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?"

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.

MOTHER NOW AWAITS SON’S KNOCK ON THE DOOR

MAJID JAHANGIR

The family of Mukhtar Ahmad Beig can never forget the knock on their door on the midnight of September 26, 2000.

The door was opened by one of the family members. It was the army, say the family members. They recall how the entire family was herded into a room and Beig was taken away by the troops.

There is no news of him since. The troops refused having arrested Beig, who was militant earlier. He had joined militancy in early nineties. He was picked by troops and released later. He had been leading a normal life since 1996 and earning his living selling cigarettes. He was 27 years old when he was picked up.

Beig’s father, two brothers and three sisters have lost hope of Beig ever returning. But not Beig’s mother, 65-year-old Taja Begum. “I will see my son one day,” says Taja, who is seen most of the time praying for her son.

Taja Begum, who is suffering from a heart problem, recounts the day she last saw her son: “The army said they wanted to search the house. I was too shocked to count them. The entire family was in a shock. Every part of the house was searched.”

“They took my son along with them. They told us they would ask him certain questions and release him the next day. But he was’nt. I never found why my son was picked up,” she says. “My son was a released militant and had been living a normal life since 1996. When we contacted the police and the army, they refused having arrested him. We moved from pillar to post to trace Beig.” The family also lodged a complaint with Sonawar police. “Since 1996, Beig had not been involved in any militancy even remotely,” says one of his relatives.

AFTER PRAYERS, FERVENT HOPE REMAINS

BASHARAAT MASOOD

Taja Begum used to pray for a grandson. Her son Mohammad Akbar Khan had been married for more than a decade but had no child. Fifteen years ago, her prayers changed. She wanted her Khan to return home. Today, she says she has lost all hope of seeing him alive. She just wants a glimpse of his grave before she dies.


In 1992, on the night of February 28, there was a knock at Khan’s door at Pathukhah Muqam, his family recalls. Khan opened the door and found BSF personnel waiting outside, they say and add that Khan was arrested by the troops led by officer Tyagi. “They picked him up and bundled him into a vehicle," says Khan's cousin Ghulam Mohammad. “They didn't tell us why”.

Khan was a Senior Reading Inspector with J-K's Power Development Department (PDD).

At dawn, Taja Begum, Khan’s wife Nabla and his sister Saja started searching for him. “We looked for him everywhere,” says 70-year-old Taja Begum.

A month later, came the first clue. The family says Manzoor Ahmad, a resident of Sangrama in Sopore, told them he had seen Khan at the BSF camp in Mazbugh, Sopore, where Ahmad was under detention. “He was being ruthlessly tortured. I don’t know whether he survived,”Ahmad is said to have told them and handed them over his Phiran (Kashmiri gown he was wearing at the time of his arrest) and watch saying Khan had handed them over to him at the BSF camp. The family soon lodged an FIR with Sopore police station. “We felt they have killed him,” Khan’s 45-year-old sister Saja says. Khan’s wife Nabla returned to her parents. She didn’t remarry. Left alone, Tajia Begum started living with her daughter’s family in her ancestral home. Taja Begum has lost hope of her son's return but she has a regret. “There is no one to carry forward the genes of the family,” she says. It keeps her in tears all the time. Her eyesight has become very weak. “He was my lone son,” she says. Now that fake encounters have been exposed, Taja Begum doesn’t long for a reunion with her son. “I am old. I will die any day. I couldn’t see even his body,” she says. “If somebody would tell me where he is buried, I will dig up the grave and embrace his skeleton. I would die a peaceful death”.

FOR 14 YEARS, MATOO HAS BEEN WAITING TO SEE ONLY SON WHO DISAPPEARED WHEN HE WAS ONLY 13

MIR EHSAN

After 14 years of wait, Ghulam Nabi Matoo, 60, still hopes that his only son Javid Ahmad will return to bail the three-member family, which now puts up at Fateh Kadal locality, out of poverty.


Matoo says he can never forget the day his son was picked up by the BSF, November 3, 1993. Ahmed was just 13 years old then and was studying in class VII.

"I remember the day my son disappeared," says Matoo who drives an auto-rickshaw for a living. "Being my only son, he was the apple of my eyes. The day he was arrested we were having lunch at our house in Pulwama," he said adding that a BSF party led by an officer told him that his son will be set free after some investigation. "To avoid my son's arrest I even offered myself to the troops."

Ahmad did not return that night. Mattoo, along with other family members, went to the camp the next morning. "The officers showed me some rounds of ammunition they claimed to have recovered from my son's possession," he said, adding that the officer still assured him that the boy will be released without harm.

Matoo says he met his son at the camp and was sure he will be set free within a few days. Five days later came the shocking news. "After offering me a cup of tea, the officer told me my son had escaped during an exchange of fire between troops and militants in Pulwama," he said tears rolling down his cheeks. "That was the moment I thought my son has been killed," he says. He pleaded that his son was innocent. "But nobody was ready to hear my woes."

