Altaf Qadri Kashmir The Bleeding Paradise

Being an insider, Altaf Qadri’s photographs of the Kashmir conflict are hard hitting, evocative and unapologetic. Yet they are personal, flawed and have an air of intimacy to them. It is this alienated sense of intimacy that makes his photographs transcend the violence depicted in them, into a space where empathy resides. Through his documentation, Altaf seeks to create a channel for an open and fair dialogue that lies beyond accusations and finger pointing. From his photographs, it is clear that violence can only ever beget violence; hate can only ever beget hate. It does not matter which side you are on, his photographs will move you enough to reflect, question the mindless violence at various levels, especially the infiltration from other side of Kashmir and the support of Pakistan’s ISI for the conflict to go on and for inflicting more deaths to isolate the local people who have populated the valley since 1989.

- Chandan Gomes

Now, consider a photograph shot in Kashmir—a wounded soldier with a severely bleeding right leg being dragged to safety by two civilians. For some, the photograph will be a portrait of despair, while for others, it will represent hope. Now, think of two photographs, adjacent to each other, say, in a book—(L) two civilians held at gunpoint, (R) marriage procession of a young Kashmiri bride. Again, you find yourself traversing the inch that separates Brecht from Neruda. Altaf Qadri’s photographs of his homeland, Kashmir, are all about this inch.

Altaf Qadri is a photojournalist based out of Delhi, who is currently working with Associate Press. Born and brought up in Kashmir, he has been photographing the conflict in the valley since 2004. Altaf is a two time World Press Photo winner and has also photographed the Mumbai terror attacks, the earthquake in Nepal and the conflict in Libya and Afghanistan.

A photograph that continues to linger in my mind is that of a dead policeman, surrounded by dead civilians. In life, they were perhaps pitted against each other, but in death, they are on the same side—lifeless, still, and victims of hatred—will the pain of their respective families be different from each other? How does one decide whose life is more precious, and whose less? Even a gruesome photograph such as this succeeds in evoking empathy. And this is what makes Altaf’s selfless documentation of the valley such an important and relevant body of work. Another photograph that I find remarkable is that of a woman walking over corpses, trying to identify her relative while a huge crowd looks on. Her helplessness is visible and you wonder if she will ever be able to identify her relative. How old was this relative? Man or woman; boy or girl? How many more loved ones has she lost since this photograph was made?