Dr Kulvir Gupta
Partition of British India let lose the religious frenzy of unimaginable magnitude across the length and breadth of the country. The princely state of Jammu and Kasmir did not remain untouched. Pakistan launched “Operation Gulmarg” with a huge force of Pathans from Kheyberpukhtunwa, Razakars, and Pak regulars on Oct 22 1947 to capture Srinagar the summer capital of the state. The first attack was launched at Muzaffarabad which was spearheaded towards Uri, Baramulla, and Srinagar. The second column advanced towards Poonch, Rajouri, Naushera, Kotli, Mirpur, and Bhimber. Barbarism committed at Muzaffarabad Uri and Baramulla was repeated at Rajouri and Naushera while Poonch was saved by the brilliant leadership of Brig Pritam Singh. Mirpur and Bhimber remained under siege for over a month and fell on 25 Nov 1947 for want of help from the Indian Army which had reached Jhangar by then, a distance of 20 odd miles from Mirpur. Thus our state was amputated and POJAK was created with one-third of the territory of our state.
I hereby narrate an account by a survivor of Mirpur massacre from my autobiography, “Embers The Begining and Embers The end of Mirpur”. Published by Olympia Publishers, London, in Aug 2018, to bring out the magnitude of atrocities committed in the towns and cities captured by the Pak raiders. The pattern was a repeat of what had happened at Muzaffarabad, Baramulla, Rajouri, and Naushera if not more. Twenty thousand Hindus and Sikhs were massacred at Mirpur alone.
LOCATION: Gurudwara Alibeg was being used as a Prison Camp for the fleeing civilians from Mirpur. Date: 03 Dec 1947
“Late in the afternoon soldiers started blowing whistles and asked all able-bodied men to assemble in the courtyard. Out of the crowd, they asked about forty-odd men to march out of the main gate of the Gurudwara, my father was one of the few of them who were accompanied by infants or toddlers and were asked to leave them behind next to the kin. Some of them obeyed and returned after leaving the kids behind while others informed them that there was none to leave the kids behind as either their mothers were snatched away or killed, such persons were asked to return along with the kids to their rooms. Nobody knew where the selected men were being led to, the rest of the crowd was asked to disperse. Few of us watched the receding figures of our dear ones being escorted by a few soldiers.
As the time passedby and the sun started descending family members of those who were taken away got anxious and some of them including my brother Dharamvir Ji approached the sentries at the gate to enquire about their kin. The sentries informed them that they have been taken to Jhelum, a nearby town, to bring rations for the camp and will return on the next day. Nobody was convinced and the anxiety grew, an old lady a relative of ours, from the next room came to my mother to enquire where had her son been taken to? Both of them cried helplessly and none of us in the room slept for the rest of the night. The next morning my mother’s uncle, in his late fifties and having a frail figure walked in and sat by my crying mother’s side and put his hand around her and with tears in his eyes whispered, there is no use crying as it is all over. “I would not have been here but for my six-year-old granddaughter who was accompanying me. They asked me to leave her to her mother, on being told that she had already been taken away they sent me back along with her.” There were a few more deaths in the camp during the night owing to the cold, hunger, and disease. Few men were assigned the task of disposing of their bodies into the Mangla canal by the side of the bridge. What they witnessed at that site was unbelievable : it appeared as if the soil had been washed with blood, and several clothes were scattered all over the place. It was not difficult for them to understand the horror that might have stuck there the previous evening.
We could have never known what transpired on that dreadful evening on the banks of Mangla canal where the carnage happened, but for the following narrative and experience of Harbans Lal Ji, the sole survivor of the lot. They were all led to the banks of Mangla canal near the bridge which we had crossed a few days back. All of them were asked to strip and leave their attire in a heap and lineup. No one had any doubt about what was coming next. The first one nearest to the bank of the canal was brutalized by four or five soldiers who started hitting him with military boots on his genitals and abdomen, as he fell down the butts of rifles were used to bash his head and bayonets on his abdomen before dumping him into the canal. It is difficult to put into the words what could have been the feelings of those naked bodies standing in the queue. Some of them collapsed and fell on witnessing the proceedings before them.
I cannot imagine nor would I like to guess at what rank my dear father stood in the queue? His thoughts must have gone to his family of five sons and a frail wife who had delivered the last one just a few days back. He did not even have a chance to bid farewell to his loved ones and must have realized that he will never have one. As the years went by I was in my teens and heard the narrative of Sh. Harbans Lal Ji’s experience through an elderly relative of ours. The gravity of the event seeped in and I could not sleep for many nights. Whenever I tried to close my eyes brutalities committed on Dec.03.1947 on the banks of Mangla canal haunted me, I experience kicks of military boots on my body and hits of rifle butts on my head, and bayonets piercing my abdomen. This has happened innumerable times over the years.
They seemed to be drawing sadistic pleasure while doing the devil’s bidding. A young man in his early thirties begged them that he may be killed with a bullet, in doing so he clung to a soldier’s legs. “Ek Kaffir ke liye aath anna kuon zaya karoon? (Why should we waste eight annas – half a rupee, for a kaffir -a nonbeliever) So saying he hit his head with the butt of his rifle and asked his colleague to gouge out his eyes. While the bunch of soldiers was busy with the victim at hand, ten-odd other soldiers were guarding the remaining victims on death row. They stood naked showing their ribs and shrunken bellies for they did not have a wholesome meal during the last eight days since they left their homes, they were trembling, their faces drained of blood. What thoughts must be crossing those who were watching the treatment being meted out to the victims preceding them, it is difficult to imagine.
Finding a gap between two soldiers, naked, he ( Harbans Lal Ji) ran towards the bank of the canal and flung himself into the icy cold water, not knowing whether he will hit a boulder or a thorny bush. This action of his was not aimed at saving his life but to escape the torture, which he had witnessed, was being inflicted on the victims that preceded him, my father was one amongst them. They took them one by one and four or five soldiers would pounce upon the victim, hitting their naked bodies with boots, rifle butts, and the bayonets, hurling abuses at the victims, their religion, and their gods. It seemed they were in no hurry to finish the job.
Many debates and discussions have taken place over the last 75 years since the independence of the country to fix the responsibility for the present predicament of the state. Some people accuse Pt. Nehru and Sheikh Mohd Abdhulla for it while the others blame Maharaja Hari Singh and his advisers for the imbroglio. I firmly believe that, if the Instrument of Accession had been signed a month or two before26 Oct 1947, the history of the state of Jammu and Kashmir would have followed a different and brighter course, the loss of territory and loss of thousands of lives could have been prevented. The Indian armed forces would have deprived Pakistan of the opportunity to launch an invasion of Jammu and Kashmir.
The present government at the center is doing its best to correct the wrongs of previous governments. Abolition of Article 370 and 35-A and Panchayat Elections in the UTs show the intent of the present dispensation at the center.
Three generations have gone by and we are still waiting for a unified Jammu and Kashmir. It is more than the government at the center or the UTs that the people have to correct the course for a brighter future. We have to erase the ethnic, religious, and regional dividing lines which are the tools in the hands of unscrupulous politicians. The sooner we do the better.
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