COVID 19 & We

Take care my friends, till we meet again

Keep me in your prayers, till we meet again

I wish you good health, till we meet again

I am sure this will end, till we meet again.

As I write this article, an astounding feeling has started to envelope my mind and that is whether we will be able to make through these tough and challenging times unscathed. COVID 19 or Coronavirus has brought down the entire world on its knees. Developed countries like China & Italy have been ravaged by this Pandemic with no early signs of recovery. COVID 19 positive cases globally stand at approximately 3,41,560 with close to 15,000 confirmed deaths reported across the globe. India has so far recorded 7 deaths with close to 415 positive cases of COVID 19. These numbers are rising with each passing moment. Italy which is fighting this monster since last 2 months is finally looking upwards for some divine intervention. Far developed countries like US, UK, Canada, France and Germany are looking puzzled & perplexed to contain this outbreak of coronavirus. Western Pacific region, European region, South East Asian region, East Mediterranean region, Region of the Americas and African region which covers almost 99% of the countries on the globe are affected due to this deadly virus which originated from Wuhan in China & is hence sometimes referred to as Wuhan Virus also. Terms like lockdown, Quarantine, community outbreak, imported cases, social distancing etc have become part of the daily lingo globally.  At this moment Its almost unfathomable for me to even imagine the impact that this virus is going to bring to India given its state of medical infrastructure to combat such pandemics. Imagine the magnanimity of destruction we are starring at, when we have just 0.9 beds per 1000 people, which by any imagination is abysmally low. Therefore, we must understand how important it becomes for us to self-quarantine or self-isolate in these trying times.

What does COVID 19 bring to India on the economic front?

·         The work culture of India is going to change drastically. The concept of work from home, which otherwise is an alien term for 90 % of Indian organisations, barring few MNC’s, will be an acceptable norm going forward. Will this mean cut in wages? Only time will tell.

·         As lockdown continues, recession is starring us in our faces. Hence part time work force or the gig economy will gain ground in India as there will be a dip in full time jobs. Therefore, this is the best time to hone your skills and be geared up for the inevitable.

·         Recession means no or very less investments. This will bring with it mortgage and loan defaults which in turn will severely impact the banking sector which is already in doldrums.

·         With this lockdown, India’s corporate world will learn the importance of digitization. Corporates will gradually move to digital platforms and thus IT and services will become the main drivers of India’s economy and key indicators of its GDP.

What is in for the environment?

The way we have ravaged our planet, I strongly believe that emergence of COVID 19 is the nature’s way to strike balance again. To quote an example, as majority of the motor vehicles are off the roads and industrial activity is also at its lowest levels, the NO2 (Nitrogen Dioxide) emission has dropped by 15-20%. So has the carbon emission levels globally. So is this the way of nature to tell us to behave. I Strongly believe so. This pandemic without any doubt has made us understand that the only way out is the sustainable development, and that means striking a fine balance between financial, socio-political and environmental factors. Let’s all wake up from our deep slumber and work together for a better and a sustainable future.  Give it a thought, till we meet again.

Sachin Raina

Digger: KP Balidan Divas

Digger: KP Balidan Divas: KP Balidan Divas-Significance “It is the cause, not the death that makes the martyr.” – Napoleon Bonaparte 14 th Septembe...

Take Aways from movie, chichorey

The most awaited movie, Chichorey has released and is creating ripples across mainstream cinema in India. I thoroughly enjoyed the movie. Few take away's from the movie.

•  Teams/Individuals must know how to handle setbacks and failures.Remember Disraeli who said, “All my successes are built on My failures”.
• Celebrate success. Carefully analyse your failures. That’s more important. Remember, Success has many fathers, failure has none. So own it. 
• You must know the correct mix off your team. Not everyone will be exceptional. What is important is that everyone must be aligned to a common goal and purpose. You win together and you loose together. When you hand good people possibility, they do great things. 
• A TL/Captain/Manager must understand the strengths and weaknesses of his team and act accordingly. Mentor must bring out the best out of his team and teammates. 
•  Don’t get weighed down under expectations. Making genuine effort is important. Half hearted effort will give you half results only. Do it with passion or not at all.
•  Take control of the distractions in your life. Unless you do that, you can’t succeed. Have a clear focus. “Starve your distractions, feed your focus”.
• Know your competition at the back of your hand. Make every effort to expose their weaknesses. At the same time admire and appreciate your competition. 
•  Remember your competition won’t respect you until you take fight to their backyard. Collin Powell once said, “The healthiest competition occurs when average people win by putting above average efforts”. 
• Be open to feedback from others. Don’t hesitate to take help. Someone sitting outside the ring might help you win. Identify that one man outside your team who can take you past the finishing line. 10. When in team, keep your egos on the shelf. Otherwise you will always feel ways and means to blame others and the circumstances. 
•  It’s OK to FAIL. What is more important is to keep trying hard. Failure is not fatal; success is not final. It is the courage to continue that counts. 
•  Most important - Leadership is not any popularity contest. It’s a huge responsibility thrown at you. Your actions will determine the outcome of your team. Hence walk the talk and stand tall in times of adversity. Own failures and share the joy of success.

