Uzma Falak

This work is based on the transcripts of found-audio recordings of the farewell phone calls of insurgents in Kashmir who pick up arms for liberation from Indian rule in the region. Mostly in their twenties, their decision to pick up arms and the subsequent journey, from their everyday existences under a military occupation as students, scholars, protesters, teachers, poets and poetry-lovers, singers, mourners, believers, cricket lovers, footballers, sons and brothers, culminates in a similar way:  bullet ridden bodies ferried across a sea of people, smiling faces as if they were only sleeping, women showering rose petals, sweets and almonds and applying henna on their fingers— an act of celebration and mourning; mourner-protesters climbing trees, rooftops and windows to catch a last glimpse of the insurgent-martyrs or making their way through a sea of people to touch their feet or kiss their faces.

The ‘war’ is hugely disproportionate. Currently, there are over 200 armed insurgents in the region resisting a robust military apparatus— more than half a million Indian troops are stationed in Kashmir making it one of the world’s highly militarised regions. Despite the military might, mass surveillance and other mechanisms of control, the Indian state has used unarmed people as human shields at the ‘encounter’ sites. In 2017, the Indian military launched ‘Operation All-Out’, a coordinated armed offensive, to ‘flush out terrorists’ or ‘bring them back into mainstream’— ‘a long-term plan for lasting peace’. The people of Kashmir will feel peace very soon, the region’s police chief had said. However, such militarist notions of peace and statist normality find no takers on the ground. The number of people joining insurgent ranks has seen no decline and they continue to have a mass support. Each ‘encounter’ and death in Kashmir witnesses a mammoth people’s assemblies on the streets— an enactment of rejection of India’s presence in the region. The term ‘security forces’ is a misnomer for the Indian troops in Kashmir who are seen as a violence-perpetuating machine responsible for killings, torture, enforced disappearances, rape, mass blinding, harassment, usurping of resources, exploitation and other forms of ‘zulm’ inscribed on landscapes, streets, homes, skies, and bodies.

The audio recordings of these last phone calls to fellows and family members are artefacts of resistance. In a place where state’s efforts are directed towards perception management and controlling affect, these practices of intimate speaking and listening, poignant silences and utterances beyond language, engender a haunting affectivity. These, aural letters and postcards dispatched from the ‘encounter’ sites—homes which in most cases are set ablaze— are widely disseminated and circulated over social media. According to a news report, the state counter-insurgency forces reported some of these phone calls as the ‘most circulated’ and ‘downloaded media files’ describing these as ‘a dangerous trend with far-reaching ramifications’.

The medium is the message. The intense surveillance and its consequences do not deter these farewell phone conversations. Despite the internet gag, these audio postcards are widely shared. The message is of fearlessness and a rejection of state and its control mechanisms. These audio letters undo the statist strategies of dehumanisation, victimisation and pathologisation of the resistors. The unsettling oridinariness and casualness of these conversations is extraordinary. The textures of loss, stoicism, and resistance are magnified in the quotidian details; the absurdity of ‘live long’, ‘did you eat’, ‘I am fine’, are utterances of resistance ingrained within the people of Kashmir.

As the state continues to wage war and render Kashmir ‘sound-less’ masking people’s voices with the noise of extremist nationalism echoing across newsrooms, parliament, bureaucracies, business houses, Bollywood, advertisements, academia and militia, these audio postcards, a resistance against the imposed soundlessness, are roaring testimonials of people’s defiance—cenotaphs being built in our resonant memory. --Uzma Falak

1

This Page Intentionally Left Blank

2

ENTER

WITNESS
I have a bullet in my arm
The path I have chosen is uphill
arduous—
ebbs and flows
Seeks forbearance
Forgive me if I have wronged you
Ferry my forgiveness to my friends too
I pray my death becomes my testimony

[BULLETS RAIN]
Clothe me in your prayers
[GUNSHOTS]

WITNESS TO THE WITNESS
Logsaya Balaai
(May I be sacrificed for you)
Pray, my longing culminates too—
to be written down as a witness
It is a fight against falsehood
Fight well, my friend

CALL ENDS
***

WITNESS
My time has come
I shall leave this world today
Dispatch my Salaam to all
Pray that we exit as witnesses
[Nonchalantly]
We shall all unite again
This life is ephemeral anyway
It doesn’t last long
[Laughs]
[Women wail]
Don’t mourn
Sabr, Sabr, Sabr!
(Endurance, Endurance, Endurance!)

WITNESS TO THE WITNESS
[VOICE OF A CHILD]
 Hello, Hello!

