A Long Dream of Home

In the 1990s, many Kashmiri pandits had no choice but to leave their homes behind. This is one such story of displacement

- Siddhartha Gigoo

THE memory of that fateful morning in March 1990 when, amid the unfolding horror and threat to our lives, we boarded a truck to take us away from our home in Srinagar, Kashmir. To Jammu.

The memory of that 12-hour road trip still haunts us.

Morning March 1990 Batwara, Srinagar

In our truck are the six members of the Koul family, my nine-year-old sister and I. There is room for only six passengers in the driver’s cabin, but 10 of us, including a helper and a conductor, huddle together, partly to avoid sitting in the back of the truck’s carriage and partly for warmth—it is a cold wintry morning. The truck is made to stop at a check post at Batwara near the Badami Bagh Army Cantonment (five kilometres from Lal Chowk).

Hundreds of trucks, buses and cars full of Kashmiri Pandits fleeing their homes are lined up on the road. The paramilitaries are inspecting the vehicles, checking the luggage of passengers, and frisking and questioning them as though they are the culprits with guns and grenades hidden in their luggage.

All we are carrying is a bundle of clothes. Some have nothing. The Koul family believes they will be able to come back soon to get the rest of their household belongings. More and more Pandit families are running towards the vehicles, desperately searching for vacant seats. All their efforts are in vain.

Picture this: a family of four—an elderly couple and their son and daughter-in-law. The two women are sobbing. The two men are begging them to hop into our truck. The expression on their faces reveals the urgency: ‘hurry or else’. The unspoken words: ‘or else we will be left behind… or else we will be…’