NOT SURE IF HIS SON WAS KILLED IN LANDMINE BLAST, AHMAD DEMANDS INQUIRY TO TRACE HIM

Mir Ehsan

A few months after Ghulam Ahmad Rather's son Nissar, a college-goer, went missing in 1991, he was told that Nissar got killed in a landmine blast. But when Ahmad went to identify the mutilated body, he failed to recognise it.

Ahmad says he is not sure that the body was of Nissar and demands an inquiry to know whereabouts of his missing son.

"An inquiry should be set up to look into this case as we are facing a mental torture. I want to know exactly what happened to my son 16 years ago," says Ghulam Ahmad.

After 16 years of wait, frail and aging Ghulam Ahmad, a resident of north Kashmir's picturesque village Malpora, is in search of "truth". "I want to know the truth about my college-going son who went missing when turmoil was at its peak."

Recalling the day when his son went missing, Ahmad said, "My son was good at studies and would take his class regularly at the college." He does'nt know who exactly picked up his son and neither wants to blame anybody. "The only fact is that my teenaged son had left for his college and never returned."

For first few days we though that Nissar might have stayed with his friends in Baramulla or in any neighbouring village. But when he failed to reach home for the next two days we enquired from all his friends, but nobody could provide us any clue, Ahmad added.

Since then, Rather and his relatives started an unending search of his son. "We searched him everywhere, at nearby army camps. We also contacted the deputy commissioner Baramulla and senior police officials, but failed to trace him."

When the message of his death in a landmine blast came in, the news brought a pall of gloom to the entire Malpora village where everybody knew Nissar as an energetic student.

"We went to see the body but the face was badly mutilated and could not be identified it. Some clothes matched with our missing son," says Ahmad. "I did not have the courage to go to that place. My elder son went there. Only Almighty knows the truth,” said Rather.

After years of search, this frail man is eager to know what exactly had happened with his young son 16 years back when he left his house to attend the college.

MISSING MAN’S FAMILY KNOCKS AT DOORS OF MILITANT GROUPS

Majid Jahangir

Fayaz Ahmed Trag went missing fourteen years ago. His family at Tral in south Kashmir's Pulwama district has given up hope of his return, they now have one single wish: to know where his grave is.

But this story is different. Trag's family has no expectation from police or the Army or the security forces. They have been knocking at doors of militant groups and separatist leaders in the Valley.

The difference is Trag was not a civilian. He was a militant. He had crossed the Line of Control (LoC) in 1991 to get arms training. He returned to the Valley in early 1993. "Trag was a militant, but once he returned he was not actively involved in any act of violence," a relative of Trag said.

Twenty-five year old Fayaz Ahmed Trag, a resident at Tral in south Kashmir's Pulwama district went missing in 1993. The family says he was picked up by a rival group from a village in Tral and since then there is no news of him. "Soon after he was picked up we met many militant leaders in south Kashmir and they assured us that he will be released," the relative said.

Even this family faced a similar disappointed. The promises were never kept.

"We even met separatists leaders in Srinagar, but they too didn't do any thing," he went on to say.

Trag was married when he crossed the LoC. He had one daughter and a son.

"After he went missing his family was looked after by his father and elder brother," Khursheed, a neighbour who has been following his case said.

Trag's kids are now studying in college and the two like other family members have given up the hope of their father's return. "We don't believe that Trag is alive. But every one among us including his two kids want to know if Trag is dead where is he buried? " asks his relative Fayaz.

The family has not filed any case in the local police station about his disappearance.

‘WE WILL FIGHT TILL THE KILLERS ARE PUNISHED’

Basharaat Masood

Farooq Ahmad Rather crossed the Line of Control (LoC) to enter Pakistan-occupied-Kashmir (PoK) for arms training. He was killed on the border while trying to enter the Indian side again, says a report which the police had submitted to Jammu and Kashmir Human Rights Commission.

But here's the catch. Farooq's family members say: "He had polio. He could not walk. How could he have crossed the LoC?

On November 3, 1990, Farooq, then 20 years old, went missing in south Kashmir. He left his home at Chandpora in Bijbehara for the Government Degree College at Anantnag, where he was pursuing a BSc degree.

Farooq didn't return home that day. Seventeen years have passed, but he is yet to return.

His family says he was picked up by an unidentified security agency on his way to college. The family approached local police to lodge a missing report. "Officials at the police station refused to register an FIR," says Farooq's brother Shabir Ahmad Rather.

So the family started a search on their own. "For 12 years we continued our search," says Shabir. "We visited security camps, police stations, interrogation centres and jails. But we couldn't find Farooq".

Next, the distraught family sought the help of the Jammu and Kashmir Human Rights Commission to trace Farooq. "The Commission directed the then Inspector General of Police, Deputy Commissioner and SSP, Anantnag to furnish a report," says Shabir. "The police report said Farooq crossed LoC for arms training and was killed as he was trying to intrude into this side. They (police) said the family hasn't filed a missing report".

"Farooq was handicapped since birth. He had polio," says his brother. "How could he have crossed the LoC?"