WITNESS
[Breaks down]
Peace be upon you!
[Hello, Hello!]
[Sobs, on both sides]
[Utterances beyond language]
[Howling]

CALL ENDS

***

WITNESS
We shall meet in heaven.
God willing, God willing, God willing!
We have been cordoned off, in a house.
Please help the dwellers of this home
rebuild again

WITNESS TO THE WITNESS
God willing!

CALL ENDS
***
WITNESS                  
[VOICE I]
[Cries]
Forgive me if have wronged you, father!
I couldn’t keep your promise, forgive me!
Remain pleased with me
God shall be pleased with me too

WITNESS TO THE WITNESS
Ba Lagai Tse Vandith
Ba Lagai Tse Vandith
Ba Lagai Tse Vandith

(May I be sacrificed for you)

WITNESS
[VOICE II]
Peace be upon you
How are you?
Excuse me,
I am stammering
I have a bullet in my head
Forgive me if I have wronged you
Do you have my father’s number?

CALL ENDS
***

WITNESS
Peace be upon you!
We shall meet again
Excuse me,
my voice is quivering
I have been running
Pray for me
If I survive, the victory is ours
If I die, the victory is ours
I will fight for a few hours
My time has come
Pray for me

The colours of the world are but naught-
keheen, nothing.

CALL ENDS
***
WITNESS
[VOICE I]
Do not worry at all

They are flashing the lights
We all have to die, anyway
Death is inevitable
Death as a witness is better
May we die striving on the right path

If they bring me home
tell them, not to grieve
Okay, Khodayas Havaale
(I leave you in God’s care)


WITNESS
[VOICE II]
Chalo, Saath Ous Yutui
(Okay, we are destined to part now)
Chalo!
(Okay!)
Baqi Na Keheen, Wallah
(Nothing else, really!)
[Subtle Laughter]

Death as a witness is ideal

 

WITNESS TO THE WITNESS
[A MOTHER’S VOICE]
It is our honour, my dear!
Are you okay, lagyo?

WITNESS
Awai, yes!

WITNESS TO THE WITNESS
Do you think you can escape?

WITNESS
No, it’s time I think

WITNESS TO THE WITNESS
Wai!
May I be sacrificed for you my dear!
Be steadfast and patient.
May God protect you
Ba Lagai Naavas
(May I be sacrificed in your name)

 

EXIT
 

3

[The Witness— a smiling face and eyes which refuse to shut— is lowered into a grave, carrying his testimony, last touches and kisses of the mourners to rivers of heaven. Where else could one bury such incendiary acts of tenderness? Those who witness this act of witnessing desire to lose everything to this love. They gather around the Witness— a boat sailing across a sea of people—only to touch their bare feet and plant kisses on their foreheads]

Last words spoken, speaking, speak       
in spite of, regardless, despite,
Everything.
Last words spoken nonetheless.

Last words waging a war against time—
aeons and empires smashed to smithereens

Last words uttered, brief, albeit in no haste
Not as a farewell address
but as ordinary ordinary words
of the everyday
 
Quotidian details: How are you?
Excuse me.
Last words spoken casually—
I am fine, by the grace of God.
Bas, Chalo

Last words uttered with an ease that shall
continue to haunt the revolutions and rotations of
the earth, moon, sun and all the stars and their remnants,
spinning galaxies, known and unknown

Last words spoken such that death tastes like a journey—
from one room to the next

Last words of a
body that is no more in exile,
body that is no more an exile

Last words that make a poem difficult
Last words that make love unbearable

Last words rebirthing
departures as arrivals, ends as beginnings
homes as tombs, streets as rivers
walls as windows, corridors as bridges
fire as flowers, longing as little boats twinkling
far far away from the shores,
cinders as keepsake, singed poems as testimonies,
bullets in the chests and skulls as letters
wombs as graves
bodies as funeral wreaths curled around the dead.

Last words echoing across the gutted homes
Last words inscribed against the falling walls

Last words that make songs dissolve their cadence,
metamorphosing into a cry,
resounding the universe

Last words that beckon all words to assemble in grief
ripping their apparels of meaning apart,
donning instead shrouds of incomprehensibility,
setting language free —
Wai

Last words that we know will not be the last.

