This was the time when the first state elections, following the violent situation in the Valley, were held in 1996.

The time when Farooq Abdullah had to pay a fine for illegal parking while visiting me at the BBC London after he was offered by the Government of India a ‘sky is the limit’ in return for his comeback in elections. It was the time when majority in Kashmir believed that India and Pakistan had learnt a lesson from their betrayals in the past and wanted to settle the Kashmir issue for peace. ‘The bloodshed had to stop’, perhaps everybody prayed for it.

Politicians, people and separatists – all thought that the snow had melted.

The streams were gushing.

The Chinar leaves had turned green.

The ‘sky is the limit’ mantra enticed us all, insiders and outsiders.

Was it a sense of responsibility or the figment of my imagination that led me to leave BBC London and return to the Kashmir Valley after covering the global agenda from a distance of seven thousand miles?

Honestly, I still have no answer.

My children were furious that I had created an obstacle in their education for no reason, interrupting their session and separating them from their friends. I did not know whether they would get admission in Kashmir or their year would be wasted. Many friends at the BBC advised me to reconsider my decision to move to Kashmir. They rather thought that I should settle permanently in London, as there was ample space at the BBC where I could do my work. I disagreed.

Despite my indecision, I was resolute in making the right choice for me and my family. The decision to leave the BBC and return to Radio Kashmir was a leap of faith, one I was determined to take.

My father, Baba, was my troubleshooter, but he was also in a dilemma about whether I should return or stay in London. For the first time in my life, I was drowning when I should have been celebrating the moment of gaining freedom to decide.

Baba had been the decision-maker for my family; even the names of my children were his prerogative. But this time, he backed out. I was clouded by whispers about what I would do if the decision to return proved a failure.

Baba’s stare scared me as if to say that more than one crore people live in the state; aren’t the conditions bad for them?

I returned with bag and baggage.

First, I got my children back to school, and then I immersed myself in the world of broadcast journalism, which was limited and bordered. The early days were challenging, with limited resources and a smaller platform compared to the BBC. However, I was unwavering in my commitment to bring quality programming to the people of Kashmir.

Strangely, there was neither the enthusiasm nor the excitement that had made the days at the BBC exciting.

The world of Radio Kashmir was much smaller compared to the BBC. Whether it was the management, infrastructure, or the means to connect with the world, Radio Kashmir was lacking in many aspects. This was a stark contrast to the BBC, where I had access to state-of-the-art equipment and a global platform. In reality, the sky was the limit there.

I preferred to swim in a small river instead of a vast ocean, but this river of Radio Kashmir had no swimming equipment in it that I had become accustomed to at BBC London.

During the few years I spent at the BBC, I travelled to South Asia, the Middle East, and several European countries, learning the secrets of world politics and becoming familiar with the codes of journalism. Then, what should I do at Radio Kashmir, where the recording machines are often in poor condition? The restrictions on the content were a sword on my head.

The journalist in me needed to be consoled, which does not make me regret my decision to return. My guilt would soon consume me.

Nevertheless, I resumed my position as an officer in the Radio and started supervising a few routine programs.

Soon, I realised the journalist in me was dying.

The resettlement had become difficult, more due to the doubts that started to arise about my decision to leave the ‘green pastures.’

Amid such a quagmire, one fine morning, news came that the new director, Ashraf Sahil, had arrived at the station, and he was immediately calling a meeting of the program officers. His arrival brought a sense of anticipation and hope for a better future for Radio Kashmir.

About four or five of us colleagues were sunbathing in the courtyard of the radio station........

© Greater Kashmir