"The Commission also observed flaws in the police report. It asked police if Farooq was killed on the LoC, why was the family not informed then and why was the body not handed over to the family," says Shabir. "If the police claim is true why haven't they lodged an FIR in this regard? Why didn't they mention it in the report?"

Shabir says Farooq was seriously pursuing his career and his sole aim in life was excelling in studies.
The recent fake encounter expose has led the family to believe that Farooq too has been killed. "It's clear my brother has been killed," Shabir says. "But our fight for justice will not end. We will fight till the killers are punished".

IRSHAD WAS 15 WHEN HE DISAPPEARED, COLLECTING FIREWOOD

Mir Ehsan

Nine years after Irshad Ahmad Parray disappeared, his family filed a missing report with Sheeri police. Eight more years later, there is still no sign of Irshad.



He was last seen going into a forest near his village to collect firewood. Irshad was then 15 years old. On November 11, 1999, the family lodged an FIR. "We have failed to trace him," says Irshad's father Habib Parray.

"The mysterious disappearance left our entire family shocked," says Habib who has not lost hope. "Why only me, my entire family has the firm belief that he (Irshad) will return," says Habib.

Living in north Kashmir 's remote Kitchama village, Habib and his wife Saja Begum have not forgotten the day Irshad went missing. "It was a hot summer day of 1990 when my son went to collect wood from a nearby forest. He was barely 15," says Habib, who works in the fields of other villagers.

The family suspects both militants and security forces for the disappearance because the area where Irshad went missing had a huge presence of army and militants. "The forest where my son disappeared was dense. Even after 17 years of the incident, we can't say who was responsible for his disappearance."

Habib says his son was innocent. "At 15, my son could have annoyed neither the army nor militants."

The family and villagers searched for his him in the jungles but failed to trace him. After the search, the family contacted police and all nearby army camps. "Initially, I thought my son may have been arrested by troops. But, officials told us the day my son disappeared no patrol was in the area or in the forests."

Saja Begum desires to see her son before she dies. "Before I die, my only wish is to see my son." "Sometimes I feel he will never return. But I keep hopes alive," she adds. When he disappeared, he was a boy. "Now he would be a man," she says.

‘I COULDN'T DARE CONFRONT THE POLICE’

Basharaat Masood

Ghulam Hassan Koka still remembers October 27, 2001. It had grown dark when there was a knock on the door of his house in Verinag, a remote village in south Kashmir.

"I opened the door to some ITBP personnel. They told me they were searching for the numbardar. My father was the nambardar of the village but he had passed away. When I told them this, they picked up my son Ashraf and left saying he was being taken for questioning and would be released soon," says Koka.

He says he can even identify the Indo Tibetan Border Police personnel. "They belonged to ITBP camp of Verinag," he says.

The family waited. After all, they said, the soldiers had promised to release Ashraf immediately. The wait hasn't ended.

A few days after Ashraf was picked up Koka says he went to the ITBP camp to enquire about his son. "At the camp, they denied that Ashraf had been arrested. It was the biggest shock of my life," says Koka.

They now had to start searching. Koka says his first destination was the local police station. "They registered an FIR but they did not mention the fact that ITBP personnel had picked Ashraf up. Instead, they wrote that he had been picked up by unknown people, says Koka.

He says he couldn't dare to confront the police. "The situation in the area was very volatile. Nobody there listened to our pleas".

"I approached senior police officers, politicians and government officials. I wanted to know where my son was. But nobody offered any help," says Koka.

Mohammad Ashraf Koka was appointed Junior Assistant in Bijbehara's Sub Judge Court five years before he disappeared.

'NO ONE CAN UNDERSTAND MY PAIN'

Basharaat Masood

Saja Begum has turned 82, but what keeps her life driving is a hope -- a hope that her two sons, who went missing 14 years ago, would return one day.

Masked men picked up begum's two sons Ghulam Mohidin Lone and Abdul Rashid Lone.

The story of Mohidin's disappearance dates back to 1993. On May 13, Mohidin, a resident of Hewan Baramulla left home for the shop as usual. As it was becoming late in the evening, Begum and her other son Rashid became restless. Mohidin didn't return home. Shopkeepers at Sheeri Baramulla, where Mohidin had a shop, informed the family that he was picked up by some masked men.

Begum, her son Rashid and daughter-in-law Haleema went out looking for Mohidin. "We searched for him everywhere," says Begum. "We searched in security camps, in jails, in police stations and in interrogation centres. But we didn't get any information about him." Mohidin had four children and ran the family's watch repairing shop.

When the search failed to yield any result, the family went to the police to register an FIR. But they refused. The village erupted in anger and police finally filed a missing report.

The family was still searching for the missing son when another tragedy befell them.

Hardly a year had passed after Mohidin's disappearance when another group of masked men barged into the house and took away Rashid. "It was around midnight when we heard a knock on our door," Begum recalls. "Ten masked men stood outside my house. They forced in and dragged out Rashid. When I resisted they opened fire. I was hit in the stomach." Rashid was yet to celebrate his first anniversary of his marriage.

