Home Blog Page 10

Pakistan’s Ceaseless Provocations: Keeping the LoC Alive

(Kashmir Rechords Report)

The recent escalation, particularly along the Line of Control (LoC) following Operation Sindoor—launched in retaliation to the brutal killing of 26 innocent  Tourists  by Pakistan-trained terrorists in Pahalgam, Kashmir, has once again brought into sharp focus a reality long known to the residents of border areas: The LoC is never truly quiet.

While national attention tends to spike during major incidents, for the civilians and security personnel along the frontier, such violence is, somehow, a part of daily life. Ceasefire or not, Pakistan has consistently kept the LoC “alive” through calibrated military provocations, infiltration attempts and cross-border shelling.

A Pattern of Violations Since the 1990s

The 1990s marked a turning point in the nature of Indo-Pak tensions along the LoC.  As Pakistan escalated its proxy war in Jammu and Kashmir, it adopted a dual strategy—supporting cross-border terrorism while using its regular forces to violate ceasefires and provoke Indian responses.

January 1991—Pak in a habit of keeping LoC Alive!

An archival news report dated January 23, 1991, preserved by Kashmir Rechords, provides evidence of this long-standing pattern. It refers to heavy Pakistani shelling in sensitive areas like Jhanghar, even as early as 1987–1988. Hundreds of bullets, shells and mortars were fired, prompting appropriate retaliation from Indian forces. Jhanghar, surrounded on three sides by Pakistani territory—with Kotli and Mirpur on the other side of the LoC in Pakistan Occupied Kashmir (PoK)—has remained a strategically critical and vulnerable target.

This report underscores that as early as the Zia-ul-Haq era, Pakistan was using cross-border firing as a cover for infiltrating militants. The 1987–1997 period saw routine use of this tactic, which would later become a hallmark of Pakistan’s approach to Jammu and Kashmir.

Why Pakistan Keeps the LoC Alive?

Pakistan’s strategy to keep the LoC active and volatile is not accidental. It is rooted in military utility, political necessity and psychological warfare. Several overlapping motives drive this calculated policy:

1. Cover for Infiltration

Frequent firing creates diversions for Indian security forces, allowing trained terrorists to slip across the LoC. It also masks movement along rugged terrain under the guise of military exchanges.

2. Demoralizing Civilians

Mortar and artillery shelling on villages is designed to spread panic, force displacement and create long-term instability. Yet, the people of these regions have continued to show unparalleled resilience in the face of such adversity.

3. Narrative Management and International Messaging

By keeping the region in a state of tension, Pakistan attempts to portray Kashmir as a disputed and unstable zone, hoping to attract international attention and sympathy.

4. Military Supremacy in Domestic Politics

For the Pakistani establishment—especially the army—a “live” LoC helps sustain its dominant political role. Tensions with India serve as a unifying distraction from domestic instability and economic failures.

5. Sabotaging Peace Initiatives

Historically, whenever backchannel diplomacy or bilateral talks gain traction, a sudden spike in ceasefire violations often follows. This indicates the entrenched opposition to peace within Pakistan’s security apparatus.

Circa 1991

Ceasefire in Name, Conflict in Practice

Despite multiple ceasefire agreements, the structural nature of Pakistan’s provocations over the past has remained consistent. Whether it is cross-border shelling, sniper attacks, or coordinated infiltration attempts, Pakistan continues to treat the LoC as an extension of its anti-India strategy.

The recent post-Operation Sindoor violation is not an aberration. It is a continuation of a long, calculated military doctrine that attempts to destabilize Jammu and Kashmir through persistent provocations. Yet, despite the cost and chaos, the people along the LoC stand firm—their courage matching the commitment of the Indian Army to safeguard national security.

Pakistan’s actions, rooted in insecurity and strategic desperation, must be seen for what they are: a refusal to accept peace as an option, and a willingness to use terror and tension as tools of statecraft. The response must be equally firm, clear-eyed and consistent.