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KP Balidan Divas

KP Balidan Divas-Significance

“It is the cause, not the death that makes the martyr.” – Napoleon Bonaparte

14^th September will always remain etched in memory of every KP purely because of the fact that on that day in 1989 one of our tallest leader, Sh Tika Lal Taploo fell to the bullets of Islamic zealots in the heart of Srinagar. He was a revered KP leader who always stood up for the interest of the community. Islamic terrorists knew that his killing will silence the most dynamic and formidable KP leader thus triggering a sense of meekness and nervousness among the tiny KP community living in Kashmir. Through this killing these terrorists intended to elicit one of the worst exoduses and genocides in the history of mankind. The killings did not stop here. One after the other, KP leaders and activists were targeted by these cussed fundamentalists throughout the length and breadth of Kashmir. Soon after this, on Novemebr 4, 1989, Sh Neelkanth Ganjoo, a High court judge, was killed in the broad day light in the heart of Srinagar. He was assassinated to avenge the death sentence he had pronounced on the hijacker Maqbool Bhat. Between September 1989 to January 1990 around 400 KPs (Including women) were killed. Notable among them were Sh Lassa Kaul, Sh B K Ganjoo, Sh Sarwanand Premi, Satish Tikoo and others. As I write this, I feel as a community we have been hoodwinked and deceived by not only Kashmiri Muslims but by successive Governments who have been at the helm of affairs since 1990. Passing on the buck is the best phrasing that I can attribute to this dastardly and genocidal saga. Sometimes I feel that we have paid an elephantine price for upholding the Idea of India in Kashmir whereas our Government at the centre has conveniently chosen to look in the other direction.

There have been umpteen attempts made by these Islamic terrorists to colour our exodus as a conspiracy of Indian government to malign their so called freedom struggle. They are quite vociferous in propagating that it was Mr Jagmohan, erstwhile governor of J&K, who facilitated our exit from Kashmir in January 1990. However killing of Girja Tikoo, Prana Ganjoo and Sarla Bhat (In 1990) in cold blood by these Islamic fundamentalists exposes them beyond any reasonable doubt and brings out the insidious psyche and ethos of majority community of Kashmir at that time. Liberals who talk about human right violations in Kashmir and elsewhere in India must hang their heads in shame on these three dastardly rapes and murders. Girja Tikoo, a poor lab technician was kidnapped on June 26, 1990 and then brutalized and violated for next three days only to be found cut into two halves by the band saw. Even to imagine the kind of agony she must have gone through sends shivers down my spine. Similarly on 04.06.1990, Mrs Prana Ganjoo alongwith her husband, Prof K L Ganjoo was abducted and Gang raped for several days and then her mortal remains were thrown into the river Jhelum. Her husband too was killed and her poor children were orphaned forever. Sarla Bhat who was a staff nurse at SKIMS, Soura, was kidnapped by JKLF terrorists on April 14, 1990. Her dead body was later found with bullet wounds on April 19 from downtown area of Srinagar. Her post mortem report revealed the horrific trauma she had undergone. Another KP girl raped before she was killed. Her body was tagged as a police informant by these terrorist with the sole intention of creating hysteria amongst the KP community and denying her a dignified funeral as her father was refused firewood and other necessary items required for her last rites by the majority community. Kofi Anan has aptly said that, “Genocide begins with the killing of one man-not for what he has done, but because of who he is”. Creation of false narrative by majority community of Kashmir is a juvenile attempt to paint their misdemeanor and transgression in different shade and show to the world that their cause is justified. However they forget that you can run with a lie but you can’t hide from the truth. It will catch you.

