Song sung blue

There are epic tragedies scattered across the divided line between the two Kashmirs. That is why closer economic and political ties across the LoC make sense: to heal the wounds, still bleeding

Iftikhar Gilani Srinagar

Bus conductor Sadiq Hussain Shah rued th e day he got off his bus to chase a spare tyre that had rolled off the roof while negotiating a sharp curve in Pakistan-occupied Kashmir (PoK) close to the Line of Control (LoC). He strayed into Indian territory where the BSF patrolling party promptly arrested him. He spent seven years in a Jammu jail. He was finally handed over to Pakistani authorities at Wagah in 2005 — along with the dilapidated tyre! 

Similarly, a boy from PoK spent three years in prison after he had jumped into a stream to save his drowning mother in north Kashmir. The mother was washed away and he strayed to the other bank, which was in Indian territory. He could return home after three long years to mourn his mother's death.

There are innumerable epical stories of existential tragedies and fragmentation bordering on absurdity in the border areas of Jammu and Kashmir divided by the Line of Control (LoC). Prime Minister Manmohan Singh's initiatives to make it a 'Line of Peace', notwithstanding, for locals, it has been a painful wedge drawn on flesh and blood for the past 60 years. 

Look at the Gurez region in north Kashmir, housing the Dard Shin tribe. Earlier, this tribe ruled edges of north Kashmir from Chitral and Yasin, across the Indus regions of Gilgit, Chilas and Bunji to the Gurez Valley. The LoC and the closure of Gilgit route in 1947 isolated this tribe into obscurity. Today, they are struggling to save their vanishing Shina language, their culture, traditions and distinct identity.

Many theories exist as to their origin. Some historians believe they are pure-blooded descendants of the Indo-Europeans who migrated to India, while others say they have descended from Alexander's soldiers who lost their way while returning to Greece after the war with Indian king Porus. 

For the first time in over 60 years, it was the earthquake of October 2005 that brought the two divided halves of J&K together in grief, but only for a short while. While the destruction in Uri, Tangdar and Poonch on the Indian side was terrible (around 1,300 dead), PoK was completely devastated with almost 70,000 casualties. The region lost more than two per cent of its population. This devastation once again highlighted the cruel division. For a week, Pakistani rescue teams could not reach Garhi Dup-pata and other areas close to the LoC in Uri. Pak-istani units on the LoC had lost contact with their headquarters. People at Kaman watched the despair on the other side of the border, but could do little. 

There was an identical situation in Karnah belt where no road was left to carry relief and rehabilitation operations from the Indian side. Both countries lost a golden opportunity to make the LoC irrelevant and allow respective rescue teams to help the people in distress. In Uri, Indians could very well have taken control of relief operations in Muzaffarabad district. Similarly, Pakistani rescue teams had easy access to help people in Karnah and Poonch.   Indeed, Indian officials have categorically stated that various PoK villages could have been accessed easily from the Indian side rather than from Muzaffarabad.