Renu Bhatia’s Kashmiri Roots Echo in Campus Controversy

(Kashmir Rechords Report)

From fleeing militancy in Srinagar to triggering a national debate on free speech, the Haryana Women’s Commission chief draws strength—and scrutiny—from her past.— That is Kashmir.

Renu Bhatia, the Chairperson of the Haryana State Commission for Women, is at the centre of a storm following the arrest of Ashoka University Professor Ali Khan Mahmudabad—an action she initiated over his social media remarks related to the recent military operation Operation Sindoor. But behind this flashpoint is considered a deeper, more personal history: one that begins in Kashmir, where Bhatia was born and raised until conflict tore her world apart.

“My house was near Dal Gate in Srinagar,” she recalls. “We were among those families who lost everything in 1947, again in 1948, and finally had to flee in the 1990s.”

Born into a Punjabi-Kashmiri Hindu family, Renu Bhatia was a student at Presentation Convent in Srinagar before her family migrated to Dehradun in 1990 amid the exodus of Kashmiri Pandits. The memories of fear, flight and survival have never left her—and some say they now shape her sense of duty and justice.

Earlier this month, Renu  Bhatia filed a formal complaint against Prof. Mahmudabad, accusing him of “derogatory remarks against women officers” in the Indian Army and of “promoting communal disharmony”. The charges, under which he was arrested on May 19,2025, include sections related to public mischief and endangering national unity. The post in question, related to Operation Sindoor—a cross-border military action—has sparked a polarising national debate about free speech, academic freedom and political overreach.

But Renu Bhatia defends her actions staunchly. “I was doing my job. No one will be allowed to insult women, especially those serving the nation,” she said. When asked by mediapersons whether her own history with Kashmir had any influence on her response, Bhatia replied, “Of course Kashmir touches me. It is where I come from. But I acted purely as Chairperson of the Women’s Commission.”

Yet it is precisely that blend of personal memory and political authority that has made her a lightning rod. Critics accuse her of politicising the issue but her supporters argue that she has always been standing up for national honour and women’s dignity—values deeply rooted in her own past.

I am from Those Families who were killed, murderd during 1947–1948…

From Doordarshan to the BJP

Renu Bhatia’s journey from a displaced Kashmiri girl to a key political figure is not without precedent. In 1992, she began her career as a Doordarshan anchor, and in 2000, entered politics as a BJP councillor in Faridabad, eventually becoming Deputy Mayor. She has served as Women’s Commission chair since 2022 and is known for taking bold positions on gender-related cases, including a major harassment probe in Haryana’s Jind district.

“Bhajpa ki Benazir”

Dubbed “Bhajpa ki Benazir” for her 2008 portrayal of Benazir Bhutto in a short film, Bhatia says her political role model is the late Sushma Swaraj, who affectionately gave her the nickname.

Her actions, both praised and pilloried, cannot be separated from her Kashmiri identity, forged in loss and resilience. “If something happens in Kashmir, it touches me,” she says. And for better or worse, that touch now reverberates across the country.

From `Operation Sindoor’ to PoJK: India’s Next Move Unveiled at Launch of ‘The Kashmir Chronicles’

(Kashmir Rechords Exclusive)

Union Minister Dr Jitendra Singh signals bold roadmap for Kashmir, hails book by Dr Vijay K. Sazawal as a landmark in unbiased documentation of Valley’s turbulent journey

In a moment charged with symbolism and strategic clarity, Union Minister Dr Jitendra Singh dropped a political bombshell while releasing “The Kashmir Chronicles (1986–2023)”, a seminal work by Kashmir-born U.S.-based nuclear policy expert Dr Vijay K. Sazawal. At a packed auditorium at the Constitutional Club of India, New Delhi, Dr Singh declared that retrieving Pakistan-occupied Jammu and Kashmir (PoJK) could be the next major step in India’s Kashmir policy following the success of Operation Sindoor.

