Beyond Waiting
R S Reen
rsinghreen@gmail.com
A Zoom call, initiated by a group of Kashmiri Pandit (KP) thinkers in the USA, was meant to be a focused discussion on the “Kashmir Problem.” For them, the problem was a litany of painful, immediate concerns: the lack of prosecutions for past crimes, the haunting reality of migration, and the deep-seated fear that keeps the old and the new generations away. In their minds, the solution is singular and simple: wait. Wait for peace, wait for security to become perfect, wait for the valley to become the Kashmir of 1989, so they can return and live the life they lost.
As I listened, my mind drifted. It drifted to 1984, when thousands of Sikhs were butchered in the streets of Delhi. Forty-two years have passed. Delhi has moved on, built a new skyline, and hosted global events. But the Sikhs are still there, in their gurudwaras and memories. And only now, after four decades, has some measure of justice or compensation been offered by the current BJP government-not by the AAP government in Delhi, which should have been most vocal.
This is the cruel reality that our KP friends, waiting for a utopian “before 1989” Kashmir,refuse to see. They are waiting for a miracle, for a time machine that will reverse 35 years of conflict, bloodshed, and societal transformation. They want to come back not as participants in a new Kashmir, but as heirs to a ghost. This, I fear, is a recipe for perpetual displacement. Kashmir, in my view, will remain in a state of conflict management for the foreseeable future. A “perfect solution” is a fantasy. So, if the perfect conditions never come, do they never return?
The question then becomes: what reason can our KP brothers and neighbours, who were forced out of their homes, find to come back? The answer cannot be the one they have been repeating for years: government jobs and secure townships. It is mathematically and politically impossible. With reservation policies consuming over 70% of available jobs, the well is dry. The Jagti township, a colony built by the government, is a testament to what can be done, but it is also a gilded cage, an Internally Displaced Persons (IDP) camp with at best, better amenities. It is not a homecoming; it is managed exile.
We need to change the entire narrative. From victims to victorious. From IDPs to stakeholders.Look at the incredible, unintentional success of the last three decades. Based on hard work and tremendous efforts despite hardships aided by migrant quotas, a massive pool of Kashmiri Pandit doctors and engineers has been created. This is our greatest asset. They are professionals par excellence. What if, instead of waiting for a government job, they came together? What if they pooled their resources, their skills, their collective will?
Imagine a Mega Corporate Hospital, built by KPs, for all the people of Kashmir. Staffed by KP doctors who left and returned, it would not only provide self-employment but would be a powerful act of reconciliation. It would be a service to the very neighbours
from whom they feel alienated. Imagine a Mega Software Park, a Silicon Valley in the making, employing KP engineers and local youth, building bridges of code and commerce where bridges of trust have burned. This is not a dream. This is a viable economic model. Ownership brings commitment.
Time and again, the issue of Sharda Peeth is raised. A small temple and a Gurudwara stand in Teethwal valley. Sentiment is valid, but so is pragmatism. We have enough Gurudwaras, and the number of temples should reflect the population on the ground.
Let the Mattan temple-Gurdwara dispute, a 70-year-old fight over a 20×80 ft room, be a cautionary tale. Let us not create another flashpoint.
Instead, let us think bigger. Let us build the Sharda University in the Teethwal area. If Nalanda can be revived, why not Sharda? This would be the ultimate homecoming. It would bring back 500 KP teachers. It would revive the extinct Sharda Lipi. It would teach skills, not just scriptures. The J&K High Court’s recent judgment that PoJK is an integral part of J&K provides a legal opening: reserve seats for people of that area, or declare it a KP minority institution. Offer free education to any KP family that returns with a purpose to stay, to rebuild, to become a part of their motherland again.
This is a meaningful return. A return with purpose.
But for this to happen, attitude and gratitude are paramount. The recently concluded 350th anniversary of Guru Teg Bahadur Sahib Ji was a golden opportunity. We remember his martyrdom for the Kashmiri Pandits when Janju and Tilak were in danger. A procession went from Mattan to Anandpur Sahib. A large, visible participation from the KP community was the least that was expected. It did not have to be from the valley alone; the thriving Jagti township could have sent thousands. There was not even tokenism. Why? Was the Mattan dispute more important than honouring the Guru who gave his life for them?
This is the uncomfortable question we must ask. A community that cannot show gratitude for its saviours is a community that has possibly lost its moral compass.
Let us not forget the other sacrifices. The J&K Police has a casualty rate of 1643*. The maximum sacrifice is from the majority community, a fact that is silent and unseen. But at least 200+, and likely more, must be from the least talked-about silent micro-minority: the Sikhs of Kashmir. They have been there, bleeding with the land, with no “migrant quota” to fall back on. Where is their story?
There are two ways of existence: the path of development or the path of resistance. Our KP friends have been on the path of resistance-resistance to the present, resistance to acceptance, resistance to building a new future in their own homeland. They are waiting
for a past that will never return.
The movies like ‘The Kashmir Files’ or ‘Baramulla’ are important. They highlight the trauma. But a better movie would be one that touches all communities, that brings out the suffering of the Sikh, the Gujjar, the Pahari, and the Kashmiri Muslim. Maybe that is what Vivek Agnihotri ji is thinking for his next film.
The road home is long, but it is not blocked by security. It is blocked by our own mindset. It is time to stop waiting for the government. It is also time for the Kashmiri Pandit community to look in the mirror and ask: do we want to be a memory, or do we want to be a future? Do we want to return to our roots?
The choice is simple. Stop waiting. Start building… All communities all religions as one people.
(The author is Former DGQA)
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