Begum survived the bullet injury and after sometime the pain of her injury faded away but the aged mother's agony was far from over. Now, she has another job in hand--to search for her second son. "No one can understand my pain" she cries. "I have lost two sons."

The octogenarian Begum is failing her health but she has a hope - that her two sons innocent sons will return one day. "Even death can't bring peace to me," she says.

'I AM AN OPTIMIST, HE WILL RETURN'

Mohammad Numan

For 13 years Habibullah Bhat nursed only one dream. He wanted to see his son. Bhat died without that happening. Bhat's wife Khadija Begum had died with the same unrealised dream 15 years ago, two years after her son Mohammad Maqbool went missing.

He was arrested by the Central Reserve Police Force (CRPF) from Machwa on the outskirts of Srinagar city, says the family. On July 21, 1990 when insurgency had begun in Kashmir, Maqbool, a resident of Gangbugh in Batamaloo left home along with friend Nisar Ahmad. "They were arrested by CRPF and taken to Hari Niwas (an interrogation centre)," says Maqbool's brother Mohammad Sultan. "Nisar was released after some days but there was no news of Maqbool".

It marked the beginning of a search that is yet to yield any result.

"When we failed to locate him (Maqbool), we lodged a complaint with Sadar police," Sultan says. "That didn't help in tracing him". The family turned to the judiciary. "We filed a (writ) petition before (J-K) High Court," Sultan says. "The court appointed an inquiry officer. The officer concluded that Maqbool was arrested by CRPF and asked it to pay Rs 50,000 to the family".

In fact, the police and CRPF had denied having any knowledge of Maqbool's arrest and filed sworn affidavits in the court too.

After the inquiry, Justice Rizvi directed police to take action against the CRPF personnel. "Police didn't act," Sultan says. "In the meantime, Justice Rizvi was transferred and Justice Gandhi took over. He rejected the previous inquiry report and appointed a new inquiry officer. Seventeen years have passed but I am still fighting for justice," says Sultan.

Sultan recalls Maqbool as simple but ambitious. He wanted to study despite adverse family conditions. After passing class 12, circumstances forced him to shoulder the family responsibility and he decided to run a business. "He hired a shop at Batamaloo market," Sultan says. "He was hard working and wanted to excel".

Sultan says: "I had a lot of expectations from him. I was sure his name would one day figure on the list of top businessmen of the city". Maqbool's name is certainly on a list, but that's of missing persons, his brother adds.

Sultan believes his brother will return. "I am an optimist," he says. "He will return. I had promised my father that Maqbool will return. I have to fulfill it. He died before seeing Maqbool. But the day he returns, my father's soul will rest in peace".

17 YEARS ON, KHAN'S WIFE, 3 DAUGHTERS AWAIT HIS RETURN

Mir Ehsan

The family had always been poor. But after the disappearance of its bread-earner Mohammad Ayub Khan, the miseries of his wife and three daughters became manifold.


Khan's daughters were minors when Khan disappeared. Now they are eligible for marriage. Already exhausted by the 17 years of search for Khan, his wife Mehtab Begum is worried over the girls' marriage. They are still waiting for his return.

Recalling the day Khan was last seen by the family, Begum says he was arrested by the Border Security Force (BSF). "My husband was picked by troops of 56 and 76 Battalions on October 17, 1990," says Begum and adds that along with Khan, the BSF arrested seven others from neighbouring Gushi village. "All the others were released. Only my husband was detained," she says.

"When my relatives enquired with the BSF officials about my husband, their answer was shocking. They said they had not arrested him," says Begum. She adds: "My husband was arrested in presence of hundreds of villagers. Still, the BSF refused having made the arrest. Is this justice?"

"He was a poor labourer. No official could tell me why he was picked up," she says and adds Khan was innocent.

She and her relatives also met the then Deputy Commissioner and Superintendent of Police of Kupwara. "The officials asked me to maintain patience," she says.

Two years after the disappearance, she got her petition registered with the Jammu and Kashmir High Court. "It was only after the Court intervened that police registered a missing report," she says. "I don't know what police have done in the case so far."

After all these years, people of Khan's village are still surprised over his case. "I know Khan as a neighbour and friend. He was a simple man. He had only one aim, to earn livelihood for his family, especially his three daughters," says Fayaz Ahmad. "Those arrested along with Khan couldn't say as to what had happened to him in custody."

HIS FATHER BEING A COP DID NOT HELP YOUNIS

Basharaat Masood

Abdul Ahad Shah had a dream. Like Shah himself, his son should be a cop. Five years ago, the dream was shattered. Shah is a disillusioned man today, dying to know whether his son is alive.

Shah who served the Jammu and Kashmir Police for three decades guarding lives and property of others found himself helpless when it came to saving his own son Younis. In 2002, Younis was arrested from the house, says Shah.

"Soldiers of the 118 Battalion of the Border Security Force (BSF) took away my son," says Shah, who has since retired from the police force. BSF personnel raided his house at Beerwah in central Kashmir's Budgam district and arrested Younis, says Shah. "When I went to the BSF camp, they denied having any knowledge of my son's arrest," he says. "I begged them to return my son. It was of no use".