“From the abrogation of Article 370 to the Pulwama response, from decisive counter-terror strikes to the successful execution of Operation Sindoor — the trajectory is clear,” said Dr. Singh. “In Viksit Bharat 2047, reclaiming PoJK is not a dream but a goal.”

Operation Sindoor: A Turning Point

Crediting `Operation Sindoor’ with shifting India’s security discourse, Dr.Singh emphasized the freedom now granted to the Indian Armed Forces. “Our forces now have the autonomy to act on the ground with professional discretion, not political constraints,” he said. The operation, which neutralized several Pakistan-sponsored terrorist hideouts, is seen as a milestone in India’s counterterrorism strategy.

Dr Singh, who represents Jammu and Kashmir’s Udhampur in Parliament and has long been regarded as a key figure in shaping policy on the region, called ``Operation Sindoor’’ a “showcase of India’s modern warfare capabilities.”

A Book that Cuts Through the Fog of Bias

Turning to the book, “The Kashmir Chronicles,” Dr. Singh lauded Dr Sazawal’s impartial lens. “Unlike many self-proclaimed ‘Kashmir experts’ who peddle their agenda, this book stands out because it is written by someone who has lived the tragedy and studied it without prejudice.”

He added that the book’s strength lies in its dual perspective — both that of an insider and of an observer who views Kashmir from a distance. “Dr Sazawal, as a Kashmiri Pandit, writes not to appease, but to illuminate — using facts and figures, not fiction and feelings.”

The Forgotten Exodus, Remembered

In an emotional reflection, Dr Singh compared the 1990 exodus of Kashmiri Pandits to the Partition of 1947 — but said it was even more harrowing. “During Partition, populations moved due to the creation of a new nation. But the Kashmiri Pandits were made homeless within their own country,” he noted. “They left with no warning, no shelter, no destination.”

Sazawal’s Book: A Chronicle of Chaos and Courage

Dr Sazawal, who spoke extensively at the launch, described his book as a decades-long deep dive into the political, social and strategic unraveling of Kashmir. The volume chronicles Kashmir’s modern history from the rise of militancy post-1986, driven by Pakistan’s jihadi proxies, to the period of policy stagnation during India’s unstable 1990s.

“The 1990s were a lost decade,” he said, subtly referring to the lack of cohesive policy due to political instability at the Centre. “There was no long-term strategy for Kashmir during that time — just short-sighted firefighting.”

The book meticulously explores governance failures, ideological confusion and external manipulation that allowed terrorism to fester. Dr Sazawal also underlined how Western disengagement after the Soviet exit from Afghanistan gave Pakistan a free hand to destabilize Kashmir.

Voices from the Security Frontlines

Brig (Retd.) Brijesh Pandey, a seasoned veteran who served in Kashmir, offered a sobering military perspective. “It was not just about guns and bombs — it was about winning hearts and minds in a radicalized landscape,” he recalled. “Kashmir was a battlefield of perception as much as it was of insurgency.”

A War of Narratives, A Chronicle of Truth

Dr Jitendra Singh sharply criticized the ecosystem of writers and activists who, in his words, “pose as intellectuals while parroting anti-India narratives for global validation.” He asserted, “I would rather be a non-intellectual than a pawn of narrative warfare.”

Looking Ahead: A Message to the World

In closing, Dr Singh signaled that India’s Kashmir story is far from over — and the world must take note. “Operation Sindoor was a message to the enemies of peace. PoJK will be the next chapter. We’re not stopping until justice is served — to our people, our territory and our history.”

The Kashmir Chronicles is not just a book. It is a mirror to the past, a map to the future and a memoir of resilience — written by one who saw the Valley burn, lived its exodus and now, dares to tell the tale.

Information War: Radio Kashmir versus Radio Jhootistan

(Kashmir Rechords Exclusive)

As tensions between India and Pakistan flare up once again—this time following the tragic killing of 26 innocent tourists in Pahalgam on April 22, and India’s subsequent launch of Operation Sindoor—a familiar battlefield has reopened, not on rugged frontiers or through skirmishes alone, but in the airwaves and digital shadows. The propaganda war has resurfaced, echoing the volatile chapters of 1947, 1965, 1971 and the Kargil conflict of 1999.

