‘Muskaan’ in Kashmir

Maj Gen Raj Mehta (Retd)

THE call from the Army HQ at the end of December in 2004 informed me that my time in Kashmir was up. President APJ Abdul Kalam had earlier in the month inaugurated the Ibadat-e-Shahadat Museum in Srinagar Cantonment, my last major responsibility as GOC of an LC Division involved in hyperactive soldiering and in winning hearts and minds in the hinterland.

The museum’s name, the soft-spoken, erudite President told me in his gentle, cultured voice while I was giving him a tour, was an ode to deathless bravery and sacrifices of the jawan and awaam. “Your Corps Commander, Gen Nirbhay Sharma, tells me he is promoting his Jawan Aur Awaam, Aman Hai Muqaam ethic through Ibadat-e-Shahadat. I agree. The museum takes all along… jawan, awaam, culture, historicity, Sufi traditions, Kashmiriyat… a model for Naya Kashmir; for the proposed National War Museum.”

“Sir, I’ve been telephonically asked to confirm reversion to Military Operations Directorate,” I informed the GOC. “Nonsense,” said Nirbhay cheerily. “You’re my Chief of Staff (COS), OK?” I smiled. Sixteen hectic months in command had whetted my love for Kashmir. A COS is Number 2 in Corps HQ, attending operational briefings but mandated to attend to administration, infrastructure, coordination, protocol, leaving operations to the GOC.

Nirbhay wanted an all-encompassing orphanage, ‘Muskaan’, to come up for 80 Kashmiri children, aged 5-17, on military land at Batmaloo, in the guts of troubled Srinagar, where we had supply assets. “Go for it, June inauguration, Raj,” he said, smiling wryly. I started off, taking the orphanage as fair tasking, along with creating a state-of-the-art shooting range to be named after Olympics silver medallist Rajyavardhan Rathore, a happening gym for officers, health clubs for Other Ranks, a new Officers Mess, and a holiday home in the Zabarwan hills overlooking Badami Bagh. I had dedicated officers across gender and we worked with passion, including through snow tsunami of February-March 2005. Under the stewardship of Ms Nirbhay Sharma with young Lt Shaifali, a co-located ASC lady officer as OIC, we took over vacant, multi-storeyed military accommodation, bringing it into mint condition using our Sappers. Playgrounds, sand pits, lights, safety arrangements, European class rooms, tiered bunks, computer work stations, colourful rooms, smart kitchens cooking delightful Kashmiri wazwan under women cooks, affectionate minders, some indigent widows… everything came up to provide a veritable jannat and sukoon (happiness) for children inside troubled Kashmir.

The orphans were selected without gender bias. By May-end, our precious human capital had settled down with cuddle-worthy muskaans and infectious positivity for a reason: they had love, free schooling, accommodation, clothing, food, entertainment, sports, outings, interactive sessions, family time, religious freedom and expert counselling. All we needed was a mum-like role model to ignite their minds before the June 9, 2005 inauguration. Miss Universe 1994 and upcoming, feisty IAF brat and wannabe actor, the beautiful Sushmita Sen provided it. Returning from the airport VIP lounge seeing off a VVIP, I saw her sashay in. Providence had walked in.

In uniform, I introduced myself, sought the lady's forgiveness for intruding, eliciting a smiling pardon. Requested to act as fairy godmother for orphans on a midsummer afternoon, Sushmita showed how great a mum she must be for her own adopted little girl. "General," she said in her wonderfully modulated voice, "I owe it to God's children, to my air-warrior dad, to all of you far from your homes, winning hearts and minds amidst unspeakable terror. There will be no charges other than 'muskaan'!" Media reports record the stunning impact this braveheart lady had on kids, who were euphoric on that magical midsummer fairytale afternoon. She had connected. She had brought muskaan to Kashmir.