When the BSF denied having made the arrest, Shah went to the police station to register an FIR. Being a cop himself did not help, as he failed to motivate the Station House Officer (SHO) to register a case.

The family protested and an FIR was finally registered after more than a year of the disappearance of Younis, says Shah. Soon the Shahs' started a search themselves. "We searched for him in every jail and every security camp," says the retired cop. So far, there has been no success.

The Shah family's troubles had started much before the disappearance of Younis. The family, Shah says, had been antagonised by the Ikhwanis (counter-insurgents) comprising mostly surrendered militants. In 2002, counter-insurgents were in full force in Kashmir. They wanted Younis to join them, says Shah.

"A much-feared Ikhwani of the village, Hassan Ganie, and his associates were forcing youth to join them," Shah says. "They were after my son too. But he refused to join them. One day, Ganie forcibly took away my son to join counter-insurgency operations. But I managed to rescue him. Ganie continued to harass my son and our family".

The counter-insurgents threatened Younis, who ran an embroidery shop, of dire consequences if he failed to join them. He didn't oblige them. "Barely days after the threat, the BSF party arrested him (Younis)," says Shah.

In course of the search for Younis, the retired cop was duped of Rs 25,000 by a political activist who promised him information about Younis. Shah has not given up the search. And, like many others, Shah wants only one news: "Is my son dead or alive?"

CART-PULLER WENT MISSING AFTER ARREST; AS THE FAMILY WAS SEARCHING FOR HIM, HIS BROTHER DIED IN ENCOUNTER

Mir Ehsan

Fourteen years ago, Jana Begum had three sons. One fell to army bullets, she says, while another disappeared after his arrest by Border Security Force (BSF) jawans stationed at Batergam, but not in that order.

First came the arrest and the subsequent disappearance of Ghulam Nabi Magray, who was then 19 years old. That was on January 3, 1993. Older brother Ghulam Hassan was killed in an encounter later.

Jana Begum says she had no regrets about Hassan's killing as he was a militant. He was associated with the Jamiat-ul-Mujahideen. But she is angry about the disappearance of Magray, who used to pull a cart to earn for the large family, which had eight female members besides her youngest son, Nazir Ahmed, who was only six years old when Magray was arrested.

Magray was returning home after day's hard work when he was arrested.

It was during the family's search for Magray that Ghulam Hassan was killed in an encounter with the army. "I have lost two of my sons, and have no regrets about my oldest son. He was a militant," says Jana Begum. "But what was the fault of my other son?"
"He had nothing to do with militancy and had no political affiliations," she says.

The old and frail Jana Begum, who lives in a mud house, has no hope of Magray ever returning. She believes he was killed in custody. "I have the firm belief that my son was killed in BSF custody and his body dumped into some stream," she says.

Her youngest son Nazir sees a reason behind the "disappearance". "His only fault was that he was brother of a militant. As the BSF could not arrest my older brother, they arrested Nabi instead," says Nazir. Immediately after the arrest, the family, along with local villagers, approached officials of the BSF camp "where he was detained". "Officers at Batergam camp assured them that he will be released within three days," says Nazir. "It's now 14 years since the arrest. We have no news of him. I think he was killed soon after his arrest," adds Nazir.

All his mother now wants is justice. "I want all those BSF men who killed my son in custody for no reason to be punished," says Begum.

Fearing reprisals, the poverty stricken family had decided not to lodge a case with police or file a report with human rights groups. "After the disappearance of my son and killing of the other, I didn't want to lose my remaining son and gave up the case," says Begum. The family has no faith in the police or state administration.

"We are poor people and nobody speaks for the downtrodden. But I have full faith in the Almighty. The BSF personnel responsible for disappearance of my son will meet with the same fate," says Begum.

'I AM WAITING FOR HIS RETURN, HE WILL DEFINITELY RETURN'

Inam ul Haq

Pursuing PhD after getting his Masters degree in commerce from Aligarh Muslim University, Syed Basharat Ahmad was on a month's visit to his home in Batamaloo, when he disappeared. In a few days he was to return to submit a synopsis for his PhD.

But before that, Basharat was asked by his father to go to Sopore on a business errand. In Sopore, while Basharat was riding a tonga (horse cart), he was picked up by the 50 Battalion of the Central Reserve Police Force (CRPF), according to four others who were picked up along with Basharat. Basharat, along with neighbours Shabir Ahmad Mir and Ghulam Mohiudin, was arrested on October 12, 1990. Two tonga drivers were also held.

After a few days, all except Basharat were released, says Basharat's mother Haleema Shah, adding that he was carrying Rs 2.35 lakh with him when he was arrested.

"We got to know (of the arrest) six days later," says Haleema. "We rushed to Sopore and went to Doabgah CRPF camp. They denied having arrested him. We searched for him in every camp."

They went to every police official and bureaucrat for help. "In spite of the four arrested along with him giving eyewitness accounts, CRPF denied having held Basharat," says his mother. "My husband and I went to all higher-ups. But nobody could ascertain my son's whereabouts".