In this invisible war of words and perceptions, Pakistan has once again resorted to its time-tested tactic: disinformation. Weaponizing social media, mobilizing troll factories and resurrecting divisive narratives, the Pakistani deep state has shown how little it has evolved. The ghosts of Radio Jhootistan—a nickname earned during earlier wars for its habitual lying—are back. But so is the memory of how India countered that darkness with one of its most underappreciated strategic assets: Radio Kashmir, now rechristened as All India Radio, Srinagar/Jammu.

This media stronghold and its unsung role in defending India’s sovereignty through voice and truth, finds its finest documentation in “Radio Kashmir in Times of Peace and War”, a deeply researched and timely book by seasoned author, Dr. Rajesh Bhat. Released in November 2018 by Dr. Jitendra Singh, Minister in the PMO, the book reads not only as a chronicle of a radio station’s two wings—Srinagar and Jammu, but as a battlefield journal from the information frontlines.

How Propaganda Became Pakistan’s Old Weapon

The book lays bare Pakistan’s systematic use of underground radio stations—like the infamous Radio Trarkhal—to poison minds across the border and within Kashmir. These stations, funded and directed by Rawalpindi’s infamous propaganda cells, worked day and night to spread anti-India narratives, rouse communal passions and distort reality. They gained traction especially in border districts and conflict-hit zones, where trust in mainstream narratives was often fragile.

But for every lie that crossed the LoC, there stood Radio Kashmir, broadcasting calm amid chaos, facts against fiction. Whether during the tribal raids of 1947, the Indo-Pak wars, or even the holy relic crisis and the upheaval of 1990, Radio Kashmir was not just relaying news—it was building national morale.

The ‘Jawabi Hamla’: India’s Response Through Radio

Dr. Bhat’s book vividly recounts how India responded with what he terms the “Jawabi Hamla”—a strategic counter-narrative operation. Radio Kashmir didn’t mirror Pakistan’s venom but offered credible, timely and empathetic content. Anchored in Kashmiri, Urdu, Dogri, Gojri and other  languages and dialects, culture, music and poetry, it became a voice the people trusted.

Even during curfews, shutdowns and insurgency, Radio Kashmir didn’t fall silent. It adapted. It resisted. At times, its reporters became frontline soldiers of truth, risking their lives to report stories that needed telling.

The station’s evolution—documented thoroughly in the book—mirrors Kashmir’s political journey. Beginning as a humble transmitter and a makeshift studio in 1947, it transformed into a guardian of the erstwhile State’s identity, dignity and national integration. The Book has rare anecdotes, archival interviews and photographs that bring to life not only the station’s political importance but also its emotional and cultural connect with region’s people.

The chapters on psychological operations (PsyOps), the cultural broadcasts that reached every home and the moral dilemmas of information handling during crises offer invaluable lessons for today’s media strategists.

Why This Book Matters Today

In an age where hybrid warfare and deepfake propaganda have replaced bullets in many battlespaces, the legacy of Radio Kashmir is more relevant than ever. The book offers insights into:

  • Building credible counter-propaganda without resorting to hate.
  • Creating culturally grounded narratives that resonate with local populations.
  • Balancing military messaging with civilian empathy.

With India facing yet another surge of hostility from across the border and social media platforms flooded with misleading content, Radio Kashmir in Times of Peace and War is a timely reminder that truth, when delivered with clarity and conviction, is the most powerful weapon of all.

As New Delhi rethinks its communication doctrine in Kashmir and beyond, perhaps it’s time to revisit the voices that once defended India—not with guns, but with microphones.

