I was born in
Gurha Slathia, a homogenous village hamlet in a district in Jammu that borders
Pakistan. With very little (almost no) diversity around me, the only ‘other’
persons I saw in my village were from nomad communities called Gujjar-Bakarwal
who camped in the jungles outside the village during summer and would walk into
the village for odd jobs. Soon after, my parents moved to a town for my
education and I spent the initial formative years in Samba (the name of the
town) in a convent run by nuns from Kerala, reading about the world and discovering
different cultures. For the little sheltered me, it was a world straight out of
Enid Blyton’s books, with always something new to discover. Since it was a
border district, there were different army camps and so one could hear foreign
languages and observe different festivals.
There were also many kids from the border villages who had to travel hours to the school and back, with periodic interruptions in their education by cross-border firing and the looming war. When I was seven years old, during the 1999 Kargil war, overnight, we saw migration of all the people from all border villages of Samba into the schools, hospitals, town-hall and industrial complex of Samba. All day we would hear firing and shelling and it only got worse during the night when we had to observe blackout against possible aerial attacks. My father decided to take me to the make-shift camp the next day so I could see for myself what war does to people who never chose it. I saw families who could only escape with a couple of bundles of clothes. I saw old matriarchs crying over their killed/abandoned cattle which were like family. I saw kids wailing, unable to understand why they had to leave the comfort of their aangan onto the roads as their playground.
My father also walked us during the early morning hours, when the cross border firing was lesser, to as much safe distance into the border area as was permitted and in the thunderous sound of bombs and cruel robotic motion of machine guns, I felt a tiny part of the terror that most of my fellow citizens lived with, in terrifying distance of, all year around. That couple of months changed me. I became more compassionate and started asking questions about the wars gone by. I asked every old person was willing to talk to a curious 7 year old and carried their stories in my tiny heart till the burden began to scare my family.
There were also many kids from the border villages who had to travel hours to the school and back, with periodic interruptions in their education by cross-border firing and the looming war. When I was seven years old, during the 1999 Kargil war, overnight, we saw migration of all the people from all border villages of Samba into the schools, hospitals, town-hall and industrial complex of Samba. All day we would hear firing and shelling and it only got worse during the night when we had to observe blackout against possible aerial attacks. My father decided to take me to the make-shift camp the next day so I could see for myself what war does to people who never chose it. I saw families who could only escape with a couple of bundles of clothes. I saw old matriarchs crying over their killed/abandoned cattle which were like family. I saw kids wailing, unable to understand why they had to leave the comfort of their aangan onto the roads as their playground.
My father also walked us during the early morning hours, when the cross border firing was lesser, to as much safe distance into the border area as was permitted and in the thunderous sound of bombs and cruel robotic motion of machine guns, I felt a tiny part of the terror that most of my fellow citizens lived with, in terrifying distance of, all year around. That couple of months changed me. I became more compassionate and started asking questions about the wars gone by. I asked every old person was willing to talk to a curious 7 year old and carried their stories in my tiny heart till the burden began to scare my family.
A few years later, my parents moved to capital
city Delhi for better education and opportunities for us and the more I
immersed myself in the fast-paced city life, the more distant I grew from my
roots and my home state. It was emotionally traumatic and led to an identity
crisis. I was an outsider for both the places now and yearned for familiarity. My
experience also made me more sensitive to the issue of migration in the state
as I am aware not everyone has the same means and privilege that I experienced.
It also led me to advocate for equal opportunities for Refugee and Internally
Displaced Communities.
On a brighter side, education in Delhi was a different and cherished
experience. No one asked my caste, my religion didn’t matter. I had friends
from almost every community you can imagine in Delhi and never ever were we
reminded of our backgrounds. It definitely forms an important part of who I am
today and I dream of similar education for the kids in rural Jammu and Kashmir.
If there is a learning experience that comes close second to my education in
Delhi, it is my work at the American Indian Foundation(AIF). It’s a truly
inclusive organization where I have seen my intersectional dreams manifest. In
spite of being the youngest at AIF, I was treated at par with any senior person
and was listened to and asked for my opinions. It still positively guides my leadership
behavior.
Beginnings with peace
work
It was a coincidence
to stumble upon formal peacebuilding work. When I returned to Jammu, after
completing my school education, I faced many personal struggles that led me to pursue
peace and work towards it and then, as I began volunteering in Jammu and
Kashmir, the circle of my peacebuilding work expanded from myself to my
community to regional dialogues and finally working with the global community. I
am from Jammu region but it is a blessing that my peacebuilding work began by
being informed by the perspective of Kashmir region and later came to be guided
by the aspirations of the youth from Ladakh region. This experience has given
me unique and well-informed insights into conflict in J&K which I use to
periodically analyze conflict in J&K and design innovative youth-led
interventions.
My extensive
immersion in different cultures and communities has been the major factor in
shaping up my work. Inclusion and Fair Representation and Participation has
been consistently guiding my activism. I still make it a point to speak for all
and create space for others and this is the same value that guides our
organization’s work. In the process of listening to others and bringing
communities together, I found myself bridging gaps, building peace and striving
to transform conflict. In between all of this, it has been a steep learning
curve.
At the time I
began working as a peacebuilder, without resources that were accessible and
within reach, it was a huge task to take on. I still struggle with limited resources
but at the beginning it was harder also because I was young and a woman, both
assumed not fit to lead by my community. With my success story and that of many
more extraordinary young women leaders from my state, it has definitely changed
now. The only way I was able to achieve my goals and continue my work despite
challenges was through community-led
initiatives and mindful partnerships.