Matoo also registered a case at the local police station about the disappearance of his son. Six months later came some "good" news about Ahmad. A neighbour told the family that somebody had seen Ahmad at a BSF camp in Hazratbal. "We approached the camp in charge. But he denied that my son was there."

Matoo is well aware that 14 years is a long time. But he has not lost hope. In the search for Ahmad, the family shifted to Srinagar from Pulwama. "Three years after my son went missing. My daughter, who was 15 years old, could not bear the absence of her brother and died of cardiac arrest," he said, adding that they were now only three members in the family. "Ours was a happy family. But after my son's disappearance everything changed," he said. "I used to dream about his future," he says. "Now I have only memories left. My son will return some day and bring happiness to the family."

Matoo has got himself associated with the APDP (Association of Parents of Disappeared Persons) and does not miss any sit-in to highlight Kashmir's missing people.

PROBE SUGGESTS HE IS DEAD, FAMILY STILL HOPES HE WILL RETURN ONE DAY

BASHAARAT MASOOD

Five years ago, Abdul Majeed Hajam had to shoulder a responsibility he was not ready for. The onus of supporting his big joint family fell on Majeed, then 23 years old. Reason: his older brother and sole breadwinner of the family, Abdul Rashid Hajam disappeared from Dandora village in 2002. After a good harvest, the family was expecting a trouble-free journey into next year.

On November 12, 2002, Rashid, then 32 years old, left in the morning to work in his fields as usual. But he didn’t return. The family started a search. Some villagers told them Rashid was picked up by Army personnel while he was working in the fields. “Rashid was picked up by the Army,” his brother Majeed says. “Two boys had seen them pick him up. They even told this to Army officials who later investigated Rashid’s disappearance”.

The next day, Majeed filed an FIR at Pattan police station. They continued their search. “I searched for him not only in Kashmir valley but also outside,” says Majeed. “I covered every security camp, every jail. I went to Ladakh, Kathua and Udhampur. But I didn’t find him”.

The Army’s own investigation initiated by its 29 Rashtriya Rifles (RR), meanwhile, continued for sometime and it, according to Majeed, concluded that Rashid “has been picked by an Army” van. “I received a letter from the (Commanding Officer) CO of the RR. In the letter, they acknowledged that my brother was picked up by the Army van on the day of his disappearance,” says Majeed. The family says Army investigation revealed that Rashid might have been killed and recommended ex-gratia. “However, they asked us to admit that he was a militant,” says Majeed. “How could have we done that when he was not a militant? They told us if you admit, you will get a government job and compensation of Rs 1 lakh too”.

Majeed didn’t accept that his brother was a militant and hence the compensation and government job eluded him. The 28-year-old Majeed supports the family, which includes the three children of his older brother, by doing menial jobs. In spite of the Army investigation revealing that Rashid might be dead, Majeed says, “My mind says he might be dead but my heart says he is alive.”

WIFE CLINGS ON TO A SINGLE HOPE OF HIS RETURN

MAJID JAHANGIR

Seven years have passed by since he was picked. And this Shah family in north Kashmir's Janbazpora area in Baramulla, still clinging on to a single "unrealistic" hope -- hope to see the only earning member back.

Habib-u-llah Shah, a mechanic in a government department was picked up seven years ago, allegedly by security forces. But till today relatives and neighbours are clueless as to why did such a thing happen to the father of three minors.

Thirty eight-year-old Habib-u-llah Shah was picked up allegedly by security men from his house at Baramulla on the intervening night of January 28, 2000. Shah, a mechanic in the Public Health Engineering, Baramulla, was the only bread earner in his family of five. His wife Haneefa, sons Ishfaq (10) and Imran (7) and daughter Sumaya (8). Since then Haneefa visited all the shrines in the Valley praying for her husbands return, and would accompany neighbours and relatives searching Army camps and police stations.

"We hunted all possible places, pleaded with security forces and the Army for informations," says Manzoor Ahmed a resident of the village who has been following Shah's case for the past seven years. "He was just an ordinary man, working to earn his livelihood. He didn't have any links with militancy. Why was he picked up is still a mystery."

The morning after he was picked up, the family lodged a complaint with police. But they had a different story to say. "Police claim Shah was picked by unidentified gunmen," recalls Ahmed. "Even the Army categorically any involvement with his arrest."

The night he was arrested spelled the dark days for the family. "On one hand we had to search for Shah and on the other we were concerned about the family," says Shah's brother-in-law Ghulam Hassan. It was Hassan who helped the family economically and is still standing-by them.

After all these years not many sees hope in his return. Shah's wife is, however, optimistic. "I still hope that one day he will return," says his wife Haneefa. "He is innocent and I have faith in God."

After the recent fake encounter killing was exposed by J-K Police, a new fear of "knowing the truth" has taken over the hopeful souls. Villagers are now more than sure that Habib-ul-llah must be buried somewhere. "We fear Shah must be lying in some unknown grave," says a neighbour. "Had he been alive or languishing in any jail he would have contacted the family by any means."