To read more about this deeply researched account—with documentary evidence, rare photographs and stories from the heart of Kashmir’s most turbulent decades—get your copy by contacting:
📧
support@kashmir-rechords.com
📧 kashmirrechords@gmail.com

Mock Drills and Real Lessons: A Throwback to Wartime Readiness

(Kashmir Rechords Report)

In the wake of the recent Pahalgam terror attack, India has launched “Operation Sindoor”—a robust counter-offensive aimed at avenging the blood spilled in Kashmir. Alongside this strategic military response, the government has announced nationwide civil defence mock drills to bolster emergency preparedness and educate citizens on how to respond to potential future threats.

But for the seasoned residents of India’s border belts, especially in Jammu and Kashmir and Punjab, this initiative feels more like a revival than a novelty.

Echoes from the Past

For those who have lived through past conflicts, the sight of Civil Defence volunteers springing into action evokes vivid memories. In times of war or cross-border provocations, these volunteers were often the first line of civilian readiness, guiding people on dos and don’ts during air raids or any hostile incident.

Old-timers fondly recall how newspapers of yesteryear would brim with government-issued advisories—alerts, instructions, and warnings, not just on physical safety but also on psychological warfare waged by enemy broadcasters.

‘Radio Jhootistan’: The Propaganda War That Never Stopped

During the 1971 Indo-Pak war, Radio Pakistan earned the infamous nickname “Radio Jhootistan” for its relentless misinformation campaigns. Civil Defence efforts weren’t just about blackout drills and sirens—they were also about building mental resilience against enemy propaganda.

Kashmir Rechords is proud to reproduce two rare and evocative newspaper clippings from December 1971, showing how people were taught to resist false narratives and stay alert amid chaos. One advised citizens on what to do during air raids; the other warned them to dismiss lies spread by Pakistan’s radio propaganda machine.

From Radios to Reels: The New Face of Misinformation

While Civil Defence still adheres to its time-tested Standard Operating Procedures (SOPs), the landscape of misinformation has drastically evolved. The once-centralized disinformation channels like Radio Pakistan have now been replaced—or rather, amplified—by the unregulated chaos of social media, where malicious actors across and within the border exploit AI tools and modern tech to spread disinformation at scale.

Despite strong interventions by the Government of India, including the identification and blocking of rogue handles and propaganda channels, the flow of misinformation continues to challenge national security and public trust.

The Wolf Still Howls: A Battle of Vigilance

As the saying goes, “a wolf may lose its teeth but not its nature.” Though the medium has changed, the motive remains the same. Radio Jhootistan might now be silent to many ears, but its spirit lives on in deceptive tweets, AI-generated deepfakes, and viral hate content.

Civil Defence, once a relic of wartime drills, is again stepping into the limelight—not just to train people in physical preparedness, but to arm the public with awareness in the age of digital deception.

Aziz Bhai: The Voice That Roared Across Borders

(Kashmir Rechords Exclusive)

Remembering Manohar Prothi, Kashmir’s legendary broadcaster who fought propaganda with his voice

At a time when India-Pakistan relations have plunged to a new low—following the brutal massacre of tourists at Pahalgam on April 22—and when social media is flooded with digital warfare led by influencers and content creators, one can’t help but recall a figure from a different era.

A figure who, long before the age of Twitter battles and viral hashtags, fought misinformation not with keystrokes but with a commanding voice that reverberated across mountains and borders.

That man was Manohar Prothi (1935–2017), better known as “Aziz Bhai” of Waadi Ki Awaaz. He wasn’t just a broadcaster; he was Kashmir’s very own “tweeter of yesteryears,” whose voice struck like a thunderclap against every wave of propaganda emanating from across the border.

Manohar Prothi — The Sentinel with a Microphone. (Pic Credits: Rajesh Prothi)

It’s been so many years since he left us, yet his memory refuses to fade. His voice still rings in the ears of those who once tuned in religiously, especially in these turbulent times when psychological warfare has taken newer forms.

“Aziz Bhai”—a name etched into every Kashmiri household on both sides of the divide—was more than a radio host. He was the soul of a region, a trusted companion at 4 PM every day, when his programme for the security forces became a daily ritual in homes, camps, and bunkers alike.

