When 바카라�Shujaat바카라� Was Silenced In Kashmir

바카라�바카라�I am here. No, No. I am not going anywhere. I am not going anywhere for some time바카라�,바카라� this is perhaps the last conversation of slain editor Shujaat Bukhari with one of his friends.

On that evening in 2018, I was sitting inside the newsroom of the paper I worked for then. I still remember chatting with the senior editor at the organisation. It was probably some half an hour before Iftaar time (fast breaking time during Ramzan). He would narrate stories of pain and anguish that Kashmir had witnessed during the 90s. It was an era of tragedy, it was all blood drenched, he would often tell me.

He would often mesmerize me with his anecdotes. He was a master storyteller. He would often acquaint me with the backstories of the 바카라�players in the game바카라�. He would tell me about the people who stood for their 바카라�holy cause바카라� and also of the people who went with the tide for their 바카라�unholy business바카라�, the ones who made big fortunes out of Kashmir바카라�s tragedy.

A retired school master, who had impeccable editing skills, on that June 14 evening, was narrating his own ordeal. He was arrested during the 90s on mere suspicion and subjected to extreme torture. As he was narrating his ordeal, I heard gunshot-like sounds. It was as if somebody was bursting crackers just outside our office. 바카라�Firing,바카라� I blurted out. This made my senior colleague laugh.

바카라�Che ma chuueth wuchmeut namath (You have not seen the 90s),바카라� he said and continued to laugh. 바카라�This is usual on Eid. The children burst crackers every time ahead of Eid at Pratap Park. What are you saying?바카라� the senior colleague said.

His reply was enough to make me quiet. After all I thought he is an 바카라�encyclopedia바카라� on turbulent Kashmir. There isn바카라�t a chance that he could get it wrong, I thought.

The city centre Lal Chowk had been bustling with Eid-ul-Fitr festivities. The people were busy shopping in the market for the auspicious festival. The festival was just two days away.

As I was having a chat with my senior colleague, one of our office boy came running. 바카라�Firing,바카라� he said and started closing our office바카라�s main door. 

We went out to check. I saw empty cartridges all over outside with broken glasses of black SUV scattered all over the place. There was blood. It was as if a war had broken outside. 

Like us, many other scribes from their offices at Press Enclave had also come out to check. Some started clicking photographs with their cameras. I went nearer to the SUV. I saw two men at the front. Their khaki uniforms blood drenched. Their faces blood drenched with broken shards of glass on their faces. The bullet holes in their bodies were oozing out blood. One had toys placed in front of him, probably for his children on Eid. The other one on the steering wheel was gasping for breath. I was shaken. 

I went closer to the window and saw a man down on his seat. It seemed he had ducked to save himself. However, the attackers seemed to have ensured his death. Here was Shujaat Bukhari, lying lifeless!

Somebody cried: 바카라�Ye ha chu Shujaat saeb (This is Shujaat sahib).바카라� The cry sort of woke me up from slumber. I was just there standing like others. Nobody talked. All seemed blank. Then somebody shouted: 바카라�They (attackers) are back" and there was mayhem. Everybody started running. Somebody held my hand and took me away.

We ran towards a nearby school. After few moments we went back. Then I saw somebody shouting and crying aloud. 바카라�My brother has been killed! My brother has been killed!바카라�

Then I saw senior journalists and Shujaat바카라�s friends moving down towards his lifeless body. 

바카라�Shujaatas layikh guel. Shamas gaed kaed ta (Shujaat has been shot. Shamas take your car out).바카라� I saw one of the senior editors with whom I had worked crying. He seemed to try one last time to save his friend. But, his friend Shujaat was already dead, lying there lifeless.

All news chasers of Kashmir seemed on pause at that moment. Nobody was saying anything. There was silence, except occasional cries and shutter sounds of cameras. The people had also gathered now. Some were shooting videos. After a few moments, police arrived. A cop shot some rounds in the air to disperse the crowd and took the SUV to a nearby police station. The wall of Press Enclave in Srinagar was bullet-ridden that day. The bullet marks are perhaps still present there on the wall.  

The body of Shujaat was taken to a hospital. His relatives, friends and everybody were in mourning.

Everybody in Kashmir knew Shujaat Bukhari. In fact, the world knew him. He was everywhere. As a student, I have listened to him in high school, college and then at university. He was everywhere: in debates, in inaugurations, in felicitations, in award functions. He was frequent on television prime time debates. He was on social media. He was a regular traveler. His social media reflected it all.

The friends who had worked with him described him as 바카라�affectionate and kind-hearted바카라�. 바카라�He liked grandeur. He wanted big things,바카라� one of my friends who worked at his newspaper told me.

He knew players of the chess-board in 바카라�Kashmir game바카라� like the palm of his hand, one of my friends told me once. He was well known not only in local and national circles, but internationally he had also made his mark. He was a 바카라�Kashmir expert바카라� for many. He was also a mentor to many in Kashmir.    

Next day, early morning I went to Shujaat Bukhari바카라�s native village in north Kashmir, where he was to be buried. It seemed all roads of Kashmir that day were leading to Shujaat바카라�s village. There were rows of cars all along the way. 

I saw politicians, journalists, doctors, bureaucrats, police officers and everyone from Kashmir at Shujaat바카라�s funeral that day at his native village 바카라� Kreeri.

His brother Basharaat Bukhari, a broadcaster-turned-politician, who once was Kashmir바카라�s household voice through his radio programme 바카라�Shahrbean바카라� from Radio Kashmir announced: 바카라�ye chu mataam바카라� (This is mourning) at the funeral.

Shujaat바카라�s funeral is perhaps among the only funeral in Kashmir, where politicians of opposite ideologies, political leaders with varied stances, people whose views are militant, people whose views are moderate, people who are exactly opposite to one another, however that day everyone stood together to participate in Shujaat바카라�s funeral prayer.

And Shujaat was laid to rest with skies sending down the rain as if expressing solidarity with the people down there on that day.

As his friend weeping that day told me. 바카라�He liked grandeur and look today his funeral has been big, really big!바카라