An Uneasy Peace Rules In J&K

The valley is quiet, but it is far from peaceful. The government clampdown has kept the lid on an angry population, waiting for restrictions to lift even as it struggles with the everyday

- Abhishek Bhalla and Moazum Mohammad

On the morning of Eid al-Adha in Srinagar, a young boy in spotless, if creased, kurta-pyjamas is trying but failing to keep his sheep under control. The sheep, perhaps sensing its impending sacrifice, tries to make a run for it and becomes entangled in the coiled mesh at one of the security checkpoints that have blanketed the city since August 5, when the government announced its intention to do away with Article 370 which conferred special status and autonomy on Kashmir. Anticipating protests, the government had cleared Kashmir of tourists, including Amarnath pilgrims, at the height of the season, and imposed a communications ban, affecting mobile phones, the Internet and even landlines.

Stuck, the sheep bleated while the boy became increasingly upset at being unable to help. It was finally rescued by the men manning the checkpoint. They were wearing camouflage, their bodies weighed down with protective gear; some of them were armed. And soon the boy is joined by other children his age who help him corral the sheep. They say their Eid plans will differ this year, with no one lighting firecrackers, going shopping, or flying kites. Instead, says one boy shyly, “Iss Eid par Khuda se dua karenge ki halaat theek ho jayein (This Eid, we will pray to God for the situation to improve).” Perhaps Kashmiris believe only divine intervention can help them now. It’s been over two weeks since they became virtual prisoners, unable to say what they feel about the momentous changes being forced upon them, to the cheers of much of the rest of the country.