Manohar Prothi — In the company of another legendary broadcaster, Uma Khosa

But beyond the airwaves, Manohar Prothi was an artist, a cultural icon. His portrayal of Yousuf Chak in the legendary play on Habba Khatun, and his performances in theatrical masterpieces like Khazan Ke Phool, Kabhi Nahin and Lala Rukh, cemented his status as a pillar of Kashmir’s artistic heritage.

A master broadcaster, Prothi’s popularity could be measured by the flood of letters Radio Kashmir received—some even adorned with dried flowers sent by listeners from across the border. Generations imitated his style; none could match his range or magnetic modulation.

Starting his broadcasting journey as a child, Prothi’s voice became the soundtrack of Kashmir’s mornings, afternoons, and turbulent nights. Even after migrating to Jammu in 1990, he remained a beloved figure, his voice a familiar comfort on Radio Kashmir Jammu.

For over four decades, he helmed The Forces Programme, a daily staple that bridged soldiers and civilians. Yet, it was his role as “Bhai Jaan” in the Children’s Programme and ultimately as “Aziz Bhai” in Waadi Ki Awaaz that turned him into a legend—a voice heard from Srinagar to Skardu, from Baramulla to Muzaffarabad.

“He Had Admirers Everywhere”

Fayyaz Sheharyar, former Director General of All India Radio, once remarked:

“Aziz Bhai had no enemies, perhaps no friends either, but admirers—he had them everywhere. He was wedded to broadcasting, living by the highest professional ethics, even at the cost of his family’s interests.”

Such was his dedication: unwavering, uncompromising, unforgettable.

No friends, no foes–only with his admirer, Farooq Abdullah

A Voice That Fought a Psychological War

In an era when microphones were mightier than missiles, “Waadi Ki Awaaz” wasn’t just a radio show; it was a psychological weapon. Manohar Prothi’s stirring broadcasts countered hostile narratives, inspiring hope, and bolstering morale not just in Kashmir but deep into Pakistan-occupied Kashmir.

His son, Rajesh Prothi, fondly recalls his father’s command over Urdu—a language he never formally studied but mastered like a poet. That fluency, combined with his resonant delivery, made every broadcast a blend of artistry and activism.

Today, as India grapples with newer, faster forms of propaganda in the digital age, one wishes for a voice like Manohar Prothi’s—steady, powerful, persuasive.

We need voices—not just loud, but wise; not just heard, but felt. We need the spirit of “Aziz Bhai,” whose every word was a tweet before Twitter, every sentence a counter to misinformation. In today’s language, he went viral every single day. Without WiFi. Without reels. Just pure voice power. He didn’t need trending hashtags to make an impact. He didn’t chase followers—followers came to him.

While mediums have changed, the battle of narratives remains the same. In an era of disinformation, troll farms, and cyber manipulation, we need voices like Manohar Prothi’s—calm, credible, courageous.

From Prankote to Pahalgam: A Chilling Chronicle of Faith-Driven Massacres in J&K!

0
(Kashmir Rechords Exclusive)

The picturesque valleys of Pahalgam echoed with screams in 2025 April—not from the delight of tourists but from the horror of gunfire. In a chilling ambush, unarmed Hindu tourists were targeted, shot and killed in cold blood. India mourned. Headlines flashed. But for those who have tracked Kashmir’s tortured history, the massacre brought not shock—but déjà vu. Because this was not the first time!

Over the last more than three decades, Jammu and Kashmir has witnessed a series of calculated, faith-driven massacres. Innocents—teachers, pilgrims, wedding guests, labourers—have been singled out, segregated and slaughtered. Not because of what they did. But because of what they believed.

A Pattern Written in Blood

The modus operandi has barely changed. Whether in 1990s or 2001, whether in the Valley or the hills of Jammu, the message has remained: “Convert, flee, or die.”