There was a ray of hope in 1996 when a person who had gone to visit his arrested brother in Kot Bhalwal Jail told them that Basharat was lodged in that jail. "We immediately rushed to Kot Bhalwal, only to be told that Basharat wasn't there," Haleema says adding that afterwards they went to Tihar and Jodhpur jails too in search of Basharat.

His father Syed Mohammad Amin filed a habeas corpus writ. On High Court orders, SHO Sopore was asked to file an FIR and the IGP and DIG of police told to disclose the ground of Basharat's arrest. According Haleema, the High Court, after examining the four witnesses arrested along with Basharat, told the SHO concerned to register a case. The SHO did not arrest anybody in connection with the matter. The CRPF also constituted a court of inquiry. The results of the inquiry were yet to be known, adds Haleema.

For the last one year, Haleema, who is a retired schoolteacher, has been battling it alone. "My husband died last year. The last word he uttered was 'Basharat'. Now I have to go to court and other places alone," says the 62-year-old Haleema.

Pointing at a photograph, Haleema adds, "This is my son. Maybe he was arrested as he was sporting a beard. I hope he is somewhere in a jail. I am waiting for his return. He will definitely return."

SHE KNOCKED ALL DOORS, BUT NO TRACE OF HER SON

Mohammad Numan

Raja Begum is suffering from dementia, but even after 10 years she remembers the afternoon of March 30, 1997. This was the day when Raja Begum had last seen her son.

Begum's son, Nisar Ahmed Wani, a resident of New Colony Batamaloo was picked up by the Army during a search operation. It was Sunday, when Army's 20 Grenadiers cordoned the area. The soldiers picked up Nisar, a tailor, along with three other residents of the locality. The other three were released a few days later but Nisar didn't return

"We just had finished lunch when the Army barged into our house," recalls Raja Begum. "They were looking for some militants. We didn't know anything. They thrashed all of us and dragged my son out. That was the last time I saw him."

The family, thereafter, lodged an FIR at Batamaloo Police Station. And then a search began. "I have visited almost all the bureaucrats and top Army officials but failed to trace my son," she says. "He was the lone breadwinner for our family."

Heartbroken, but determined Raja Begum continued her search. "I went to the Army camp at Boatman colony, Bemina," she says. "They denied his arrest".

Begum didn't stop there. She filed a petition in the J&K high court. Here too, the case was disposed off but that didn't deter her. "I approached the then state home minister Ali Mohammad Sagar several times," she says. "Each time his PA told reassured me of Nisar's release." She visited the then J-K Governor too but even he couldn't help.

The distraught mother then had one more option left. She took up the case with State Human Rights Commission (SHRC). "After investigation, they (SHRC) recommended grant of ex-gratia," she says. "They told me that no action could be taken against the Army and advised me to go to the National Human Rights Commission (NHRC). They told me that only they could act against the Army."

During her search, Begum was duped many times. "People took money from me after promising to provide whereabouts of my son," she says. "I remember an ikhwani (a counter-insurgent) taking Rs 50,000 for giving information, but he never showed his face."

The 60-year-old Begum is exhausted but her determination to trace her son has not died down. Even after 10-years of his disappearance, she believes her son would return. "My son is very dear to me," she says. "He can't leave me alone. He will return one day."

A DISAPPEARANCE BEFORE THE MILITANCY BEGAN IN KASHMIR

Majid Jahangir

This missing case is different in that it took place before insurgency began. Farooq Ahmed Teli of south Kashmir's Tral was detained by police in 1988. Thirty years old then, Teli, a resident of Diver Tral, was picked up from his residence in March 1988 for allegedly duping some local people. Teli was a labourer and the family's lone bread earner.

Jelli his wife, accompanied by his brother, went to see him at Pahalgam police station. His wife says they met him in the lockup. He told them he was innocent and asked them to do something urgently for his release. The two assured Teli that everything will be fine. It was the last they saw of him.

The family has never seen him since and believes he is no more. Police say he escaped from custody.

"The next time we went to see him (Teli), police told us he had escaped from custody," recalls his wife who was then six months pregnant. "We were shocked to hear it and immediately lodged a case with the police."

Teli's neighbours and close relatives started a search for him. "We went from pillar to post, but to no avail," says his neighbour Mohammad Amin who has been following the case for the last 19 years. "A few policemen told the family in private that he had died in custody."

After Teli went missing, his wife faced tough days both on the domestic front as well in her search for her husband. "I worked as a domestic help and earned for my two sons and a daughter. Besides, I had to save money to follow my husband's case," says Jalli.

The family met senior police and civil officials to know the whereabouts of her husband and lodged a complaint with the State Human Rights Commission in 1997 accusing the police of custodial disappearance. The court later issued summons to police officials of the district. The court was informed by police that Teli had escaped from custody and an FIR was already registered in the case. Even as the family still waits for justice, they have lost all hope of Teli's return.

"I don't believe my husband will return," says Jelli. "He was intelligent. Had he been alive, he would have contacted us. But that never happened. So we have the firm belief that he is no more," says Jelli who had to face strange questions from her youngest son born after his father went missing. "My son Manzoor Ahmed asks me how he would recognise his father whom he has never seen. I have no answers for his simple questions. I console him giving him false hope."

