In Indian occupied Jammu & Kashmir the plight of the relatives of thousands of those who disappeared in custody is going from bad to worse. Gruesome is the tale of a mother of a disappeared youth, says a report reaching here on Tuesday from across the Line of Control (LoC).
The report says that Mughli, 68, is waiting for her only son Nazir Ahmad Teli (37) who disappeared in the custody of Indian occupation forces some 13 years back, following his arrest near Tangmarg in Baramulla district. He was on his way home from the shrine of Baba Rishi.
The report says that her three-storey house remains locked for most of the time due to visits to courts, doctors' clinics, sympathetic relatives and meetings those who share her fate. This has been her routine since disappearance of her son. She is a destitute now, always short of money for medicines, transportation, legal fees and provisions. "Troops appeared in the court once and denied having taken him into custody."
Do they ever own up? "Now they don't even appear for the hearings. Every time I get the same answer that they have not picked him up. I can't even walk now", Mughli says. Women are looking out of their windows in wait for the groom expected to be wearing designer outfit and decorated turban on his head. Mughli stands on the edge of the narrow lane, probably imagining Nazir back home from his teaching job in "bell-bottom pants and an old fashioned shirt".
Another destitute Kashmiri woman, Hamida, could not afford the indefatigable resolve of Mughli. Her 45-year-old (now 60, if alive) husband, G M Sofi, a baker by profession, disappeared in custody of forces on April 25, 1992 when he was on way to home from his shop near Malikyar, Fateh Kadal, in downtown Srinagar.
Her four daughters, Sakina 17, Maryam 15, Nazima 12 and Rehana 8, are getting sick of people looking at them pityingly when someone would bring provisions in charity. Their uncle Ghulam Mohiuddin Sofi was shot dead by the Indian Border Security Force when he was closing his shop.
They want to continue their studies also. Their youngest uncle is overburdened. He has ailing old parents to look after, besides the extended family of his disappeared brother. So, Hamida decided to go against the pangs of her conscience and applied for ex gratia relief given to persons killed in violence and also for a government job. "No one was coming forward to help. What could I do?" Hamida says, astonished at herself that she had accepted the unpalatable.
Shakila, 26, is youngest of the new 'crop' of half widows (women whose husbands have disappeared in the custody). Her husband Abdul Hamid Badyari, 25, was arrested by men of the infamous Special Operations Group in January 2000.
In a wooden hut, built on the bank of a stinking river near Gow Kadal, Shakila has been ailing for the past six years. As a part time domestic help in many households, that means no wages for six days, she sustains her three children Rukaya 8, Sanaa 4, and a boy of 6 years. Rukaya missed her classes for at least 20 days this month.
In a nearby hut, a 'lunatic women' had taken shelter some days ago and a few unknown persons had followed her. "I was very frightened. So, I sent Rukaya to her aunt's place for some days," Shakila says. She, too, has given up the search. "The state Human Rights Commission advised me to get some information from CIK, Hariniwas, for processing my case for relief," Shakila says shuddering at the thought of going to the infamous place.