I began approaching everyone with similar vision and mostly youth-led and
educational institutions have been really enthusiastic partners. I have also
had a huge support from the international peacebuilding peers and community
especially by sharing learnings and broadening our perspectives.
I had a
negative and limiting mentoring experience early in my work and that has guided
my path as well. I learned to pass on knowledge, opportunities as well as
decision-making faculty to other young people especially from underprivileged
backgrounds and that defines our collective work now, as I proudly see these
young people leading their own communities and peers. Young volunteers at my
organization(s) have been carrying on the work selflessly and that has been the
biggest reason for our achievements as well as the result of our work.
I will go out
I Will Go Out
has been a defining point in my career and my life. It’s a space that is so
open and accessible, truly led by the community with no rigid, centralized
decision-making. I recommend everyone to study the model of leadership that
IWGO follows/has created because it is a truly empowering and flowing space.
It’s an organization led by women from diverse backgrounds with the aim of
reclaiming equitable access to public spaces. What began as a nation-wide march
to reclaim our right to go out (hence the name) in response to the mass
molestation on New Year’s Eve on the streets of Bangalore in 2017, now is
stronger with allies in more than 35 cities in India. We have expanded our work
to reclaim safe access to digital, political and other spaces that still
exclude women, LGBTQIA+ and other minorities. Digital activism is complimented
well by periodic implementations on ground, through collaboration. It’s very
easy to see how IWGO has shaped much of my own principles of leadership and
work, and it is similarly reflected in most of our members.
Personally, after associating with IWGO, I discovered more about Feminism,
recognized internalized patriarchy, regulated my language to be more inclusive
and keep learning everyday from the women who make IWGO. I love how everyone is
welcome, there are no silos and barriers, and information is freely available.
Opportunities flow freely as networks expand and that’s such an empowering
space for women to be in, like a utopian sanctuary but it exists!
Dealing with the
pushback
Young women
in conflict are perceived as Vulnerable and Weak, in our context. In my own
community, it was an unexpected choice and one that did not go well with
others. I was working for different communities to come together and that did not
go down well with my own community male members, specially because it went
against the popular cultural norm for a woman to choose anything that the
(young) males in the community have an aversion to and the fact that a young
woman, who was unapologetically vocal about being a feminist, was leading in
spaces that were inherently male-dominated.
I have learnt
over time to balance ignoring and engaging people who troll, counter Feminism
or misunderstand it. However, a conscious decision has been to gender mainstream
the peacebuilding work. We’ve developed a gender lens for all our activities
and workshops. Gradually, our whole program has come to be led by young women.
Most importantly, we’ve achieved a gender balance in all our leadership
trainings. I do realize that not everyone who is vocal about their ideology
feels safe and protected, so I made the organization as well as my social media
handles a safe space for young feminists to discuss, explore and share.
I recently
got an opportunity to lead a group on Countering Violent Extremism, all young
men, 20-21 years old, from diverse backgrounds and was pleasantly surprised to
find them all gender-neutral. It was a strong contrast to my usual experience
and further reiterated that peace and gender equality are mutually inclusive.
Snapshots
from the journey so far
Throughout
this journey, I have been blessed with experiences that continue to shape my
personal practice of peace as well. One such defining moment in my work was
when while travelling by road to Kashmir, we stopped at a vehicle repairing
shop and had a conversation with the owner and his family, who told us of his
aspirations, his expectations from the new government in India and it wasn’t
much different from the last person in every village of India. However, in the
regional level as well as the global platforms, his voice is not represented
nor is heard. I knew exactly what it meant to be invisible and it defined for
me why I still continued doing what I was doing. It hasn’t been an easy journey
but every time I think of giving up, my thoughts go back to that man and I am
reminded of his aspirations and expectations and how the conflict has blanked
them out.
As someone
who has been born and lived in Jammu and Kashmir (or Jammu, Kashmir and Ladakh,
as I would like to call it), I have observed that conflict in J&K is
multi-layered and multi-faceted. While the international community sees it as
an issue of dispute between India and Pakistan, what the common people deal
with everyday in J&K is inter-regional conflict, cross-border firing,
infiltration, terrorism, violent extremism, divides between ethnic groups and
that is not all. Efforts to transform conflict and build peace have been guided
by non-local (and often single) narrative which isn’t going to work unless the
importance of local actors and potential of young people from different and all
communities of the state is recognized and used. Peace in the state has to be
built up from the community.
One direct
impact I can vouch for is that young people in the state found a platform which
was free from discrimination and labels and were able to form and sustain
cross-regional and cross-cultural bonds that have grown stronger with time.
They have led their communities and younger friends to look beyond boundaries
and sown seeds of reconciliation.
I have witnessed many beautiful stories of change but the one that is special
is a visit I organized of youth from different districts of J&K to my own
village, as part of countering single narratives in the state. That day, I saw
the world change as my own perceptions were knocked down. The gathering was
held in an ancient temple premises that also served the purpose of community
space. The group was distinctly diverse, something unusual for the village. However,
the villagers especially elders welcomed the group with such warmth and forged
enviable friendships, listening to each other’s stories, sharing anecdotes,
discussing each other’s insecurities and finding common elements in their
different cultures. The perceptions, pre-conceived notions of the ‘other’,
stereotypes about the communities, all came crashing down under the weight of
loud laughter and happy conversations. The two groups were not just closer but
also wide awake about the danger of believing a single story. Many participants
wrote (and still write to me) about the learning from the visit and how it
continues to guide their pursuit of dialogue and peace in their communities and
interpersonal relationships. I used to think it would be an achievement to be
able to brighten up just one life but this work has gifted me the privilege of
watching the world change for the better, day-by-day and person-by-person,
including myself.