A SCUFFLE THAT COST DEARLY

Inam ul Haq

This disappearance story has its genesis in a scuffle. Fifteen years ago, Sajad Ahmad Bazaz, who ran a grocery store at Hazaratbal, had a scuffle with Asghar, a militant from Nageen, as Asghar hadn't paid the bill for goods purchased from Sajad, the Bazaz family remembers.

A few days later, Asghar was arrested by the Border Security Force (BSF).

Thereafter, Asghar turned an informer. He took the BSF party not to a militant hideout but directly to the home of Sajad. In captivity, Asghar had not forgotten the scuffle with Sajad. "Sajad was sipping tea at home when there was a knock on the door," says Fayaz Ahmad, his older brother. I went out to see who it was. I was surprised to see BSF men. They grabbed me and my brother and paraded me before a masked person."

This is the story of December 12, 1992 when Srinagar was under curfew. The masked man, it later came to be known, was Asghar, who had became an informer for security forces. Sajad was taken away by security forces.

He has not returned home.

The father even took the case to the then Prime Minister PV Narasimha Rao, but Sajad remains untraced to this day. "I went to the police station to file an FIR," says 75-year-old Ghulam Mohammad Bazaz, who has been bed-ridden for 15 months now. "The SHO heard me patiently. But I was surprised to know that he hadn't filed an FIR. I am illiterate," he says.

Bazaz went to every jail, every interrogation centre and every security force camp hoping to find his son. "I couldn't find him anywhere," he says. "I went to Delhi and met the then Prime Minister PV Narasimha Rao. He assured me that my son would be safe and would be released".

The father also met the then Minister of State for Internal Security Rajesh Pilot. "I met him three times," he says. "He wrote a letter to then Governor asking him to act immediately". The letter that was also forwarded to the then Inspector General of BSF read: "Let me have the facts about this case. I would also appreciate knowing of the system the state government adopts to inform citizens of whereabouts of their family members in such cases".

Pilot's letter to the J-K Governor too failed to secure Sajad's release.

The family filed a case in J-K High court seeking whereabouts of their son. The court constituted a Commission which concluded that Sajad was arrested by BSF personnel. The J-K Crime Branch, in its investigations, too found the Deputy Commandant of BSF, D S Rathore and Asghar involved in the disappearance.

It has been 15 years since Sajad went missing in BSF custody. The fake encounters too have been exposed. But Sajad's family is hoping against hope. "He would be alive," says his father. "I can die peacefully only after I see him or his grave. I need to know about him". Perhaps that is why the family has declined the compensation from the state government.

THE MYSTERIOUS CALL

BASHAARAT MASOOD

Eight years ago, Latif Ahmad Baba left home to attend a phone call. He has not returned since. Who the caller was and what transpired between him and Latif is a mystery. Unravelling it could solve the disappearance case.

On April 15, at dusk, a local telephone booth owner told Latif that there was a call for him. "The caller speaks Urdu," he had said. When Latif left to attend the call, his family didn't know they would not see him again.

"He (Latif) left home to attend the call," his father Bashir Ahmad Baba says. "We waited for sometime but when it grew dark, we approached the booth owner. He told us that before leaving his shop, he (Latif) had an argument with the caller".

The anxious father wants to know the reason behind the disappearance of his 27-year-old son. "The next day, I went to the tailoring shop where Latif worked," he says. "They told me he had received some threat calls at the shop too. They were asking about Latif".

Latif was a tailor from Nawab Bazar in downtown city. His father doesn't know who is behind his disappearance. However, events preceding and following his son’s disappearance make him suspect police involvement. “Before his disappearance, he was picked up by police several times. He was severely tortured,” says the father. “After he disappeared, we went to register a case with Maharaj Gunj police. The then (Station House Officer) SHO there refused to register the FIR”. Latif's father says it was the same SHO, who had picked up Latif several times before his disappearance and who had even intimidated the family.

Bashir says in 2005, six years after Latif's disappearance, “some policemen from Maharaja Gunj Police Station came to my house and asked me to accompany them to Jammu. They told me that I have to meet one SHO Chowdhary there. My hopes were rekindled," he says. “However, I was shocked when they told me in Jammu that I have to accept that Latif was a government spy. They told me it would enable me to receive ex-gratia relief".

Bashir didn't accept.

The family still hopes for Latif's return. The day he disappeared, Latif's mother had cooked curry of his choice. He couldn't not eat it that day. But his mother hopes he will return someday and she will again cook the same dish for him. "He will return one day," his mother Manzoora says.

I WANT TO KNOW ONLY WHETHER HE IS ALIVE OR DEAD.

Mir Ehsan

He loved cricket and was very good at it. Considered a genius among contemporaries, Sajjad Majid would have made a mark in sports, all his friends believed. But that did not happen. His family and friends have not seen him for 17 years. Their belief, that he would return, too has faded.