4

If time had a throat it would split it open to show how parched it was
If time had lips they would be quivering,
stammering wounded histories,
Roll call of the witnesses:
The Enshrouded One, Clear Evidence, Companion, Compassion,
Successor, Gifted, Glorious, Guidance, Eternal, Just

If time had feet they would forget how to march ahead
callously across the delusional seasons
They would instead keep walking backwards
back
back
reversing its own forgetful stampede

If time had a heart of the occupied
it would forget to tick away,
just like that

5

Operation Catch and Kill
Operation Hearts and Minds
Operation Sadhbhavna (Goodwill)
Operation Harmony
Jawan aur Awam, Aman Hai Muqaam
(For the Solider and the Civilian, Peace is the Goal)
Armed Forces Special Powers Act
Operation Shoot to Kill
Operation Calm Down
Operation All Out
Operation Clean Up
Cordon and Search Operation
Operation Sangam (Confluence)
Operation Maitree (Friendship)
Operation Ujala (Bright)
Siraj un Nisa (The Enlightenment of Women)

Imaginarium -
Imagine, Express, Evolve,

Rashtriya Rifles 
Battalion of Himalayan Brigade
Under the aegis of Dagger Division,
presents Army’s (Art and Theatre) Camp—
continued efforts towards building bridges with Awam,
nurturing cultural heritage and identifying young talent
exposing youth to
modern and contemporary art

Winning Hearts and Minds
Iron Fist in a Velvet Glove

 

6

Poetry is Violent

This is not a non-violent poem
This is not a peace-building poem
This is not a peaceful poem
This is not a road-ahead poem
This is not a healing-touch poem
This is not a civilian poem
This is not a normal poem
This is not a paradise poem
This is not a conflict poem

This is a breathing in and
breathing out poem

This is a violent poem
This is a heavily armed poem
This is an agitational poem
This is an overground poem
This is an underground poem
This is an occupied poem
 This is a resisting poem
This is a smothering poem
This is a mob poem
This is a druggie poem
This is a terrorist poem
This is an uneducated poem
This is an extremist poem
This is a militant poem

This is not a poem

 

7

ENTER

WITNESS
We are inside a house, in the upper storey
There are only three rooms
They have taken positions in the neighbouring houses
They are firing

WITNESS TO THE WITNESS
[VOICE I]
Do you have water?
Did you eat?

 

WITNESS
We ran out of drinking water
We didn’t eat but had tea earlier

WITNESS TO THE WITNESS
Try to get water from the other room
Is everything else fine?

WITNESS
Yes, thanks be to God
Can you hear the gunfire from there?

                        WITNESS TO THE WITNESS
                         Yes, we do, clearly.
[GUN SHOTS]

                        Do you want to say anything else?
                        Can I do anything for you?

WITNESS
No, my dear.
May I be sacrificed for you!
                     

WITNESS TO THE WITNESS
[VOICE II: MOTHER]
Hello, Peace be upon you
How are you?
Who spied on you, my dear?
Is it a big house?    

WITNESS
I am fine. Please pray for me!
No, it is a small one

                        WITNESS TO THE WITNESS     

Hata, Wai.
Gaash te aaw
(dawn too has arrived)
Kadman Karev Madat
(may He be your succour in each stride)
Hemat Denav, Taar Denav
(may He give you strength)
(may He ferry your across)
Gaash aaw

 

                       WITNESS TO THE WITNESS 
                        [VOICE III: SISTER]

Are you okay?
I have never sought anything from you
Today, I shall ask you for one favour

WITNESS
What is it, my dear?
May I be sacrificed for you!

WITNESS TO THE WITNESS   
You couldn’t meet me here
I couldn’t even see you
Promise, you will meet me in the hereafter
That’s my last wish

[GUN SHOTS]
[Call waiting tone x3]
[Voice: Call us again]
CALL ENDS

***

WITNESS
There were seven of us
Two have left
We have been fighting since 2.30 am
Do forgive me
I think we won’t be able to make it today
Please settle the debts if any

WITNESS TO THE WITNESS
[VOICE I]
Please speak to your mother
Don’t tell her you have been cordoned

[GUNSHOTS]

WITNESS TO THE WITNESS
(VOICE II: SISTER)
Are you okay my dear?
Where are you?
Do visit home once and stay over

WITNESS
[fumbles]
Yes, if it is destined, I will


WITNESS TO THE WITNESS
Why didn’t you tell us before you left?
You didn’t even call us

WITNESS
Where is mother?

WITNESS
[Breaks down]
Peace be upon you!

WITNESS TO THE WITNESS
[VOICE III: MOTHER]
[Cries]
Hello!

WITNESS
[Crying]
Theek Chakhai?
(Are you fine?)

 

WITNESS TO THE WITNESS
[MOTHER]
Dearest, without you, where shall I go?

 

WITNESS
Khodai Karie Sahal
(God shall ease your burdens)
This was destined for me
I will visit  and stay over someday soon
Forgive me

WITNESS TO THE WITNESS
[MOTHER]
May you flourish
May God bestow you strength and courage
May your purpose be accomplished
May the cause you strived for,
come to fruition

 

WITNESS
Ameen
Supplicate
Pray for me

WITNESS TO THE WITNESS
[MOTHER]
Where are you?

