I am forced to look back at Kashmir of 1990, and wonder what all it has done to itself now when the first quarter of the 21st century is about to usher in. Let me clear at the outset that I am not a Kashmiri, but always considered and believed myself as an adopted son of the Vale that cradled my childhood in south Kashmir’s town of Anantnag.

That was the time when springs overflowed, Jhelum zigzagged in its natural course, but often flooded the town from Lal Chowk to Khannabal and beyond. Sheikh Abdullah was behind bars but his calls echoed all across. There was unequal contest between slogans calling for “Plebiscite” and “Azad Hindustan Zindabad”. It was perplexing. I used to wonder, why should it happen when the country is fully free and sovereign. It was a narrative that India was a free country where everyone was equal. It also meant that Plebiscite was an illusion, and ultimately it has proven correct.

It may not fit into the imagination of many of this age that the news was broadcast through a loudspeaker fitted at Lal Chowk, Mattan Chowk and few other crossings in the town. We learnt about the death of President Zakir Hussain from that loudspeaker which served as an amplifier to Radio Kashmir, Srinagar, broadcasts. Perhaps this was to pierce each and every home in the vicinity, and drown the noises of dissent.

The town represented crossroads at which Kashmir was at that time.

There was an unquenchable quest for identity. Kashmiri Muslims and Hindus had serious differences over the political development. The........

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