On March 13, 1990, Sajjad, along with some of his friends, left for Pakistan-occupied-Kashmir (PoK) allegedly for training. The group was intercepted by troops near the Line of Control in Gulmarg. Some of the members of the group lost their lives. Sajjad's family was told by some top officials that Sajjad was not among the dead. The information gave strong belief to the family that he had survived the encounter.

Thereafter began the search for Sajjad not only in the state but also outside. In the search for his son, Abdul Majid left no stone unturned and met all senior officials in the state administration. "To know my son's whereabouts, I met the then Governor Girish Saxena," recalls his father. "The Governor gave me a kind hearing and assured our family of full help in tracing our son."

On the Governor's instructions, Sajjad's father also met the then J-K Director General of Police. "The DGP showed me an album containing photographs of all the persons killed in the Gulmarg encounter. Sajjad's photograph was not there," he says. This rekindled hopes and spurred a vigorous search for Sajjad, but all in vain.

"We couldn't locate him (Sajjad) in jails of Kashmir," he says. But the father didn't lose heart. One day, someone told Sajjad's father that his son was lodged in Rajasthan jail. "I left for Rajasthan, met the jail superintendent there and told him about my son," he says and adds that at the jail, officers showed him a long list of prisoners of Kashmiri origin. "But my son was not there."

Majeed wants to know where his son is and what had happened to him. "At least, I want to know whether he is alive or dead," he said. Sajjad's disappearance has affected his health. "After my son's disappearance, I have been keeping unwell and have to get regular medical treatment."

"He was a good cricketer and a good human being," says Fayaz Ahmad, a friend of Sajjad who was his classmate.

"I don't think he will be alive now as 17 years is a long time." But Ahmad has not stopped praying for his return. "He was my childhood friend. He had the ambition to earn fame and name for the family," he says and adds. "Alas, he could not keep his promise."

'EVERY DAY MY FATHER WOULD VISIT BSF CAMPS HOPING FOR NEWS'

Inam Ul Haq

On December 11, 1991 Mohammad Altaf Sheikh ( 23) was working at his carpet factory in Botakadal, Lalbazar, along with his colleagues when a gypsy of the Border Security Forces (BSF) raided the factory and picked him up, say his family members. Altaf has never returned since.


Immediately, after his arrest, family members and neighbours held a demonstration to put pressure on government to release him. Later, no security agency claimed responsibility for his arrest.

"Every day my father would visit BSF camps hoping for news about his son," says Yasmeena, Altaf's sister. "But no one was ready to divulge information." Altaf's father could not bear the loss of his son and died.

In 1997, a ray of hope rekindled. Shiekh's ailing mother Rafiqa Begum got a letter written by someone on behalf of Shiekh. In the letter Shiekh mentioned he was kept at the Air Cargo jail in Srinagar and will be shifted to Badamibagh.

"We managed a security pass for Badamibagh. Unfortunately, the officer-in-charge did not allow me to see my son and denied he was in the camp," says Rafiqa.

Rafiqa says she saw her son whose hands where tied in a vehicle in Badamibagh. "He (Altaf) too saw me and I ran after the vehicle but the guards closed the door and the vehicles left," recalls Rafiqa.

After the incident, Rafiqa lost her mental balance and was admitted to a hospital for a year. "I lost my son and my husband too. What worse I can see now?"

Altaf's family had filed a habeas corpus petition in J-K High Court. "We don't have resources to follow it now," says Rafiqa.

COUSIN WAS LUCKY TO SURVIVE BUT HE HIMSELF WASN’T

MIR EHSAN

It was October 15, 2000, a Sunday. A landmine blast had ripped through the Nihalpora area of Pattan, killing many soldiers the previous day. The angry troops, allege locals, picked up several civilians for interrogation.

Ghulam Mohammad Mir and his cousin Manzoor Ahmad Dar were two of them. A few days later, Manzoor was released, raising hopes of Mir’s return next. Now, more than six years later, his family is still waiting for Mir, or at least his news, good or bad.

With Mir had gone the poor family’s sole earning member. Mir drove a taxi, KMT 1230, for a living.

Recalling the seven-year-old incident, Nihalpora villagers said militants triggered the blast but it was they who had to face the ire of the troops. “They (troops) were looking for the reprisals. Finally, they got a scapegoat in the young taxi driver Ghulam Mohamad Mir,” said Abdul Majid, a village elder.

Relatives and family members alleged that the Army arrested Mir along with his cousin Manzoor Ahmad Dar, who hails from Sumbal, and took them to Vetpora Army camp where they were subjected to severe torture for many days. Even family members were not allowed to meet them.

Manzoor was, however, released after a few days, on October 18. His condition was critical, but the family heaved a sigh of relief, thinking Mir, too, would be released soon. “I asked Manzoor about my son,” said Mir’s father Abdul Khaliq. “But he failed to answer my queries. We went to the Vetpora camp and met officials to enquire about Mir. They told us to come the next day and also assured us of his early release,” says Abdul Khaliq. “I waited for several days. Finally, we lodged a missing report with police,” he added.

Abdul is not happy with the police investigations, and also questions the role of the police. “What have the police done in the past seven years,” he asks. “My son was simple. He had nothing to do with militants. I fail to understand why was he taken into custody,” he said. “He was the lone bread earner of the family.”

