Clicks and Kicks

A picture is worth a thousand words. True. But ever thought who are these guys who risk their lives, work in extremely dangerous conditions, inside world’s most volatile areas, under the deep seas, in the line of fire, behind enemy lines and in every such place that says trouble – they are the photojournalist.

Kashmir’s story is no different. Photojournalists recording Kashmir’s troubled history since last 25 years have braved bullets, batons, teargases, jackboots, angry mobs, bereaved families, trauma and self-doubts to a vale that would have been consumed to history. Durdana Bhat talks to some of the photojournalist

MEHRAJ-U-DIN

(Associated Press)

In 1979, I started my career as a photojournalist with a local Urdu daily Srinagar Times. By 1995, I had switched my job. Since then, I have been working as a video journalist.

I was second photojournalist in Kashmir after Mohammad Amin. At peak militancy, there were just a few photojournalists working in Kashmir. Srinagar was literally ruled by the Border Security Force (BSF) then. They used to get mad at anybody carrying a camera. It was no cakewalk to work as a photojournalist in a conflict zone. I faced angry mob and irate forces; received thrashing number of times.

While covering stone pelting once at Jehangir Chowk where later a youth was killed, I first faced police action before being roughed up by raged mob. I kept shouting at them: “I work in newspaper, but I wasn’t spared. My clothes were torn.” But after the incident, I went to home, changed clothes and stepped out to discharge my daily routine. And life was back to normal.

HABIB NAQASH

(Greater Kashmir)

I was an idler. I wasn’t into studies. I only studied till 6th grade. The decision made my elder brother to lock me up inside a room. He insisted that I must continue my studies. I refused. I was not interested. Then one day I saw some photographs in a photo studio and I liked them. I wanted to learn it. My family also agreed. They thought that after learning they will establish a shop for me.

The first camera I used was Nikon.

In 1983, I joined Daily Aftab, on a monthly wages of Rs 300. I was barely 16 then. That was my first job. I worked with them till 1985. By that time a few more newspapers had come up. I started working as a freelancer till 1990 before working with Kashmir’s first English language newspaper Greater Kashmir. In 1994, I joined Asian Age. I still work with them.

During those days, photojournalism was a different ball game. We had to develop the pictures and cut the film strip as the film roll wouldn’t be fully used in one go. If it were 3-4 photos, then it was only that much of the roll that we would cut and develop. And then the print was submitted to the agency.

In 90s, going out after dark was impossible. Though we used to carry our equipment freely during the day, but risk element was always there. But militants never attacked us or harmed us. They would hold press conferences on a regular basis.

When I joined this profession I hardly knew the risks attached. I got my first thrashing in 1983 immediately after I had joined my first job. I was sent on an assignment to cover some government issue, where I was beaten by the drivers. I remember coming back crying. I almost quit the job that day.

And then in 1985, I was beaten up by lathis. I was in Nowhatta covering a stone pelting incident.

Over the years I am a bit used to people’s reactions. I understand that it is going to be tough to cover a civilian killing or a funeral. There is always this charged up atmosphere around. I don’t mind relatives of the deceased reacting violently. But people rarely attack photojournalists. It is often the men in uniform.

BILAL BAHADUR

 (Kashmir Life)

This incident happened in 2006. I along with my fellow photojournalist – Danish Ismail went to Tral in south Kashmir to cover funeral of two militants killed in an ambush.

The killings had triggered violent protests and people were raising anti-India slogans. Within no time, Special Operations Groups (SOG) showed up. When they watched us clicking pictures of the protests, they got mad. They dragged us along and started beating us. After done with beating, they let us go, half-dead!

For me the most difficult time to work as a photojournalist was during summer 2010 uprising. We used to cover frequent funerals of the young boys killed in forces action. Death was dancing over Kashmir like anything. And to cover the acts of death and destruction, I was jabbed, kicked and whipped.

And the same treatment still continues. I recently faced mad men who kicked and punched me to their hearts’ consent at Nowhatta for covering signature Friday protest there. I believe, these are inevitable occupational hazards. So, no complains.

YAWAR KABLI

(Getty Images)

In 2006, I was covering the funeral of Inayatullah Bhat, a musician who was killed by CRPF troops at Munawarabad. Unfortunately, I went from the protesters side. I was beaten. The only thing I have learned in the strife-torn Kashmir: Do not argue with the crowd. I somehow managed to save my camera. I didn’t argue with the protestors. That was the first time I was thrashed. At that time I was working for Reuters as Picture Stringer.

During 2008-09 elections, I and my colleagues were covering protest in Sopore on a cold foggy morning. The young protestors stepped on the roads and started raising anti-Indian slogans. All of sudden, I saw a police vehicle coming towards protestors. I tried to cover the protests from a close range. It was a mistake. The officer inside the vehicle ordered his subordinates: Press walaon ko maroo (Beat all the press people).

They hit me with their bamboo sticks. Next they started hitting my friend, Mukhtar Khan working with AP. They broke his camera. My other colleagues were also thrashed.

And then in 2011, I and my colleagues were caught by CRPF men in old city’s Rajouri Kadal for covering protest and were beaten ruthlessly. Our fault! We were covering the event from protestors’ side. After beating, we were bundled in a police vehicle. I saw blood oozing from colleagues’ nose. They used vituperation and kicked us.

Later a senior police officer named Showkat ordered us to come out of the vehicle. Before letting us go, he kicked us and slapped us continuously. His men searched our camera bags and snatched all our phones.

 

SHAHID TANTRAY 

(Freelance Photojournalist)

It is a big deal to be a photo journalist in Kashmir. Besides harassments, we face prison, as if we are criminals!

On one Friday when Kashmir was shut on Geelani’s call, I went to cover clashes in old city’s Saraf Kadal along with my colleague, Showkat Shafi. The police and paramilitary had surrounded the stone throwing youth from every side. They started to run for safety. I was from the side of forces.

Suddenly some CRPF personals came and started beating me with bamboo sticks. They kicked me with their long leather boots, assaulted me with gun butts. One personal slammed my head with a brick.

Later, I was taken to Police Station Nowhatta in an armored police vehicle packed with scores of minors cum alleged stone pelters. On that day, 53 youths were arrested.

My health condition was very bad. I had never experienced the kind of situation, which I faced that day. I was taken to Police control room for treatment. Doctors ordered the cops to open my cuffs, saying: “He suffers from multiple injuries.”

Later, I was again handcuffed, taken to police station Nowhatta.

Somehow I managed to call my mentor¬¬ Danish Ismail who came quickly.

The SHO told Danish, “You can take him.” Before leaving, I told them to give me my camera back. They handed over my broken camera and lenses.

Danish took me to Bone and Joint hospital, Barzulla. I had fractures in my neck and ankle. An Iron nail was stuck in my right elbow. I was shifted to SKIMS.

Next day, I was discharged from the hospital. But, I was bed-ridden for a month.

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