Go back to Wandhama, January 25, 1998—23 Kashmiri Pandits, including women and children, were lined up and shot. The gunmen had impersonated soldiers, earning trust before turning their weapons on the faithful. Despite desperate pleas for mercy, not one soul was spared.

Just three months later, on April 17, another carnage unfolded—this time in the quiet village of Prankote in Mahore area. Here, the cruelty was medieval. Hindus were told to convert to Islam or face death. When they refused, 29 villagers, including women and toddlers, were hacked to death with axes and sickles. Their homes were set on fire.

Two months on, June 19, the horror returned—Chapnari village, Doda. Twenty-five Hindu men were separated from Muslims and gunned down near a stream. No warning. No mercy.

These weren’t mere outbreaks of violence—they were communal pogroms designed to alter the demographic soul of the region.

The Gool incident of June 15, 1997 reinforced this pattern. Three Kashmiri Pandit teachers, including the Principal traveling on a local bus, were pulled aside. Muslims were spared. The Pandits were shot dead.

Massacres as Message Boards

These weren’t isolated acts; they were deliberate spectacles. To send a message. To sow fear. To incite communal backlash across India.

Consider August 1, 2000—Amarnath pilgrims were returning from darshan when terrorists struck near Pahalgam. Thirty people, including 18 pilgrims, porters and CRPF personnel, were killed in one of the bloodiest attacks on religious pilgrims. Over 60 were injured. The target? Faith. The intention? To disrupt one of Hinduism’s holiest pilgrimages.

Or take the Chattisinghpora Massacre, March 2000—when 35 Sikh men were executed on the eve of President Clinton’s visit. Though Sikhs were the victims this time, the purpose was identical: religious minorities were marked for elimination.

And then came Nadimarg, March 24, 2003—when Terrorists   came dressed as security forces. The families were cornered and executed.

In Rajouri, 2002, 35 wedding guests—Hindus—were gunned down in a marriage celebration. Once again, identity was the only crime.

In Doda, the pattern lasted years. On April 30, 1996, 17 Hindus were dragged from their homes in Kishtwar and murdered. On August 20, 2001, 15 more were killed in Shrawan village. These weren’t impulsive attacks. They were systematic efforts to empty Jammu’s hills of its Hindu presence.

Terror has since mutated. While large-scale massacres have reduced, targeted killings have become the new weapon.

In 2021, Deepak Chand, a Hindu teacher, and Supinder Kaur, a Sikh principal, were shot inside a Srinagar school—during working hours.

Hindu labourers from Bihar and Uttar Pradesh have been picked off in Pulwama, Kulgam and Shopian—often while asleep or during work. Even bank managers, hawkers and migrant employees have been assassinated after being identified by their names or IDs.

And Now, Pahalgam—Again !

The April 2025 Pahalgam massacre of Hindu tourists is only the latest entry in this long catalogue of communal killings. It mimics the past with brutal clarity—outsiders, visiting the Valley, targeted only because of their faith.

It’s not the first time Hindus– be those tourists or pilgrims or labourers have been killed. And it may perhaps not be the last if the pattern is not understood for what it is: a campaign of segregation, elimination and fear.

The tragedy is not just the deaths. It’s that Indians often forget. That each new killing is treated as an aberration, not part of a chilling continuum.

This write-up by Kashmir Rechords is not just an account—it’s a reminder—- That massacres have a memory— That terrorism in Jammu and Kashmir has often been religiously selective, and that Hindus— aborigines, pilgrims, baratis, teachers, or tourists—have repeatedly borne the brunt.

The list of atrocities mentioned here is definitely incomplete, but the message behind them has always been loud and clear. And it’s time we stopped pretending otherwise.

A Kashmiri Pandit Umpire Behind the Wickets!

(Kashmir Rechords Exclusive)

Born in Srinagar’s Habba Kadal and trained in law, Padam Shri Swaroop Kishan Reu quietly etched his name into cricketing history as India’s only Kashmiri Pandit Test umpire—at a time when opportunities were scarce and recognition even scarcer.

