bright morning of August 12, 2008. In Kashmir (Indian administered), a Muslim majority region, it is just the following day of killing spree when troops shot dead a prominent pro-freedom leader, Sheikh Aziz and four other protesters who were leading a peaceful march towards Muzaffarabad—capital of Pakistan administered Kashmir, a small city tucked across the de facto border called Line of Control (LoC) that divides this Himalayan region into Indian and Pakistani portion of Kashmir. The peaceful march was called to protest against the 10-day-long economic blockade imposed on the Valley from South, which ties Kashmir to Jammu—a Hindu dominated region of the State that connects the whole region to India plains. Near my home, I am standing on the parapet of a baker's shop waiting for my turn to get bread among half-a-dozen other people that beeline the bakers shop. While on the opposite side, hundreds of angry youth in Batamaloo (that falls in Srinagar—Kashmir’s summer capital), amidst pro-freedom slogans, are smashing down three CRPF sandbag bunkers. It is newsy. I get my camera, pen and a note pad from my home. And I start jotting down the observation. I click some pictures too. I try to overhear what people around are saying. They are happy, so am I. The news has reached my home very early today. And I will be the only one to report it. The CRPF had abandoned the bunkers in the preceding night fearing reprisal and vengeance after 10 people were killed, 150 injured and lacs of Kashmiris who st... [Read More] |
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04/23/2009 - 11:42 p.m. CST -- by Mohammad Umar Baba
Terrorism, a policy that permits mighty nations to contain 'enemies', has become a term to brand an entire people. During my stay in one of the princely states of erstwhile British India—Hyderabad, I planned to buy a television set. I asked a sales boy, barely 16, in one of the biggest shopping malls of the city to demonstrate some Television sets as I had to buy one. Before he could get the needful done, he inquired about our identity. My two friends who were accompanying me said that all of us are from Kashmir. The little chap hurled a one-liner. 'Kashmir mein sab atankwadi hain’, every Kashmiri is a terrorist. How come? I retorted. Scratching his head, he said, "Aaj tak kehta hai', Aaj Tak- an Indian Hindi news, channel says. We didn't buy any TV set from that shop, however, the Magic Bullet theory, that mass media has a direct, immediate and powerful effect on its audiences got confirmed. We left the TV and bought the theory instead. The world wide perception of 'Terrorism' is almost the same. Ask a kid or a toddler who has just finished its cradle ride about who is a Terrorist? The response won't be any different. Bullet theory comes into play, and kids make good copycats. Such is the impact of media. People generally imitate and consider true everything media comes out with. Human nature as they say it. Talk of terrorism and the majority of people around the world tend to think about unshaven faces and turbaned burly men, shouldering AK-47. Names like, Osama-Bin-Laden, Ayman-al-Zawahri, start flashing at the mind. Almost 90% of the audience, says Noam Chomsky, blindly agree on the media material and hence are somewhat akin to the 'bewildered herd’ that is content with grazing only without actually knowing the shepherd who holds the beating stick to steer the herd anywhere he wishes.
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