Losing faith on the police, the family finally filed a petition before the State Human Rights Commission (SHRC). In his complaint, Abdul said his son never had any militant links. “Help me save my son,” wrote Mir to the Commission. He still hopes that his son will return. “I am hopeful. My son is missing. He will come back,” he said.

The SHRC has taken cognizance of the matter and asked the police to furnish a detailed report about the missing youth. “We still are in touch with the police to know what actually happened to my son,” said Abdul.

AMONG KASHMIR’S MISSING, EMINENT EDUCATIONIST

MIR EHSAN

He was a respected teacher, an eminent educationist, and a heart full of passion for poetry. But these didn't prove sound alibi for the 59-year-old retired principal to be taken into custody.

On his way back from the mosque on May 13, 1994, Sonullah Nissar, was picked up by Army's 3 Para. "Our neighbours informed us about the arrest," says Dr Muzafar, Nissar's son.

Counted among the top educationists of south Kashmir, Nissar's disappearance caused a lot of ripple. Nobody could associate this teacher's alleged link with militancy. "Over the years I have left no stone unturned to trace my father. Knocked doors of all political leaders, but nothing worked," he said.

It was hard for the family to even get information as to who actually picked up the teacher. "We hoped my father's antecedents would help him get an early release and even approached the Army, police and officials of district administration. It was the then deputy commissioner of Anantnag who confirmed about the arrest by troops of 3 Para," Muzafar said.

Initially, Army officers were cordial and agreed to the family's request to meet Nissar. "They asked us to get approval letter to meet my father. We met all senior officials of Army and commanding officers of the units," Dr Muzafar recalls. But once the formalities were over, there was a twist in the tale. "Army officials refused to even acknowledge about arrest of my father," he said. "That moment I realised my father was no more."

After thirteen years, his family cannot think of his return. "I am sure, my father was killed in custody," says Dr Muzafar. "I last saw him when he left for the mosque to offer evening prayers."

On the other hand, Army had only one answer: Nissar had links with Jamaat Islami, a political organisation that contested elections many times. "He was put to death just for being a Jamaat member," says the surprised son.

Not ready to accept such an allegation, Muzafar "gathered" character certificate from everywhere. "Not only did I produced non-involvement certificate from police to the Army, I also got a certificate from my father's department."

"We even registered a case with the state Human Rights Commission," Dr Muzafar said. The family also met the then J-K Governor G C Saksena. Even promise of the government's highest functionary proved to be a lie.

"Losing hopes from the state officials, I wrote a detailed letter to L K Advani, then Central Home Minister. But, he didn't reply to my letter," he said.

Among all these melee, Nissar's old wife is not ready to accept allegation of her "dead" husband. "I am sure my husband has been killed by the Army," says Zeba Begum, a retired government employee. "If there is any democracy here, I want the Army men responsible in killing my husband be punished," she said. "Otherwise, I will think human life has no value."

WILL HE EVER RETURN? WONDERS BROTHER

TOUFIQ RASHID

A one-room house in the interiors of Rainawari in the old city area and two mentally disturbed siblings. This is what my brother will come back to. If he ever returns,” says Muneer Hussain, a student of class 10.

Muneer’s older brother Mohd Hussain Ashraf had gone to stay over at the house of one of his relatives in Panthachowk on the outskirts of Srinagar. He never returned.

The carpet weaver, who was 18 years old then, was picked up by a company of the 7 Para Rashtriya Rifles on his way back home on May 24, 2003, according to his family.

The family came to know of the arrest by chance. “The police party had stopped at a Mahindra workshop to check their vehicle. My brother had quickly passed on the message to one of the employees there and asked him to inform the family,” he adds.

The proof for them is the vehicle number, which they have mentioned in the FIR. “The party was from Khrew army camp,” adds 16-year-old Muneer.

The next day, the family tried approaching the camp authorities but in vain. Finally, when they were able to speak to the higher officials there, they refused to acknowledge the arrest. “They simply said we haven’t picked up anybody,” he says.

The family alleges that the local Panthachowk police did not file a missing complaint on time and it was after constant pursuance that the FIR was finally registered on June 5, 2003.

The family made several representations to various politicians and even met the then chief minister Mufti Sayeed. However, there was no redressal. The case went to Jammu and Kashmir State Human Rights Commission and Justice A M Mir, in his order dated 23-09-2004, stated that Mohd Hussain was picked up at Sempura and “foul play by NCA (Northern Command) is suspected”. The judge ordered that ex-gratia relief of Rs 1 lakh be given to the family and employment provided to one of the family members. However, nothing was done.

“We have a hand-to-mouth existence. Our father, a tailor, has been searching for my brother for the last four years. So his earnings are negligible. My mother earns a little by working as a labourer,” he says.

He says two of his siblings, a younger brother and sister were under severe depression. “We are five brothers and sisters now. If they just tell us that some Athashar (mishap) has happened, we will try and get on with life,” he adds.

“This way, we are just hanging between hope and despair,” Muneer says, wiping away tears.