Early Times Report
Jammu, Jan 30: Being married to a militant leader was quite like being the wife of Vito Corleone in her start-up days.
Young girls in the neighbourhood would take care to be seen around Shayista Naseem only, in a burqa. The more awed would say prayers to keep on the right side of the wife of a militant leader.
The militant (requested anonymity) and Shayista set up home in Srinagar after marrying in 2000, the 24-year-old woman than, a willing bride to a militant who was the so-called commander of the Hizb-ul Mujahideen, Kashmir's top rebel group.
There was danger in that life, but there was also veneration for the queen of the mohalla. Shayista was also as pretty as they come in these verdant mountains.
Four years after their marriage, in 2004 the militant got, killed in an encounter with the security forces. Shayista was second time pregnant with her son at the time.
Life was as bright as light when Shayista, when still in school, was betrothed to the militant. When she was grown enough to fathom the dangers of being the wife of a militant, even then she did not change her mind. Instead she was thrilled to link her life with that of 'Mujahid'
Her parents, too, blessed the wedding. They all knew that the life of a militant's wife is like 'patte pe pani (dew on a leaf)', as Shayista herself said on phone. Still, she said: 'It was not a mistake.'
That drop of displaced dew has rolled with Shayista, Ikra and Chotu, to stop at Doda town overlooking the Chenab. Shayista's father works on his farm of 5,500 square yards on the edge of the town and feeds the expanded family.
"I have to take care of my children. I want to make the eldest daughter (Ikra) a doctor," she said.
Unlike Shayista's, the stream of Shakeela Akhtar's life was forcibly diverted. She was married off to the commander of Al-Jehad, another militant group, under duress in the presence of two or three other rebels in a mosque. Her parents were arm-twisted into consenting to the wedding.
Like Shayista, Shakeela is a widow today with two daughters to raise. The daughters were born in 2003 and 2005. Like Shayista, she's still in her thirties, but young enough to marry again.
For the husband's family, there are too many daughters-in-law widowed by their son to support. So Shakeela had to knock on the door of her parents who are daily wage labourers at Thathri village, 15 km north of Doda town.
Some have learnt lessons from Shakeela and others like her. Mumtaz Begum's brother fled his village with his family once he found out militants wanted to marry his two daughters. "It is better to live in penury than in luxury with tension all the time," she said.
Luxury is a strange word to use to describe life with a militant.
Like her brother, many have fled from their villages and marrying their daughters off in towns, willing even to make labourers and other daily wagers their sons-in-law.
"After all, there is some certainty in life. It would not be a life on the run. Nor would it be riddled with the anxiety of the news of death coming any moment," Mumtaz said. |