In a world where cricket often grabs headlines for its stadium spectacles and star players, few pause to remember the men in white who silently control the game from behind the stumps. Fewer still know that one of them hailed from the lanes of Habba Kadal in Srinagar. His name was Swaroop Kishan Reu—the first and only Kashmiri umpire to officiate in international Test and One-Day cricket for India.

In today’s billion-dollar cricketing world—where IPL, T20s and World Cups fuel frenzy, fireworks and financial muscle—it’s easy to forget the quieter era of the game, when it was still a gentleman’s sport. Swaroop Kishan belonged to that era. He was a man of calm authority, keen observation and impeccable decision-making, officiating at a time when the game was transitioning from decorum to cutthroat competition.

A Kashmiri with a Cricketing Soul

Born in 1930 in Habba Kadal, a heritage-rich locality in the heart of Srinagar, Swaroop Kishan came from a lineage steeped in Kashmiri tradition. Though he trained in law and later joined the Accountant General’s Office, his heart beat for cricket.

According to renowned chronicler Baikunth Nath Sharga, who documented the lives of illustrious Kashmiri Pandits in his book “Kashmiri Panditon ke Anmol Rattan,” Swaroop Kishan had an “irresistible passion” for the game. He played for Delhi University as a batsman and wicketkeeper, combining legal precision with athletic flair.

He married Sunita Reu in 1965, and while he may have followed the secure path of government service, cricket remained his lifelong companion.

Swaroop Kishan & Sunita ( Married in 1965). Pic Courtesy: KP Network(ikashmir.net)

From Law Books to Scorebooks

Swaroop’s big break came in December 1978, when he made his international umpiring debut in a Test match between India and the West Indies in Bangalore—a match that was eventually abandoned due to riots. But he would go on to officiate several Tests and ODIs in the years to come, including high-pressure matches featuring legends like Sunil Gavaskar, Kapil Dev, and the Amarnath brothers.

In 1979, during a Test in Chennai, a bizarre event etched itself into cricket folklore: a swarm of bees descended on the field, sending players and umpires—Swaroop Kishan included—flat on the ground to avoid being stung. It was an unforgettable moment, one that spoke to the unpredictability of the game and the presence of mind needed to officiate it.

Despite his portly frame, Swaroop Kishan was widely respected for his technical command, fairness and sharp judgment. His presence was reassuring during an era when India was just beginning to assert itself in world cricket—not just through its players, but also through its umpires, infrastructure and growing cricket culture.

Before the mike: Swaroop Kishan discussing India-Pak Series alongwith Dr Narotam Puri and Chetan Chauhan.

Not Just an Umpire, A Voice of the Game

Off the field, Swaroop Kishan found joy in the studios of All India Radio and Doordarshan. While today’s cricket commentators sit in plush digital studios with cutting-edge analytics, Swaroop Kishan  belonged to a generation that brought the game alive with passion and presence. He often shared the mic with stalwarts like Dr. Narottam Puri, Chetan Chauhan and Susheel Jain, helping millions of listeners fall in love with cricket.

A Kashmiri Among Giants

In 1986, President Giani Zail Singh conferred the Padma Shri on Swaroop Kishan in recognition of his outstanding contribution to cricket—a moment of national pride not just for him, but for an entire community that has historically punched above its weight despite its minuscule numbers.

Pic Courtesy: KP Network(ikashmir.net)

While Jammu & Kashmir has since produced talented players who’ve competed in Ranji Trophy, T20s and even the IPL, no other umpire from the region has made it to cricket’s highest stage like Swaroop Kishan did.

Today, cricket may be louder, faster and richer, but it is built on the shoulders of men like Swaroop Kishan Reu—who gave the game its credibility, dignity and direction. His life is a reminder that greatness doesn’t always come with applause—it often comes with quiet excellence.

Swroop Kishan stood stood behind the wickets, but he led from the front.