WITNESS
There are five of us, at a place

WITNESS TO THE WITNESS
[MOTHER]
[Cries out]
Oh God, they have been cordoned!
[Wailing]

WITNESS TO THE WITNESS
[SISTER]

Hello, Hello
Please speak the truth. Have you been cordoned?

WITNESS
No, really!
I couldn’t have phoned you

WITNESS TO THE WITNESS
[SISTER]
Please tell me the truth,
You never called since you left

WITNESS
[Fumbles]
This is destined
Pray for my steadfastness

Oh my dear brother!
[Cries]

 

WITNESS TO THE WITNESS
[VOICE IV: FATHER]
May God keep you in his care.
Robb Kaernai Ehsaan
(May God shower his mercy)

WITNESS
Please tell them not to worry
Where is mother?

WITNSS TO THE WITNESS
[FATHER]
They are crying.
Don’t worry.
Beh Robbas Havaale
(I leave you in God’s care)

 

CALL ENDS
***

                         WITNESS TO THE WITNESS
                         [POET]
                         [The poet speaks like a historian, an eyewitness, a weary shaman]
                         I shall show you the way

WITNESS
The time has come
The hour of testifying is near
We shall offer our prayers, two rakats, here
— your home

We cannot rewrite what is written
This house shall bear witness to our witnessing
There is a cordon outside
Please leave with your children

Wait:
Your house will be destroyed
Hope you will forgive us
We are leaving this world
We cannot compensate for your loss here
At the Hour, if our witnessing is accepted
We shall reap its fruit together

Please accept the prayers we offered at your home,
as a small recompense.
                                   

 

                                   WITNESS TO THE WITNESS
                                    [POET]

[Fifteen minutes after I left intense firing started and continued till midnight. This is the story of that day]

           What have you lost?

I lost my home
I lost my poems
but that is no loss

The only loss is the loss of lives sacrificed
witnesses
my poems of freedom

[Rummaging through his burnt down home and poems]

aaj tak yeh ghar mere liye ek makaan tha
ab ye makaan mere liye ek astaan hai
ek astaan sa hai

(until today my home like lifeless walls,
now resurrected as a shrine)

 

EXIT

8

Marginalia

April rain pours down on a bench for
wayfarers,
lovers and homeless
(I wonder what does love have in common with homelessness)

Last words,
the only travellers from home,
caress the inconsolable skies


Graffiti on the bench—
Moses
peers at me

 

                          …That’s why I don’t like obituaries
                             (This is my obituary)
                           Tell me a story
                           Come back already
                           We won’t meet again, maybe
                           Vu kati aasai ba yaad tii
                           (You won’t even remember me now)
                           Zindagi paeth chune bharose
                           (Life is uncertain)
                           “And I want you to know that I am both happy
                             and sad and I’m still trying to
                            figure out how that could be .”


                           Tell me a story.
                           Dispatch a poem. Interpret my dream. Persist.


 

Image courtesy ©Uzma Falak

The waveforms and spectrograms in the featured images represent the visualisations of two farewell phone-call recordings of insurgents in Kashmir. These have been created using Sonic Visualizer—a software developed at the Centre for Digital Music, Queen Mary, University of London. The top feature image is the sonic visualisation of the farewell phone-call recording of Aitmad Hussain Dar and inline image is the sonic visualisation of Sameer Ahmad Lone’s last call to his family. Both Aitmad and Sameer were killed in a gunfight at Kachdur in Shupian in April this year. The spectrograms and waveforms have been annotated with extracts from the (translated) transcripts of these last phone calls.

Uzma Falak is a DAAD Doctoral Fellow at the University of Heidelberg where she is pursuing her PhD in Anthropology.  She was an invited artist-scholar at the Warwick’s Tate Exchange, 2018 held at the Tate Modern, London. Her ethnographic poem, 'Point of Departure,' won an Honourable Mention in the Society for Humanistic Anthropology’s 2017 (Victor Turner) Ethnographic Poetry Award. Her poetry and essays have appeared in Al Jazeera English, The Caravan, Himal Southasian, Cultural Anthropology, Anthropology and Humanism, Gossamer: An Anthology of Contemporary World Poetry, Jadaliyya, Of Occupation and Resistance, (Westland/Tranquebar, 2013), The Electronic Intifada, The Palestinian Chronicle and more.  Her documentary film ‘Till then the Roads Carry Her’ has been screened at the 2nd Annual Memory Studies Association Conference (University of Copenhagen), The 24th European Conference on South Asian Studies (University of Warsaw), South Asia Institute (University of Heidelberg), Karlstorkino cinema (Heidelberg), Tate Modern (London), Open Frame Film Festival and Forum 2015, 12th IAWRT Asian Women's Film Festival 2015 and others.

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