Almost thirty years have gone by since we left Kashmir. Nobody thought that our exile will be so long. When I look into the past and think about the hardships that we faced in 1990’s I sometimes wonder, are we sons of the lesser God that nobody came to our rescue. Our exodus from Kashmir is reminiscent of the fact that before this, we have been forced out of Kashmir six times by Pathans and Muslim fundamentalists and each time we have gone back to claim our motherland. Our struggle in Kashmir in the modern history began in 1931 with Kanikoot massacre where nine family members of Zana Bhat were axed to death by majority community of nearby wattakul village. Hence our exodus in 1990 should not be seen in isolation. For us Balidan divas is not just another day. It is that day which reminds us of the excesses that have been committed on us by the Islamist zealots from times immemorial. It is that day which brings to fore the question of our existence. Without any doubt we are a dwindling lot now. It is that day which reminds us of our looted and battered temples lacerated by the hatred of these fundamentalists. Almost all our places of worship have been turned into ruins. But l must tell our tormentors that although we come from ruins, we are not ruined. We will come back to claim our land and that will be the biggest tribute to our martyrs. I would like to conclude with the following lines from Jagdamba Prasad Hiteshi’s famous poem,

" Shahedoon ke chitaon per judeghey har baras meley, Watan per marney walon ka yehi baki       nishaan hoga”

                 

 “ Kabhi Woh din bhi aayega jab apna raj dekhengey, Jab apni hi Zami aur apna aasma hoga”

                                                                                               

By – Sachin Raina

Digger: Kashmir in 1990.

Digger: Kashmir in 1990.: It was January 1990 and we used to live in the government accommodation provided to my mother in Jammu by state secretariat. We (Me, my sis...

Kashmir in 1990.

It was January 1990 and we used to live in the government accommodation provided to my mother in Jammu by state secretariat. We (Me, my sister & my mother) were blessed enough not to have witnessed the inhospitable, combative and acrimonious scenes that erupted on the streets of Srinagar and entire Kashmir on 19th January 1990 when belligerent & fundamentalist crowd from the back of their throats were shouting, "Ase gatchey panun Pakistan, Batav rosah teh batniav saan". My dad who was not as fortunate as us witnessed the entire cavalcade of these ultraist gangs with utter disbelief, dismay and discomfort. Kalashinkov and AK 47 brandishing men could be seen meandering freely on the streets of Srinagar. It was total bankruptcy of law and order situation in Kashmir. Kashmir on that doomful day lost its Kashmiriyat & KP's forever. After 27 years of our forced exile, We the aboriginals of Kashmir are still in search of our ever elusive homeland. Without any doubt our exodus was one of the most buttoned up ethnic cleansing ever witnessed on earth. International community, our national fraternity, the Government in charge at the centre at that time & our own state government watched the entire episode with utmost crassness and contempt. They were and they still continue to be the muffled bystanders to the predicament of one of the most peace loving community on mother earth. It is the biggest travesty of justice that we are referred to as migrants in our own country. Sometimes I feel that we ended up paying a very high price for upholding the idea of INDIA in Kashmir whereas our own INDIA chose to look in other direction.

For around 6 months after Jan 1990, we were without school, proper clothing, proper footwear and above all any capital to survive. As the summers approached in Jammu, things got abominable. From cool breeze of Kashmir to harsh summers of Jammu, from regular students to second shift students, from a palatial house to a grimy and run down two room set, the journey wasn't easy and with each passing day our miseries and anguish began to rise. The elders of our community who were in the autumn of their life paid a striking price for this mentally oppressive situation. The derivative of these circumstances were widespread deaths of these elders. I still remember the summer of June 1992 when my grandfather couldn't bear the rising temperatures and he evanesced gradually to cross the great divide and meet his maker forever.

Going back to 1990, I comprehensibly remember how hoards of trucks with KP's and their paraphernalia would enter Jammu. I still remember those saddened, sombre and melanoid faces with nowhere to go. For a very brief period Geeta Bhawan in Jammu became the adopted chalet of lot of KP's coming from Srinagar. After a while migrant KP settlements like Muthi Camp & Nagrota camp came into existence. During one such visit to Geeta Bhawan I almost lost my sanctity of being a 11 year old kid when I stood in the line to collect bedraggled clothes being distributed by some volunteers. From being a HARA Jeans fan to a kid who would stockpile remnants of others, I had to see it all. I wish no kid in this world has to go through this graceless and gawky situation. I pray for this world to be a better place. To conclude, I would here like to give a small message to those people who belittle our tragedy.Being a migrant or a refugee is opposite to insult;it is rather a badge of strength, courage and victory. In the end I salute KP community to have weathered the adversity of migration gallantly and defeating the malevolent and mischievous designs of the Pak sponsored terrorists who threw us out in the most incognizant and gratuitous manner. 

Visiting my school after 16 years in 2005

During one of my visits to Srinagar in 2005, I decided to visit my erstwhile school. Our school, which was in the midst of Srinagar city continued to run unabated even during the peak of the militancy and still continues to run with a new name. It was surprising because most of the schools run by KP's were either shutdown or razed to ground by Muslim fundamentalists. There was a feeling among a certain section of the Muslim society that these schools endorsed Jan Sangh and Hindu ideology.

They considered singing “ Vandey Matram” and “ Jana Gana Mana” as unislamic. Many schools like Vishwa Bharti, M DASS, National Public School and Kamla memorial school were either burnt or shutdown. As I reached the school gates, I got nervous. I had spent my childhood here playing cricket in the vast and enormous ground in the school premises. The school was run in the premises of the famous Bhairav temple in Narsinghgarh. As I was walking towards the school building, there was an adrenaline rush in my body. All those scenes of my childhood suddenly started to unfold in front of my eyes. As I looked up into the sky, I suddenly realised that I was looking for Eagles. I loved the sight of flying eagles over Bhairav Mandir. I could remember my father waving at these eagles with “SOOSH NAUR” (Lungs of sheep or goat) in his hands and enticing them to snatch the same from his hands. I could remember how these eagles one after another would come down in their majestic flights to snatch the same from him.  Feeding eagles with soosh naur used to be an age old custom within Kashmiri Pundits as it was considered auspicious and a way to ward off all evils with the blessing of Bhairava. This ritual like other Kashmiri rituals lost its importance and relevance during the years of our exile from Kashmir. 

As I was approaching the school, I could hear the noise of children. It was a very special moment for me. But all the faces were unfamiliar. My eyes were looking for Pinky Madam, Kiran Madam, Sarla Madam, Neelofer madam and last but not the least Nusrat Madam. Nusrat madam was so beautiful that all of us used to look at her with great perplexity. Every boy in my class had a crush on her. As I approached the principal’s room, a boy came up to me and asked, “Aapko Kis sey Milna Hain”. I said, “ Principal Sahab”. He gestured and asked me to knock on the Principals door. As I knocked I said, “May I come in Sir”. A voice replied back, “YES”. I knew it was Mr.Sathu (Name Changed). I was entering my principal’s office after around 16 long and painful years. I was shivering and my heart was palpitating. It took me a little while to realise that I was taking too much of time to walk inside. He again said, “Please come in”. Next moment I was inside his cabin. He asked me, “Who are you”. I said, I am Sachin Raina. Next moment he was up from his chair and in front of me. I did not know what to do. Such was his aura that I was compelled to do what I used to do everyday in our early days in school. I stood in attention like a soldier does at the sight of his commander. I froze at one place. He then said,” Stand at ease” in his usual style and baritone voice. He hugged me and I could see through his eyes what he was feeling. I used to look up to him as a kid. As we were talking to each other, I could see the kind of pain he had gone through. Although the school was running but its name had to be changed to suit the whims and fancies of Kashmiri fundamentalists. Suddenly he asked me, “So what do you do to earn a living“. I said, “Sir I could not become a pilot”. He obviously had forgotten about that during all these years. As we were talking, I asked him the reason for not leaving Kashmir all these years and why he went through all these hardships and unfriendly moments. He chose not to answer. He had made this school into a big institution with his sheer grit and determination. Although one of his partners chose to leave Srinagar for good, he continued to nurture the academy and impart education to the wards of the people who were responsible for the ouster of his own brothers and sisters. However there were people from the Muslim community in the vicinity of the school who stood by him during tough times and did not allow him to leave valley and desert his school. Later during floods in 2014, when one of the old buildings of the school collapsed, locals and ex students from the Muslim community came forward to help him both monetarily and emotionally. Without any doubt he enjoys lot of popularity among locals. Lot of young girls and guys doing well in their lives owe their success to Mr. Sathu and his school. I must here mention his wife, Gauri(Name changed) who stood by him like a rock and backed his decision of not leaving Srinagar. She used to teach us Hindi. God knows whether she still teaches the so called HINDU subject or not. Probably NO.

After spending good odd 2 hours with him, I asked for his permission to leave and left for my hotel. I was happy to see my school and Mr. Sathu again. As I was puffing my cigarette, I became nostalgic. Next day while going to the airport, I felt very bad to leave Srinagar once again. This feeling of again being robbed of my home and hearth by some gun wielding religious freaks working and delivering deaths and devastation at the behest of their masters across the border crossed my mind. Even after 27 years of our exile, we have nowhere to go. As time is running out, I feel this feeling will be laid to rest only with my death. Till then I will live with my worst fear and nightmare.